The Mussar of Apple TV’s Severance
When I was ten, I saw my teacher selecting lettuce in the produce aisle at the grocery store. It was the first time I remember seeing a teacher outside of school.
I asked myself, was she just my teacher? Or someone’s wife or mom? Or a shopper in a market? Or all of these things.
Until that moment, I guess, like any kid, I put people into boxes and saw them only for their utility or their relation to me. Today, I still struggle with the idea that not only am I made of many parts and experiences, but so is everyone else.
That’s what makes the hit show Severance such an impactful watch.
Many identify with the main character, Mark. In his grief from losing his wife in a car accident, he agrees to be “severed” such that he becomes an entirely different person each day when the elevator doors open to his office. His “innie” takes over and gives his “outie” psyche a respite during work.
When I watch it, the show forces me to confront what it means to be human and a peer among my fellow humans.
I, and likely we, wrestle with whether the people we meet are just one thing—the person we engage with—or an entire diverse universe in and of themselves. Instead of just being the corporeal reality we see, we can look at others as the sum of their experiences we have no way of knowing about.
And here I thought my butcher was just my butcher!
Severance challenges us to see the other as a complete human, right in front of us, even more than just the sum of their numerous parts.
Mussar, a Jewish approach to self-reflection and behavior, gives us a clue. Mussar is a practice that focuses on personal transformation and ethical living by cultivating inner virtues, such as humility and gratitude, to overcome inner barriers and reveal one’s divine essence. We do the work, we pay attention, and we grow.
In “Everyday Holiness: The Jewish Spiritual Path of Mussar,” Alan Morinis wrote the following, which I found helpful in thinking about the “other.”
“What appears before us when we look at another [with eyes of judgment] are that person’s accumulated deeds and habits as they stand right now, which we judge from our own vantage point.”
He added, “When we lower or transcend the boundaries of self, however, and draw closer so that we can feel within us the truth of that other person’s experience, and so see with eyes of compassion, we still ought to see that person as they are now, but something else will be added to that picture. We will also see more deeply to perceive the untainted soul that is the kernel of that being – the image of the divine that is reflected in ourselves as well.”
He emphasized the importance of seeing the whole person, not just their actions. We can perceive their current state and deeper spiritual essence when we approach others with compassion instead of judgment. This holistic view helps us connect with others more profoundly, understanding their surface and inner qualities.
Severance also asks if we can live in the nitty-gritty, complex real world while maintaining a human soul, a unique expression of the divine.
The innie and the outie in the Severance story comprise the whole character—the same as us. The work is to bring these two parts together. And if we can do it for ourselves, we can start to engage the other at their most human and spiritual core.
After all, the butcher down the street has dreams, challenges, and aspirations. Doesn’t he, and all of us, deserve to be seen that way?
The temptation to keep barriers high between us and others is genuine. If I’m paying attention, I often notice how hard I work to imagine that others do NOT have a life outside the “innie” role in which I engage them, whether a butcher, my physiotherapist, a coworker, a friend, or a rabbi.
“Mussar for Moderns* by Rabbi Elyakim Krumbein explores the Jewish ethical tradition of Mussar, emphasizing character development and spiritual growth. The author teaches us, especially as moderns, to view others through humility, compassion, and interconnectedness. We belong to each other and can/must challenge our tendencies toward self-centeredness. Others are just as complex as we think we are.
I learned from Krumbein that focusing on virtues like love, justice, and solidarity encourages us to cultivate relationships that enhance relationships and promote communal well-being. We “win” when we see others as partners in moral and spiritual refinement and creating a shared humanity.
Krumbein also cites a 1994 essay by Dr. Daniel Shalit, “Shopping Mall Man.” Shalit shared this insight in the essay, which could have inspired Severance.
“The mall presents before our very eyes, essentially and tangibly, the entire culture of our times. First of all, it is entirely detached from nature – separated from the ground by thousands of square meters of cement, basements, shelters and parking lots.
Secondly, it is detached from Heaven as well – covered by a gigantic plastic dome. And between the cement and the plastic – a whole man-made world. Everything – sidewalks, waterfalls and ponds, plants and trees, all that the senses absorb – colors, sounds, smells, humidity, temperature, and of course the walkways, the stairs, the angles – all planned, controlled and computerized to the last detail. And all so beautiful, so efficient, so brilliant: the victory of Man…
One might think that Man would strive to get out, to connect up with what is beyond the mall – i.e. the transcendent. But no: the direction is, for the time being, not to go out, but to bring INSIDE everything that is OUTSIDE. Within this so-human creation, the mall, Man builds his own nature and his own super-nature, an Earth and a Heaven.”
Shalit identifies the temptation to look and build inward. He highlights that the demands of daily life are just that—demands. Who would want more of those? And it’s tempting to create and live entirely within the artifice.
Severance, the television show, challenges the conceit that what goes on outside doesn’t impact what’s inside, and vice versa. But in the explosive season 2 finale, we watch each character realize that they are but one person and that comes with making difficult decisions about personal priorities.
I don’t know whether Ben Stiller, the producer of Severance, learned Mussar. However, what has stayed with me since watching the season finale is that being human means being entirely human, fully integrated among all our parts and experiences. It also demands seeing others the same way.
