So, here’s the deal: Lumon is the corporate entity at the center of Severance, a show that messes with your head in all the best ways. Picture this: a company that’s both terrifying and fascinating, and it somehow manages to make working in an office feel like living inside a corporate nightmare. Right out of the gate, Severance introduces us to Lumon, a company that, at first, seems a little too tidy, a little too controlled. But oh, as the show rolls on, the layers peel back and we realize this place is something else entirely.
I’ll be honest—when I first watched the show, I had no clue what Lumon even did. I was waiting for some big corporate reveal about software, algorithms, or tech gadgets. But nope. As the story unfolds, it’s less about what the company produces and more about what they take from people—namely, their memories. And let me tell you, that memory-bending twist? It’s a real kicker. The way Lumon operates, it’s almost like an office job gone horror movie. Like, “Oh hey, I’m working on my Excel sheet… but wait, why am I wearing a weird uniform and why can’t I remember what I did yesterday?”
Anyway, here’s the kicker: the employees at Lumon aren’t just working for a paycheck—they’re working under a system so messed up that it seems like they’re trapped in a corporate version of Groundhog Day… except with amnesia.
The Company That Does… What Exactly?
Okay, so what does Lumon actually do? Well, good question. The show never really lays it out in plain terms, and I’m starting to think that’s the point. The company’s main gig seems to be this bizarre “severance procedure” where employees get their memories split in two: one set of memories for when they’re at work (the “innie”), and another for when they’re outside (the “outie”). They basically become two different people. That’s where the weirdness kicks in.
The whole thing sounds like a corporate wellness program gone horribly wrong. At first, Lumon markets itself as a company helping employees separate their work and personal lives, creating the perfect balance. You know, “No more work stress after hours!” But… it’s more like “Let’s wipe out your ability to have any meaningful personal connection at all, and turn you into a mindless worker bee instead.”
There’s something about that sterile, haunting office space—like they took one look at a 1980s office building and said, “Let’s make it worse.” It’s like The Office meets Black Mirror, but with zero fun. Seriously, if I were ever to walk into that place, I’d probably need therapy just from the lighting.
Anyway, I digress. What I’m getting at is this: Lumon doesn’t just produce things—they produce a system of control that forces people into these dual personalities. Employees at Lumon are fully aware of the fact that they’re not supposed to know anything about the other version of themselves, and yet… they’re constantly reminded that something’s off.
Once the procedure’s done, it’s like an eerie version of a “new you.” The only thing you know about your personal life is what you’ve been told. And the work version? Well, they have zero clue about what’s going on outside the office. It’s a mind-bending way to ensure loyalty and productivity, but it’s also a recipe for psychological disaster.
The Ethics of Severance—Lumon’s Power Play
It didn’t take long for me to realize just how messed up this system was. The whole severance procedure at Lumon raises some seriously big ethical questions. Like, who owns your memories? If someone surgically severs your work and personal lives, how can you even be considered a whole person anymore? The show really dives deep into the consequences of that.
The whole “innie” vs “outie” dynamic is where it gets super creepy. These employees have to live as two entirely different people. And I’m not talking about like, “Oh, I’m going to wear a different outfit and act a little cooler at work today.” I’m talking full-on brain surgery-level control. When you’re at work, you have no memory of your personal life. And when you’re out of the office, you don’t remember anything that happens during your workday. Talk about a psychological rollercoaster.
I remember watching the show and thinking, “Man, I can barely remember what I had for lunch yesterday. These folks are losing entire portions of their lives.” I’d probably forget I even had lunch to begin with. The horror.
But seriously—what does it say about a company that creates such an invasive system? At Lumon, it’s clear that the only thing that matters is productivity. All the talk about “work-life balance” seems like a sick joke. In fact, the more you watch, the more you start to see Lumon as this ultimate control-freak organization, obsessed with keeping its employees from questioning anything.
Once I started thinking about it, I realized: Lumon doesn’t just want employees—they want complete control over them. It’s like they’ve built a company where work is your entire identity, and personal life? Forget about it. You’re basically just a cog in the machine.
Lumon’s Leadership—Or Lack Thereof
This brings us to the leadership of Lumon. Oh boy, let’s talk about those mysterious figures at the top. I mean, the CEO (or at least, the character we think might be the CEO) is barely ever seen. It’s like Lumon’s big bosses are the invisible hand behind a puppet show. It’s eerie.
And the company’s upper management? They’re just as creepy as the rest of the organization. No one ever really questions the system. They simply enforce it. The executives at Lumon are portrayed as if they’re immune to the human costs of their actions. In some ways, they don’t even seem human anymore. It’s like they’re functioning on autopilot, completely detached from the emotional wreckage caused by their policies.
I can’t help but think of that one episode where one of the higher-ups drops an email to an employee that’s basically an order—no questions, no answers. It’s as if the whole system is built on silence and obedience. It’s so much bigger than a regular company. They’re like an emotional cult, using bureaucracy as their method of control.
Fast forward past three failed attempts to get answers, and what do we have? A massive corporation where the people at the top don’t give a damn about the people below. You’d think that’s an exaggeration, but the more you watch, the more it feels like truth.
Once I really thought about it, I realized: Lumon’s not just a company—they’re a masterclass in manipulating people’s lives. The employees are just pawns in a bigger game. The higher-ups play it like chess, and the workers? They’re stuck in the middle, making moves they can’t even remember.
Lumon’s Aesthetic: What’s with the Weird Office?
Okay, here’s the thing. The building itself. I need to take a moment to talk about this because, if I’m being honest, it was the creepiest part for me. The office design at Lumon is… unsettling, to say the least. It’s like someone asked, “What’s the least inviting, most soul-crushing work environment we can possibly design?” and they just went with it.
The first time I saw that endless hallway with the cold fluorescent lights flickering overhead, I was like, “This can’t be real. This is the most depressing office I’ve ever seen in my life.” But here’s the thing: it’s not supposed to be real. It’s supposed to be a metaphor—a physical representation of the corporate hellscape they’ve created.
In a way, the building becomes Lumon. It’s sterile, mechanical, and literally a maze. You know the feeling you get when you walk into a big, empty, corporate building and it smells like overcooked coffee and sadness? That’s the vibe. Every corner of the Lumon headquarters is designed to make you feel small. It’s like they went out of their way to take away any sense of individuality.
Once I realized that, I couldn’t look at office buildings the same way again. It was like a switch flipped in my head. All those walls, the blank rooms, the endless corridors—they’re not just for decoration. They’re a tool. A way of making sure employees feel isolated. A way of reminding them they’re nothing but parts of a machine.
Anyway, if you’ve ever had a bad day at work, I bet you’ve walked into your office and thought, “Man, if I just had an escape plan right now…” But then again, you’ve probably never had to break your mind in half to survive your job.
The Bigger Picture: Lumon and Corporate Culture
Alright, here’s the kicker: Lumon isn’t just a crazy work environment. It’s a reflection of what we all fear could happen if corporate culture takes control of everything—our minds, our memories, and even our identities.
Once you think about it, Lumon is a metaphor for every overbearing company trying to squeeze its employees for more work, without caring about anything beyond the bottom line. They don’t care about your mental health. They don’t care about your personal life. They just want results.
I know it’s easy to look at Severance as a fictional nightmare, but honestly? The show shines a light on some very real issues. We’ve all been there, right? Burned out, exhausted, trying to escape the confines of work while still feeling trapped by it. Now, imagine if that were your entire existence—your work life, completely disconnected from the outside world, with no way of ever knowing what’s real.
