Nothing screams 2020s like alienation. Social media is twisting the children and their self-images; the male loneliness epidemic is in full swing; political instability buzzes beyond the border of every news headline. Connection and security are out, distance and severance are in. Literally.

Authors have been theorizing about the rupture of selfhood for centuries. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was written far before there was any reasonable scientific basis for a person to split themselves in any way, let alone in a manner so physical. The novella still managed to resonate with its audience; maybe humans have always felt themselves to be multiple pieces, instead of a single harmonious whole. Psychologists and doctors managed to settle the issue conclusively through surgical intervention. Corpus callosotomy is the surgery by which the tissue connecting the left and right sides of the brain is severed, and was invented to suppress epileptic seizures by preventing the neural impulses that caused them from propagating. Post-operational patients can see an object and write down what it is, all while totally unable to say what it is out loud. The portion of the brain responsible for writing and the portion that controls speech are on opposite sides of the brain.

However, self-alienation has managed to outshine other forms of detachment, at least in the popular media of the last few years. The contemporary splitting of the self occurs only psychologically, but is still substantial. Social media is one area where this is especially alarming--- even those who acknowledge social media's harmful effects on both children and adults maintain a pristine online profile. No wants to share their sloppiest moments with the whole world. This type of representation is not necessarily fake; it isn't deceptive to show off your dog, your vacation, or any facet of your life. Shareable mass media allows us to share the joyful parts of lives with those who care about us, and participate in other people's journey's in a meaningful way irrespective of distance. That is a beautiful thing!

However, social media is siloed. It is by definition a careful orchestration of what goes where. It causes no obvious harm akin to Dr. Jekyll's case, but a profile directly tears off a part of the person it represents. Users can even create multiple simulacra. They may start with a public profile and then create a private profile for close friends which presents a more authentic—yet still cherry-picked—self.

English has minted new words that let individuals express their uneasiness of identity. The term "future me" has skyrocketed in popularity since the year 2000. I am guilty of using this one myself in context of how my "future me" will be grateful I am doing this or that something is a "future me" problem. This is alarming! There is no he and you, to misquote The Substance. There is only you.

The Substance isn't the only contemporary work to explicitly dissociate a person. Severance, a TV show by Dan Erickson, features a surgical procedure that actually splits the self into two or more pieces. The surgery results in a total separation of work-life and everything else. The individual decouples into two, with one conscious personality only having memories of work and nothing outside of it, and the other remembering nothing about work. Each day, they commute and feel as if the entire day passed instantly. It siloes the harder parts of our life away the same way social media brings them front and center.

Why are two of the most popular pieces of media over the last year riffing off of the same theme, and why has it resonated so much? These forms of media allow us to perform a self-examination of why we are so vulnerable to this fracture. They allow us to ask questions about why social media and modern work culture necessitated dissociation from the self. Ironically, I don't believe this is caused by any active process that pressure-cooks us. Instead, it stems from a social re-prioritization of other relationships, the kind that serve as both communal and individual glue.

In Severance, Mark's entire character arc centers around a single type of relationship-- his lover. This role is played by two different characters, but they occupy a single place in Mark's life. He has no friends outside of work, and his innie coworkers are strangers as far as the outer Mark is concerned. He has a fraught relationship with his sister as well, but for the vast majority of the series she is focused on her husband and her own life, and cannot function on her own as a supportive pillar in the wake of his depression. One of the first actions we see her take in the series is the attempt at finding Mark a new romantic partner, filling the role of lover in his life.

The Substance's Elisabeth has an even sadder existence, as she seems to have no close relationships in her life. Her day-to-day is characterized by an obsession with her work, her appearance, and her fading youth. When Sue, Elisabeth's younger, serum-infused self reveals herself to Elisabeth's neighbor, he forgets the person who lived next door to him instantly. She is illusory and has no permanent ties.

Elisabeth's isolation makes her far more vulnerable to the Substance itself. The serum itself falls under the Cursed Gift trope that is common to the horror genre. However, the most common variant of this development involves a close friend or confidant offering an item of dubious origin. Comparatively, in the The Monkey's Paw, Gremlins, and The Lord of the Rings, the doom-bound trinket is given to its terminal misuser by a trusted friend or relative. The receiver's trust of the gifter and the gifter's earnestness dispel suspicion enough for the receiver to use the cursed item and fall prey to its consequences. In The Substance, there is no trusted figure. Elisabeth's loneliness, vulnerability and desperation lead her to accept an unsavory present from an unknown medical professional. Moreover, in books that do have the protagonist receiving the gift from the source, as in Rice's Interview with the Vampire, the character is bereaved and a hermit. In other words, they have retreated voluntarily from society.

This relational shift has crept into contemporary literature. Take two works of fiction, both picaresque coming-of-age novels: The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Demon Copperhead. Both start off as orphans. Huck Finn starts his journey with a multitude of personal connections. He has a best friend in Tom Sawyer, a young mentor in Jim. Various adults, like the Widow Douglas and Judge Thatcher, act as older mentors and elders. He has other boys from the town he is well-acquainted with. All this, and Huck is considered a reclusive child by the responsible adults in his life. In contrast, Demon Copperhead’s relationships are fewer and more intensely focused. His early life centers on his mom. Later, his best friend, Maggot, becomes a key figure. However, society forcibly rips Demon away from other attachments he forms, even brief ones. He only reconnects with some of these people much later, and on terms where the bonds cannot be fully formed.

Twain's antebellum South was bigoted and brutal. Yet, a Reconstruction-era audience expected even an abused orphan to have strong communal ties. Demon’s childhood tells a different tale; no one is surprised when the Peggots cannot take Demon in, and the foster care system's failure is devastating but expected. The diverse perspectives that Huck encounters are genuine and instructive, and he uses them to forge an identity of his own. Conversely, Demon's early relationships are largely transactional and exploitative. He learns to present a façade and splinters his soul--- there is the football Demon, the Gifted Demon, the Fast-Forward Demon, and the Maggot Demon. By the time Demon arrives at Coach’s home, he is a broken collection of parts.

Research shows that the average child, teenager, and adult report feeling more isolated today than at any point since we started surveying loneliness. Thankfully, most children do not undergo even a fraction of Demon's trauma. However, we just don't have the wide network that was filled by communal life. Culturally, strong emphasis has only been placed on a singular monogamous relationship. Social media has only reinforced this idea. I'm not arguing against that. But overreliance on one individual relationship type over communal fabric forces unrealistic expectations on one's romantic partner.

Beyond having multiple emotional outlets, a multiplicity in kind and in number of connections, all of whom interact together, mean richer interactions for you to express yourself without any self-negation. A 2022 PNAS analysis of more than 50 000 people found that the greater the “relational diversity” of one’s social portfolio—family, friends, coworkers, mentors—the higher their reported well-being, independent of the total time spent socializing. Mentors teach their creed, and mentees force their teachers to verbalize their own experiences and consider them deeply. Friends are supporters and rivals bundled up into one; best friends are exposed to the barest, most vulnerable versions of the self. Elders, even for adults, determine the broad contours of community.

These roles will always exist, but if they are not played by multiple individuals, then one or two have to pick up the slack. Demon realizes long before he goes to rehab that Dari is the only one tying him to the drug-fueled chapter of his life. Outtie Mark is so blinded by his love of his wife that he can't even understand the equivalent desire of his innie for love, friendship and meaning.

The best case for the modern hierarchy of relationships is that it strives for perfection; the worst case is that people collapse when they cannot rely on anyone but themselves. Does there exist an ideal partner who can serve as a teacher, a student, an authority, a rival, a child, an adult, in all areas and with only a small amount of half-hearted support from siblings? Perhaps. More likely, that ever-hungry hole is filled by social media and loneliness. In fiction, the most vulnerable characters are not necessarily the ones who are going through the most pain. They are the ones who have no one to support them. Mark S. is ultimately saved by his sister. Elisa-Sue is saved by no one.