The protagonist Chuck’s journey from vengeful husband to interstellar mediator reveals Dick’s existential insight: hatred is performative labor. His plan to murder his ex-wife disintegrates not through moral epiphany, but through exhaustion—"Maybe that’s what you want. You’re tired"

Crucially, Dick dismantles psychiatric hegemony. Chuck is deemed psychotic by his psychologist ex-wife on Earth, yet future medical scans classify him as “normal”

. This paradox echoes Foucault’s Madness and Civilization: mental illness is a discursive construct of power. When corporations rebrand burnout as “passion,” or pathologize sensitivity as “weakness,” we replicate Earth’s imperial diagnosis of Alpha’s “deviants.” The Dep clan’s depression—revered as astronomical contemplation locally—becomes a potent metaphor: what if “disorders” are displaced genius?

Ultimately, Dick’s satellite is not an asylum but a laboratory for post-capitalist coexistence. In an age of algorithmic conformity, its clans teach us: true sanity lies in embracing our collective madness.