I actually have two editions of this. This book is one I like to reread. I like the language, and the raising of issues about who qualifies as 'human' (for example).
But I often don't agree with the arguments. I don't accept that loyalty and adherence to 'irrevocable' commitments are good behavior. It's taken me a lot of wrestling with my conscience to get to this point. This book made me reconsider--and I came to the same conclusion, after seriously considering the arguments.
Loyalty, by definition, is not sticking with ideas and people when you agree with them. If you agree with them, you don't NEED loyalty, since your own conscience and reason support you. It's when you DISagree with them that you need loyalty--and you can't afford it then. You can't give away your need to make independent decisions EVERY TIME. It's not acceptable to use the excuse of 'it's an emergency, and we have no other choice but between two evils--so we have to decide which is lesser'. No oath can absolve you of the responsibility to think things through, and not to do terrible things. Even if I could accept that the oath is just binding you to do what you'd decide to if you thought things through (and I can't), I can't accept the notion that you can make decisions ahead of time, or that you EVER have the right not to think things through. It's like the notion that, in the field, you can't take time for mourning. You MUST make time for mourning. Eating and sleeping can be sacrificed more easily than dealing with your emotional needs while on assignment. If you don't take the time to mourn, the questions raised by a loss don't get properly dealt with--and you'll make bad decisions about later matters.
I don't agree that ANY suffering is 'necessary'. If people only advance through suffering, then progress is, in fact, an immoral thing. I don't WANT to believe that present suffering is the price of future benefits. I'd MUCH rather believe that suffering is pointless, and that all sacrifices are in vain--so that I'll feel free to help people in need. I recall Miep Gies commenting that the only way to decide to help people instead of abandoning them (or worse yet, helping hurt them) was never to believe that anyone deserves what happens to them.
I don't agree that the Andrecians have no 'technology'. If the 'more advanced' societies don't regard the technical solutions the Andrecians have as technology, then they have a mistaken definition of technology. The Andrecians may not have such things as gunpowder (or they may, and it's not widespread). They certainly don't have spaceships. But they DO have technology, though we don't see much of it. We do see the products of it, however. They have looms (of some sort) because they wear cloth. They have wine-making technology. They have metalworking technology. They have woodcarving technology. They can almost certainly make charcoal. To define these things as not 'technology', because they don't involve 'science' in the way it's been (re)defined since the Enlightenment is perhaps not surprising for the Imperials--but the more 'advanced' Federation members should have escaped that pitfall at some point. Qualifying the term 'technology' with the adjective 'mechanized' doesn't really resolve anything. There were mechanized technologies in many ancient civilizations. It's not an accident that the early 'factories' were described as 'mills'. A mill is a mechanism, by definition. Adding an engine (steam or otherwise) to the works doesn't substantially change how it works.
Furthermore, there's a tendency to argue that feudal systems are previous to 'civilized' ones, in a dependable and progressive history. It was not so in Europe on Earth, and it may not have been so anywhere on Earth. One of the exercises we had in archaeology class was to put artifacts in chronological order. We all made the same mistake. One society was considerably less 'advanced' that another (Mississippian and Hopewell, for those who are keeping score). On any standard of life (wide-ranging trade, health, food security...you name it), the agricultural Mississippians were worse off than the hunting and gathering Hopewell--who preceded them chronologically.
In Europe, feudal societies developed in areas where the preceding CIVILIZED societies had collapsed. Many later spread to other areas which had been inhabited by 'barbarians'--but many of the 'barbarian' societies had actually been incorporated into the empires that collapsed. Note, for example, that in most versions of Arthurian lore, the people of Camelot are trying to REestablish (or conserve the remains of) ROMAN Britain. They aren't harking back to pre-Roman times, but to a period when most places south of what's now the Danelaw were part of a client state of the Roman Empire.
Whether a feudal state COULD be developed in the absence of the 'villas' for the villages to cluster around is not clear. It may be that the prior civilization is an essential prerequisite. At least one of my anthropology teachers argued that a main reason for the collapse of the Roman empire was actually a progressive technological development. A new type of plow was developed that made it possible to plow areas that were previously not cultivable. The local people thus became less dependent on the redistribution systems of the empire--and so were able to send the tax collectors away without starving the next bad year.
Of course, the Roman Empire was quite long-lasting. Though it ebbed and flowed for centuries, it's unlikely that there was any one reason for its final collapse. So to test whether feudal societies would develop 'naturally' in the absence of the ruins of empire, it would be necessary to examine agricultural societies that never DID develop any sort of feudal society, and never had been incorporated in empires.
The Domesday book demonstrates some of the processes by which a society that had been only semi-feudal (if that much so) developed into fully feudal societies, with few to no pockets of freeholders who could 'go where they would'. But, for example, Pueblo societies (which, after 'Anasazi' times, were mostly NOT agricultural, but rather horticultural) stubbornly resisted this sort of hierarchical structure--to such a degree that when the Conquistadores tried to impose it, the nonviolent Pueblos rose in revolt against them.
You can argue that the Pueblos were an isolated case, and not typical of responses to feudalization. Perhaps. But too many people forget that the old expression that 'the exception proves the rule' uses an old sense of the word 'prove', which is the EXACT SAME word as the word 'probe'. The exception TESTS the rule, and often the rule fails the test.
The Andrecian 'natives' in this book are not immature in any sense. The idea that societies go through stages similar to the development of human children is a fallacious one. It's also dangerous, because it leads to the notion that people who don't have 'technology' in the narrow sense that's used aren't fully human.
It's a pity, really. The book is a good one, and the issues that are raised in it are important. A little more thought would make it a truly great book. But in its present state, the resolution doesn't live up to the youthful promise. It's not just that people's lives are ruined, and they don't get the rewards they have a 'right' to hope for. It's also that NO reward would repay the mischief that's inflicted--or ANY imposed or 'natural' suffering. And is suffering to 'deserve' happiness REALLY a model we want to encourage?
Federation societies are essentially undescribed in this book. The Academy is explicitly distinguished from the ordinary societies--but it's not very thoroughly described, either. In a sense, there's mostly definition by exclusion. There's a lot more description of what the Federation is NOT than about what it IS.
The Federation in James White's books is much more realistic. Very different peoples live and work together in a somewhat fractious Pax Galactica. But they don't pretend to be 'superior' to planet-bound cultures. And they're very far from having solved all their problems. They've tried to balance protection from dangers with maximal freedom--but they often fail--sometimes in silly ways. Why should you have to order a century's supply of nutmeg to avoid questions, for example? Still, their attempts are more concrete (and steel, and composites) and more individualistic than the nebulous 'Federation' sketched in this book.