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As The Insider has discovered, Russia continues to freely import Taiwanese silicon for wafer plates, which serve as the basic component for the majority of all microchips made in the country. Such microchips are integral in the production of fighter jets, Iskander missiles, S-300 launchers, Pantsir surface-to-air missile systems, and other military equipment. If Taiwan curbs its export of crucial silicon, Russia’s military-industrial complex could face insurmountable difficulties.

Russia’s microchip production in detail

Modern microchip production is a complex technological process that no country in the world has been able to master domestically. The chip layout is usually developed by a U.S.-based fabless company such as Apple or Texas Instruments. The blueprints are then passed on to a foundry — an industrial manufacturer that does not design its own chips but implements customers’ designs. A single Taiwanese company, TSMC, holds a significant portion of the manufacturers’ market, with U.S.-based Intel and Korea’s Samsung, which fabricate chips in-house, representing the rare exceptions. Chip production depends on the supply of semiconductor lithography platforms, and the market for cutting-edge lithography equipment has essentially been monopolized by the Dutch company ASML, with Nikon and Canon holding a small share of this market.

Russia has tried to establish its own microchip production both on the fabless model and as a full cycle. Until recently, Taiwan accepted Russian orders for Baikal and Elbrus processors from Russian fabless manufacturers. However, TSMC stopped shipments to Russia following the outbreak of full-scale war.

Can Russia manufacture microchips domestically? It can for some varieties, but not for all.

AO VZPP Mikron belongs to the group of entities affiliated with the Mikron plant in Zelenograd. The group also includes AO Mikron, OOO Mikron Security Printing, OOO Sitronics Smart Technologies, OOO Element Technologies, and a few dozen more companies. It is impossible to establish the comprehensive structure of ownership for this conglomerate based on open-source tax data, as relevant ownership data for legal entities set up as AO (joint-stock companies) is not available in the public domain. Wikipedia lists OAO RTI as Mikron’s parent organization. In April 2024, it was merged with AO Research and Production Association of Long-Range Radiolocation (Previously known as the RTI Systems Concern). As follows from Wikipedia and the Association of Russian Banks, the majority shareholder of the latter company is AFK Sistema, a conglomerate owned primarily by Vladimir Yevtushenkov, a Russian oligarch who appears on multiple sanctions lists.

• Pai Haung Technology (Taiwan)
• MCL Electronic Materials (China)
• Jiangsu Lewon Software Co., Ltd. (China)
• Shanghai Dongxu Electronic Technology (the Chinese arm of the Japanese corporation D&X Co., Ltd.)

• Kunshan Sino Silicon Technology Co., Ltd. (China, up to 2018)
• MCL Electronic Materials, Ltd. (China)
• MEMC Electronics Materials (USA, up to 2018)
• Elmatech Co., Ltd. (Thailand, up to 2018)
• Globalwafers Co., Ltd. (Taiwan, up to 2019)

To name a few, SMT-Max, Sovtest ATE, Sunrise, and Contract Holding.

Filters used to expose photoresist in certain areas of the wafer.

Microchip manufacturing in a nutshell:

• Photolithography equipment installation
• Integrated circuit design
• Fabrication of photomasks based on the design
• Patterning on wafers with the use of photolithography
• Cutting the semiconductor plate into individual circuits, attaching pins, and packaging.

The definitive characteristic of modern photolithography is the wavelength of the machine’s laser. The shorter the wavelength, the smaller the feature size (and the higher the resolution). While the 193 nm (“deep ultraviolet”) wavelength tools are made by ASML, Nikon, and Canon, the 13.5 nm (“extreme ultraviolet”, which approaches the X-ray range) is only made by ASML. Samsung may have the capacity to make such tools, but the company probably uses them only for its own needs. And hardly anyone can set up the production of state-of-the-art chip manufacturing equipment from scratch.

An ASML spokesperson assured The Insider that the company has never sold substantial amounts of equipment to Russia. Since 2014, $50 million worth of ASML-branded goods have been imported into the country. The dollar value may appear significant, but in fact it is not enough to buy even a single modern lithography system, as prices vary from $100 million to $400 million. Russia only imported parts of dismantled old equipment from third countries, ASML asserts. Ukrainian publication Ekonomichna Pravda largely confirms this assessment. As of 2022, five industrial ASML installations with wavelengths ranging from 365 to 193 nm were reported to be in operation in Russia: at the Scientific Research Institute for System Analysis, Mapper, Zelenograd Nanotechnology Center, and Mikron.

AO VZPP Mikron belongs to the group of entities affiliated with the Mikron plant in Zelenograd. The group also includes AO Mikron, OOO Mikron Security Printing, OOO Sitronics Smart Technologies, OOO Element Technologies, and a few dozen more companies. It is impossible to establish the comprehensive structure of ownership for this conglomerate based on open-source tax data, as relevant ownership data for legal entities set up as AO (joint-stock companies) is not available in the public domain. Wikipedia lists OAO RTI as Mikron’s parent organization. In April 2024, it was merged with AO Research and Production Association of Long-Range Radiolocation (Previously known as the RTI Systems Concern). As follows from Wikipedia and the Association of Russian Banks, the majority shareholder of the latter company is AFK Sistema, a conglomerate owned primarily by Vladimir Yevtushenkov, a Russian oligarch who appears on multiple sanctions lists.

• Pai Haung Technology (Taiwan)
• MCL Electronic Materials (China)
• Jiangsu Lewon Software Co., Ltd. (China)
• Shanghai Dongxu Electronic Technology (the Chinese arm of the Japanese corporation D&X Co., Ltd.)

• Kunshan Sino Silicon Technology Co., Ltd. (China, up to 2018)
• MCL Electronic Materials, Ltd. (China)
• MEMC Electronics Materials (USA, up to 2018)
• Elmatech Co., Ltd. (Thailand, up to 2018)
• Globalwafers Co., Ltd. (Taiwan, up to 2019)

To name a few, SMT-Max, Sovtest ATE, Sunrise, and Contract Holding.

Filters used to expose photoresist in certain areas of the wafer.

Microchip manufacturing in a nutshell:

• Photolithography equipment installation
• Integrated circuit design
• Fabrication of photomasks based on the design
• Patterning on wafers with the use of photolithography
• Cutting the semiconductor plate into individual circuits, attaching pins, and packaging.

According to the manufacturer, these machines are extremely outdated, 15 to 20 years old. Yet they appear to be functional. In 2023 alone, almost $3.5 million worth of photomasks intended for ASML systems passed through Russian customs. ASML insists that it does not service its equipment and that the parts circulate in a secondary market that the manufacturer does not control.

Internal data from Russian customs suggests that in 2023, Russia imported a total of $150.5 million worth of goods intended for the production of microchips and printed circuit boards (customs code 848620). The list of buyers includes innocuous civilian entities (such as Sitronics Smart Technologies, which manufactures smart cards and chips, and Hevel, which makes solar panels), resellers of various equipment (including sanctioned goods), and organizations that bought small volumes of equipment for a peripheral, non-core project (such as the IT company Crafttech).

However, there are also companies like Epiel, which claims to produce microchips in Russia and is well-connected in the country’s military-industrial complex. Such companies account for the majority of purchases under HS code 848690, which indicates parts and accessories for chip fabrication equipment. Of those firms listed, only Sitronics Smart Technologies, Hevel, and Epiel are known to produce chips independently.

In addition to the handful of Western lithographic machines imported in pre-sanction times, Russian manufacturers have access to machines from the Minsk-based Planar plant. These operate at a wavelength of 350 nm with a minimum feature size of 500 nm, representing a technology that emerged in 1995 and had become obsolete by 1999.

Military production

The lack of modern technologies for the production of high-performance, commercially viable microchips in Russia does not mean that local manufacturers do not know how to lithograph semiconductor crystals. Technologies for doing so were developed back in Soviet times. For example, the Russian company Mikron has mastered the 180-nm technology in mass production and 90-nm in piece production, according to photolithography professional Denis Shamiryan. For the 90 nm process, Mikron uses STMicroelectronics lithography equipment. Mikron’s civilian products are limited to chips for bank cards and passports. Its yearly output reaches 4 billion microchips. As Shamiryan recalls, there were also plans to produce chips at Angstrem-T in Zelenograd, Moscow Region, with the use of 130-nm and 90-nm technologies. In the late 2000s, Angstrem-T purchased full ASML production lines from AMD’s Fab36 plant in Dresden. However, the plans never came to fruition, as Angstrem-T was declared bankrupt in 2019. However, another Zelenograd-based entity with a similar name, Angstrem (minus the T), produces a range of microchips.

AO VZPP Mikron belongs to the group of entities affiliated with the Mikron plant in Zelenograd. The group also includes AO Mikron, OOO Mikron Security Printing, OOO Sitronics Smart Technologies, OOO Element Technologies, and a few dozen more companies. It is impossible to establish the comprehensive structure of ownership for this conglomerate based on open-source tax data, as relevant ownership data for legal entities set up as AO (joint-stock companies) is not available in the public domain. Wikipedia lists OAO RTI as Mikron’s parent organization. In April 2024, it was merged with AO Research and Production Association of Long-Range Radiolocation (Previously known as the RTI Systems Concern). As follows from Wikipedia and the Association of Russian Banks, the majority shareholder of the latter company is AFK Sistema, a conglomerate owned primarily by Vladimir Yevtushenkov, a Russian oligarch who appears on multiple sanctions lists.

• Pai Haung Technology (Taiwan)
• MCL Electronic Materials (China)
• Jiangsu Lewon Software Co., Ltd. (China)
• Shanghai Dongxu Electronic Technology (the Chinese arm of the Japanese corporation D&X Co., Ltd.)

• Kunshan Sino Silicon Technology Co., Ltd. (China, up to 2018)
• MCL Electronic Materials, Ltd. (China)
• MEMC Electronics Materials (USA, up to 2018)
• Elmatech Co., Ltd. (Thailand, up to 2018)
• Globalwafers Co., Ltd. (Taiwan, up to 2019)

To name a few, SMT-Max, Sovtest ATE, Sunrise, and Contract Holding.

Filters used to expose photoresist in certain areas of the wafer.

Microchip manufacturing in a nutshell:

• Photolithography equipment installation
• Integrated circuit design
• Fabrication of photomasks based on the design
• Patterning on wafers with the use of photolithography
• Cutting the semiconductor plate into individual circuits, attaching pins, and packaging.

An Angstrem microchip from an Iskander missile on the same board as Western chips

Finally, as Shamiryan writes, Crocus NanoElectronics, a Rusnano Group plant, succeeded in setting up the 65-nm process. The plant was built to produce magnetoresistive RAM (random-access memory). However, it could only carry out half of the production cycle itself and remained dependent on foreign supplies. As a result, sanctions put the plant out of business.

Russia’s surviving microchip production facilities serve mainly military needs. Thus, joint-stock company AO Epiel operates in Zelenograd near Moscow and positions itself as Russia’s leader in the epi process. Also known as epitaxial growth, this process, which optimizes the performance of semiconductor devices and integrated circuits, is an essential stage in silicon wafer fabrication. According to its latest public financial statement, the company’s 2020 revenue bordered on $7 million. Epiel works with wafers 100, 150, and 200 mm in diameter. Meanwhile, the most advanced modern technology utilizes 300-mm plates. Epiel secured government contracts from the Ministry of Industry and Trade for hundreds of thousands of dollars and supplied processed wafers to the joint-stock company NZPP Vostok (“Novosibirsk Plant of Semiconductor Devices”), which produced ready-made chips for end manufacturers. According to the latest available public procurement data, NZPP Vostok actively cooperated with a Rosatom entity, the K.A. Volodin Instrument-Making Plant (Federal State Unitary Enterprise), which specializes in the production of nuclear munitions.

AO VZPP Mikron belongs to the group of entities affiliated with the Mikron plant in Zelenograd. The group also includes AO Mikron, OOO Mikron Security Printing, OOO Sitronics Smart Technologies, OOO Element Technologies, and a few dozen more companies. It is impossible to establish the comprehensive structure of ownership for this conglomerate based on open-source tax data, as relevant ownership data for legal entities set up as AO (joint-stock companies) is not available in the public domain. Wikipedia lists OAO RTI as Mikron’s parent organization. In April 2024, it was merged with AO Research and Production Association of Long-Range Radiolocation (Previously known as the RTI Systems Concern). As follows from Wikipedia and the Association of Russian Banks, the majority shareholder of the latter company is AFK Sistema, a conglomerate owned primarily by Vladimir Yevtushenkov, a Russian oligarch who appears on multiple sanctions lists.

• Pai Haung Technology (Taiwan)
• MCL Electronic Materials (China)
• Jiangsu Lewon Software Co., Ltd. (China)
• Shanghai Dongxu Electronic Technology (the Chinese arm of the Japanese corporation D&X Co., Ltd.)

• Kunshan Sino Silicon Technology Co., Ltd. (China, up to 2018)
• MCL Electronic Materials, Ltd. (China)
• MEMC Electronics Materials (USA, up to 2018)
• Elmatech Co., Ltd. (Thailand, up to 2018)
• Globalwafers Co., Ltd. (Taiwan, up to 2019)

To name a few, SMT-Max, Sovtest ATE, Sunrise, and Contract Holding.

Filters used to expose photoresist in certain areas of the wafer.

Microchip manufacturing in a nutshell:

• Photolithography equipment installation
• Integrated circuit design
• Fabrication of photomasks based on the design
• Patterning on wafers with the use of photolithography
• Cutting the semiconductor plate into individual circuits, attaching pins, and packaging.

NZPP Vostok actively cooperated with a Rosatom entity that specializes in the production of nuclear munitions

To say that NZPP Vostok’s products are obsolete is an understatement. The plant still makes 64-Kbit memory chips and, at least until recently, was selling millions of rubles worth of them to military enterprises such as the Rybinsk-based Luch Design Bureau, which develops military equipment, including drones.

Another customer of Epiel’s is the Voronezh-based Research Institute of Electronic Equipment, which supplies the Fiolent military plant in occupied Crimea, the Sozvezdie Concern (which manufactures electronic warfare and communication and control equipment for the armed forces), and Rosatom’s aforementioned Volodin Instrument-Making Plant. Available records also suggest the existence of cooperation between Epiel and the former electronics plant Pulsar, which manufactures microwave devices, transistors, and microchips for the military. Epiel has also fulfilled contracts for the N.L. Dukhov All-Russian Research Institute of Automation, which develops nuclear warheads. Epiel’s address matches that of Sitronics Smart Technologies, which is said to belong to the Mikron Group. Moreover, Epiel shares premises with Mikron and the Research Institute of Molecular Electronics. Therefore, it is reasonable to assume that Epiel belongs to the same group of companies.

Specific applications of Russian-made microchips in weapons include the 1890VM6Ya processor and its variants in Baguette flight control computers on fighter jets.

Russian microchips made by Angstrem are used in the Iskander missile, alongside foreign chips, as shown in the photo above.

The Russian 1645RU3U memory chip manufactured by Milandr, shown in the photo below, is used in the S-300 and the Pantsir SAM systems.

AO VZPP Mikron belongs to the group of entities affiliated with the Mikron plant in Zelenograd. The group also includes AO Mikron, OOO Mikron Security Printing, OOO Sitronics Smart Technologies, OOO Element Technologies, and a few dozen more companies. It is impossible to establish the comprehensive structure of ownership for this conglomerate based on open-source tax data, as relevant ownership data for legal entities set up as AO (joint-stock companies) is not available in the public domain. Wikipedia lists OAO RTI as Mikron’s parent organization. In April 2024, it was merged with AO Research and Production Association of Long-Range Radiolocation (Previously known as the RTI Systems Concern). As follows from Wikipedia and the Association of Russian Banks, the majority shareholder of the latter company is AFK Sistema, a conglomerate owned primarily by Vladimir Yevtushenkov, a Russian oligarch who appears on multiple sanctions lists.

• Pai Haung Technology (Taiwan)
• MCL Electronic Materials (China)
• Jiangsu Lewon Software Co., Ltd. (China)
• Shanghai Dongxu Electronic Technology (the Chinese arm of the Japanese corporation D&X Co., Ltd.)

• Kunshan Sino Silicon Technology Co., Ltd. (China, up to 2018)
• MCL Electronic Materials, Ltd. (China)
• MEMC Electronics Materials (USA, up to 2018)
• Elmatech Co., Ltd. (Thailand, up to 2018)
• Globalwafers Co., Ltd. (Taiwan, up to 2019)

To name a few, SMT-Max, Sovtest ATE, Sunrise, and Contract Holding.

Filters used to expose photoresist in certain areas of the wafer.

Microchip manufacturing in a nutshell:

• Photolithography equipment installation
• Integrated circuit design
• Fabrication of photomasks based on the design
• Patterning on wafers with the use of photolithography
• Cutting the semiconductor plate into individual circuits, attaching pins, and packaging.

A Russian memory chip used in weapons

Back in 2011, an article on the popular IT portal Habr reported that Russian chips manufactured by Milandr on a 180-nm technology machine are used in Russian fighter jets and air defense systems.

The process of Russian domestic chip fabrication seems to work as follows: First, Epiel carries out epitaxial growth on imported wafers. Then companies such as Mikron, NZPP Vostok, Pulsar, or the Research Institute of Electronic Equipment use these semiconductor products to make ready-to-use microchips. According to industry experts, the process may include cutting wafers into individual crystals, attaching pins, and ”packaging” them.

The chips are mostly archaic, but Russian weapons manufacturers must have their reasons for choosing domestic products over more technologically advanced Chinese analogs. Most likely, the Kremlin’s military industry is holding on to the few technologies in which Russia is independent — even if the financial benefits are negligible when compared to Russia’s exorbitant military spending. And since the chips are mostly used in large, heavy weapons, the benefit of miniaturization provided by state-of-the-art electronics is essentially irrelevant.

AO VZPP Mikron belongs to the group of entities affiliated with the Mikron plant in Zelenograd. The group also includes AO Mikron, OOO Mikron Security Printing, OOO Sitronics Smart Technologies, OOO Element Technologies, and a few dozen more companies. It is impossible to establish the comprehensive structure of ownership for this conglomerate based on open-source tax data, as relevant ownership data for legal entities set up as AO (joint-stock companies) is not available in the public domain. Wikipedia lists OAO RTI as Mikron’s parent organization. In April 2024, it was merged with AO Research and Production Association of Long-Range Radiolocation (Previously known as the RTI Systems Concern). As follows from Wikipedia and the Association of Russian Banks, the majority shareholder of the latter company is AFK Sistema, a conglomerate owned primarily by Vladimir Yevtushenkov, a Russian oligarch who appears on multiple sanctions lists.

• Pai Haung Technology (Taiwan)
• MCL Electronic Materials (China)
• Jiangsu Lewon Software Co., Ltd. (China)
• Shanghai Dongxu Electronic Technology (the Chinese arm of the Japanese corporation D&X Co., Ltd.)

• Kunshan Sino Silicon Technology Co., Ltd. (China, up to 2018)
• MCL Electronic Materials, Ltd. (China)
• MEMC Electronics Materials (USA, up to 2018)
• Elmatech Co., Ltd. (Thailand, up to 2018)
• Globalwafers Co., Ltd. (Taiwan, up to 2019)

To name a few, SMT-Max, Sovtest ATE, Sunrise, and Contract Holding.

Filters used to expose photoresist in certain areas of the wafer.

Microchip manufacturing in a nutshell:

• Photolithography equipment installation
• Integrated circuit design
• Fabrication of photomasks based on the design
• Patterning on wafers with the use of photolithography
• Cutting the semiconductor plate into individual circuits, attaching pins, and packaging.

The Kremlin’s military industry is holding on to the few technologies in which Russia is independent

Raw materials from Taiwan for “Russia’s very own” microchips

All microelectronic elements are based on silicon wafer plates, or wafers. Semiconductors are deposited on wafers with the use of epitaxy to form microscopic transistors connected by conductor tracks, which are separated by dielectric layers.

Russia’s largest importer of silicon wafers is OOO Hevel, which brought in nearly $7 million worth of wafers from China in 2023, but these are intended for solar panels. What we are looking for is silicon for the military. In that category, one of the largest importers is Epiel, with $2.2 million worth of wafers in 2023. Many of the company’s end users are military enterprises, and the majority of its suppliers from the early 2010s up until the full-scale invasion of Ukraine were Asian and U.S.-based entities.

AO VZPP Mikron belongs to the group of entities affiliated with the Mikron plant in Zelenograd. The group also includes AO Mikron, OOO Mikron Security Printing, OOO Sitronics Smart Technologies, OOO Element Technologies, and a few dozen more companies. It is impossible to establish the comprehensive structure of ownership for this conglomerate based on open-source tax data, as relevant ownership data for legal entities set up as AO (joint-stock companies) is not available in the public domain. Wikipedia lists OAO RTI as Mikron’s parent organization. In April 2024, it was merged with AO Research and Production Association of Long-Range Radiolocation (Previously known as the RTI Systems Concern). As follows from Wikipedia and the Association of Russian Banks, the majority shareholder of the latter company is AFK Sistema, a conglomerate owned primarily by Vladimir Yevtushenkov, a Russian oligarch who appears on multiple sanctions lists.

• Pai Haung Technology (Taiwan)
• MCL Electronic Materials (China)
• Jiangsu Lewon Software Co., Ltd. (China)
• Shanghai Dongxu Electronic Technology (the Chinese arm of the Japanese corporation D&X Co., Ltd.)

• Kunshan Sino Silicon Technology Co., Ltd. (China, up to 2018)
• MCL Electronic Materials, Ltd. (China)
• MEMC Electronics Materials (USA, up to 2018)
• Elmatech Co., Ltd. (Thailand, up to 2018)
• Globalwafers Co., Ltd. (Taiwan, up to 2019)

To name a few, SMT-Max, Sovtest ATE, Sunrise, and Contract Holding.

Filters used to expose photoresist in certain areas of the wafer.

Microchip manufacturing in a nutshell:

• Photolithography equipment installation
• Integrated circuit design
• Fabrication of photomasks based on the design
• Patterning on wafers with the use of photolithography
• Cutting the semiconductor plate into individual circuits, attaching pins, and packaging.

After the outbreak of full-scale war, Epiel had to overhaul its entire supplier base and begin sourcing silicon wafers from several major exporters in Southeast Asia.

AO VZPP Mikron belongs to the group of entities affiliated with the Mikron plant in Zelenograd. The group also includes AO Mikron, OOO Mikron Security Printing, OOO Sitronics Smart Technologies, OOO Element Technologies, and a few dozen more companies. It is impossible to establish the comprehensive structure of ownership for this conglomerate based on open-source tax data, as relevant ownership data for legal entities set up as AO (joint-stock companies) is not available in the public domain. Wikipedia lists OAO RTI as Mikron’s parent organization. In April 2024, it was merged with AO Research and Production Association of Long-Range Radiolocation (Previously known as the RTI Systems Concern). As follows from Wikipedia and the Association of Russian Banks, the majority shareholder of the latter company is AFK Sistema, a conglomerate owned primarily by Vladimir Yevtushenkov, a Russian oligarch who appears on multiple sanctions lists.

• Pai Haung Technology (Taiwan)
• MCL Electronic Materials (China)
• Jiangsu Lewon Software Co., Ltd. (China)
• Shanghai Dongxu Electronic Technology (the Chinese arm of the Japanese corporation D&X Co., Ltd.)

• Kunshan Sino Silicon Technology Co., Ltd. (China, up to 2018)
• MCL Electronic Materials, Ltd. (China)
• MEMC Electronics Materials (USA, up to 2018)
• Elmatech Co., Ltd. (Thailand, up to 2018)
• Globalwafers Co., Ltd. (Taiwan, up to 2019)

To name a few, SMT-Max, Sovtest ATE, Sunrise, and Contract Holding.

Filters used to expose photoresist in certain areas of the wafer.

Microchip manufacturing in a nutshell:

• Photolithography equipment installation
• Integrated circuit design
• Fabrication of photomasks based on the design
• Patterning on wafers with the use of photolithography
• Cutting the semiconductor plate into individual circuits, attaching pins, and packaging.

In this list, Pai Haung Technology stands out for reasons other than sheer volumes. Customs records suggest that this company does business only with a handful of Russian and Belarusian entities, shipping wafers to them directly from Taiwan. Since the full-scale war in Ukraine began, Pai Haung Technology has sold $4 million worth of wafers to Russia and Belarus under its original brand. However, the brand does not have any online presence to speak of, and many customs documents list a different company as the manufacturer — Wafer Works Corporation.

According to its corporate website, Wafer Works has been around since 1997 and is a well-established wafer manufacturer with revenues of about $400 million a year. Its management and production facilities are located in Taiwan.

If the obscure Pai Haung Technology brand does not in fact manufacture wafers, then its role in the chain is limited to that of a reseller-intermediary. Project Kharon investigators discovered that Pai Haung Technology was listed as an affiliated entity on the website of the U.S.-based DMS Electronic Components Group (incidentally founded by Soviet emigres). Now, however, that bit of information has disappeared from the site.

Violation of sanctions

In an interview with Taiwanese journalist Yian Lee, Pai Haung CEO Bao Yongjian said he strictly abides by Taiwanese laws and does not do business with sanctioned companies. Zelenograd-based Epiel is indeed not included in the Taiwanese or other sanctions lists, even though it is an integral link in the manufacturing process for products ultimately used by Russia’s military industry. However, another of Pai Haung’s clients, AO VZPP Mikron (joint-stock company Voronezh Plant of Semiconductor Devices Mikron), is under sanctions. In 2020, Mikron received a series of government contracts to develop radiation-hardened Zener diodes of up to 1,200 volts, which are more likely to find military rather than civilian applications.

UPD After this article was published, Pai Haung Technology contacted The Insider and provided an extra comment, stating that they supply only “test” (or “monitoring”) wafers to EPIEL. Pai Haung Technology claims to have “worldwide business,” the business with Russia being a smaller part of it. The company states that the Project Kharon reporting is incorrect. Pai Haung Technology also claims that they ceased any business with Mikron and Kremny after those companies were put on the US sanctions list in 2022 and also ceased the business with AO VZPP Mikron after it was placed on Taiwan’s sanctions list in May 2022.

Epiel’s fourth largest supplier is the Chinese arm of Japanese corporation D&X Co. Ltd. In response to The Insider‘s request, the Japanese Ministry of Economy, Industry, and Trade sent a list of banned goods, which shows that the export of silicon wafers (code 381800) to Russia by Japanese companies is not allowed. D&X Co has not responded to The Insider‘s inquiry. The ministry also stated it had been unaware of D&X Co’s shipments to Russia.

AO VZPP Mikron belongs to the group of entities affiliated with the Mikron plant in Zelenograd. The group also includes AO Mikron, OOO Mikron Security Printing, OOO Sitronics Smart Technologies, OOO Element Technologies, and a few dozen more companies. It is impossible to establish the comprehensive structure of ownership for this conglomerate based on open-source tax data, as relevant ownership data for legal entities set up as AO (joint-stock companies) is not available in the public domain. Wikipedia lists OAO RTI as Mikron’s parent organization. In April 2024, it was merged with AO Research and Production Association of Long-Range Radiolocation (Previously known as the RTI Systems Concern). As follows from Wikipedia and the Association of Russian Banks, the majority shareholder of the latter company is AFK Sistema, a conglomerate owned primarily by Vladimir Yevtushenkov, a Russian oligarch who appears on multiple sanctions lists.

• Pai Haung Technology (Taiwan)
• MCL Electronic Materials (China)
• Jiangsu Lewon Software Co., Ltd. (China)
• Shanghai Dongxu Electronic Technology (the Chinese arm of the Japanese corporation D&X Co., Ltd.)

• Kunshan Sino Silicon Technology Co., Ltd. (China, up to 2018)
• MCL Electronic Materials, Ltd. (China)
• MEMC Electronics Materials (USA, up to 2018)
• Elmatech Co., Ltd. (Thailand, up to 2018)
• Globalwafers Co., Ltd. (Taiwan, up to 2019)

To name a few, SMT-Max, Sovtest ATE, Sunrise, and Contract Holding.

Filters used to expose photoresist in certain areas of the wafer.

Microchip manufacturing in a nutshell:

• Photolithography equipment installation
• Integrated circuit design
• Fabrication of photomasks based on the design
• Patterning on wafers with the use of photolithography
• Cutting the semiconductor plate into individual circuits, attaching pins, and packaging.

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Russia has decided to build its own factories for hemodialysis equipment. This comes after the largest U.S. manufacturer ceased shipments to the country. For years, Russian doctors have relied on Western equipment, and now they must adapt to substitutes. This is just one of the problems facing Russian medicine as a result of the country’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. Several major pharmaceutical companies have pulled out of Russia, and the end of international clinical trials poses even more severe risks. Currently, 80% of Russian doctors are dealing with drug shortages and poor-quality medical supplies.

Hemodialysis, a treatment that filters the blood of patients whose kidneys are not working properly, is one of the most complex medical procedures there is. In April 2024, the U.S. pharmaceutical company Baxter, the world’s largest supplier of nephrology equipment, suspended its business in Russia, leaving doctors to get by with unfamiliar — and sometimes obsolete — technology. Soon, they will have to adapt to using Indian devices, which are set to be assembled at two factories in the Kaluga region. Construction of the facilities is scheduled to begin in September of this year.

“All this time, we worked with U.S. or German equipment that we knew well. Hemodialysis requires not only well-trained staff but also equipment that has been tested over the years. Almost no one currently has experience with Indian equipment,” said a Russian nephrologist in conversation with The Insider (the doctor requested anonymity for safety reasons).

No extra competitors

Back in 2015, after Western sanctions were imposed following Russia’s occupation of Crimea and its sponsorship of a hot war in the eastern Ukrainian Donbas region, Russian authorities aimed to substitute imported medical technologies with domestically produced ones. Initially, the plan was to localize the production of medicines and equipment as much as possible. This led to the “third wheel” principle: if two or more Russian manufacturers participate in state procurement, foreign companies are not allowed to bid. In 2021, this rule was tightened even further: now, if a manufacturer from another Eurasian Economic Union (EAEU) country participates in the tender, they automatically win over foreign competitors.

Russian authorities aimed to substitute imported medical technologies with domestically produced ones back in 2015, after the first Western sanctions were imposed

This approach drew serious criticism from Russia’s professional medical community. In February 2020, 160 oncologists and hematologists wrote a collective letter highlighting the side effects of domestic generics replacing original Western drugs. “A horrible thing is that the responsibility lies with the doctor, but the procurement is not handled by the doctor. According to Federal Law No. 44 [on procurement], the cheapest option must be purchased, not necessarily the best quality,” explains surgeon Alexander Vanyukov, the former head of a department at a Moscow city hospital.

Even at that time, there was worry that patients with specific intolerances would soon be unable to receive therapy due to the withdrawal of alternative drugs from the market.

Patients with specific intolerances would be unable to receive therapy due to the withdrawal of all alternative drugs from the market

Then, in the immediate aftermath of the onset of the full-scale war in February 2022, Western pharmaceutical companies began withdrawing from the Russian market one after another. According to a study by the professional community “Doctors.RF,” nearly 80% of Russian doctors have faced drug shortages.

The most common shortages are of antibiotics, insulins, antidepressants, neuroleptics, antiepileptics, and anticonvulsant drugs. In total, there have been reports of shortages of over 400 items, 74 of which are on the list of vital and essential medicines.

More than half of the surveyed doctors reported problems with medical equipment and consumables. Two-thirds of the respondents said that sanctions have affected their work, leading to drug shortages, issues with medical equipment and consumables, and general difficulties in the exchange of scientific knowledge.

Russian insulin

Diabetics were among the first to experience drug shortages. In early June 2024, the Swiss company Swixx BioPharma announced it would stop supplying Humalog insulin to Russia. Tens of thousands of people relied on it daily, with the most vulnerable being type 1 diabetics, most of whom are children. For them, insulin therapy is essential, as they do not produce their own insulin.

Parents are generally hesitant to switch their children to other insulins once compensation has been established. Furthermore, Humalog has a long-standing reputation for reliability, having been approved by the FDA back in 1996.

The Russian manufacturer Geropharm is set to replace Humalog with the biosimilar RinLiz. Geopharm is owned by the family of Peter Rodionov, a former Gazprom executive and Russia’s ex-Minister of Fuel and Energy. The company is gradually becoming a key producer of diabetes drugs in Russia. In 2023, it became the main supplier of insulin in the government sector.

Patients are concerned. Maria, a Moscow mother of a child with type 1 diabetes, shares her worries with The Insider: “The transition to Geropharm biosimilars is frightening. There are many negative reviews in the community. Some people have seen some success with biosimilars, but imagine being a parent who has to test an alternative on their own child. What if it doesn’t work? What then?”

Globally, biosimilars are used in order to lower costs after a drug’s patent expires. However, the main concern is their quality. Unlike generics — drugs with an active ingredient identical to the patented original — biosimilars are not exact replicas. While generics are chemically identical to their originals, biosimilars cannot achieve the same level of similarity due to the complexities of biotechnological products.

Patients active in diabetes support forums are already expressing concerns about side effects:

“I visited the endocrinologist yesterday to report an adverse reaction to RinLiz. I’ve been experiencing red spots on my body and ineffective insulin — it’s like injecting water with no effect.”

“Good afternoon. Can someone advise how to handle the situation where we’re being prescribed RinLiz, but my daughter has an intolerance? She immediately develops lumps and inflammation.”

“Rinfast is terrible. My blood sugar fluctuates unpredictably. I’ve used Actrapid, Novorapid, and now FiAsp. With the same dose, food, and activity, my blood sugar was stable (within a range of no more than 1 unit) with those after 2 hours. But with Rinfast, it either spikes, causes hypoglycemia, or is normal.”

There is no data available on comprehensive clinical trials for the Russian drug. According to Geropharm, the biological similarity between RinLiz and Humalog was demonstrated, but the trial involved only 28 healthy adult volunteers — i.e. people without diabetes.

Furthermore, there is no information about whether any patients with type 1 diabetes or any children participated in the studies, which aim to confirm that the antibody levels produced by a biosimilar are comparable to those produced by the original insulin. As such, the drug’s immunogenicity (its potential to provoke an immune response) remains unclear.

The Insider submitted an official inquiry to Geropharm but did not receive a response.

Some patients have begun importing the withdrawn Humalog from Germany through “gray” market channels, paying 15,000 rubles ($170) for a pack of five insulin pens. For comparison, before the company exited the Russian market, such a package cost only 1,800 rubles in a typical Russian pharmacy.

There are also supply issues with other insulins. In March 2024, ultra-fast insulin FiAsp from Danish company Novo Nordisk disappeared from pharmacies and state procurement lists. According to Kommersant, state procurements of this drug fell by 95% in the first quarter of 2024.

Meanwhile, Geropharm is rapidly expanding its share in a market that was previously dominated by foreign companies. The Russian firm has secured a compulsory license to produce analogs of Novo Nordisk’s Ozempic, a drug protected by a patent in Russia until 2035. This license allows Geropharm to manufacture the drug without Novo Nordisk’s permission.

Geropharm is also targeting diabetes medications from the French manufacturer Sanofi. The Russian company has already filed a lawsuit to obtain the license for Toujeo (insulin glargine, a long-acting insulin that provides basal glycemic control for 24 hours with a single injection).

Experts note that the Russian pharmaceutical market is currently 90% dependent on foreign pharmaceutical substances, and rare and expensive drugs can still be imported in limited quantities despite sanctions. “Since the drugs are still needed, especially for the ‘elite’ children, they will most likely be imported by the likes of the Circle of Kindness or the black market,” Alexander Vanyukov, the Moscow surgeon, suggests.

Medical equipment: made in China

Like other sectors of the Russian economy, healthcare is increasingly dominated by Chinese manufacturers. Not only pharmaceutical substances, but also medical electronics, are now being sourced from China. However, there are concerns among specialists and patients about the quality of these products.

Healthcare is increasingly dominated by Chinese manufacturers

Chinese companies have become major suppliers of continuous glucose monitoring (CGM) devices in many Russian regions. CGMs are crucial for monitoring blood sugar levels and preventing hypoglycemic comas in patients with type 1 diabetes.

Previously, this market segment was largely occupied by the FreeStyle Libre, made by the U.S. company Abbott. According to the analytical firm Headway, Abbott held an 89% share of the Russian market in 2022–2023. Then Chinese continuous glucose monitors (CGMs), such as Dr. Brinner, began to replace American models. However, quality concerns have sparked numerous complaints from patients. Here is a typical review of these products on social media:

“Dr. Brinner RGMS-II monitoring is not monitoring; it’s a torture device! Three iron nails in the child’s hand cause immense discomfort and pain; these nails are not flexible!!!! People with diabetes heal wounds more slowly than healthy individuals. Instead of one puncture, which already takes a long time to heal, there will now be three.”

In some regions, such as St. Petersburg and Novosibirsk, patients are filing complaints with health departments in large numbers or are refusing to use these medical devices altogether.

Doctors share the concerns of these frightened patients. “I don’t even want to use it myself, because I’ve seen inflammation from these three punctures. I feel sorry for my arm,” says an endocrinologist from a Moscow clinic in a conversation with The Insider.

In addition to inflammatory reactions, Chinese sensors face significant issues with accuracy. For people with type 1 diabetes, this is a critical issue, as insulin doses are based on the data provided, and precise calculation is essential. “I reviewed these Chinese and Korean monitors, and some of them don’t even list the MARD index [a measure of the accuracy of glucose monitoring],” says the doctor.

Resuscitation specialists have also encountered problems with Chinese products. The use of such supplies adds extra risk for patients, according to an anesthesiologist-resuscitator from Astrakhan (who asked to remain anonymous for safety reasons):

“Catheters for peripheral vessels have broken several times, leaving the end of the catheter in the patient’s vein. We had to retrieve the remnants with the help of vascular surgeons. We also work with implantable intravenous port systems, and the Chinese set is practically impossible to install. It’s like a toy; it bends and falls apart in your hands.”

The quality of disposable supplies impacts the performance of ventilators: “Chinese contours did not fit the diameter; they were larger, resulting in a lack of airtightness.”

In addition to disposables, anesthesiologists have also started using Chinese drugs for anesthesia induction. “The propofol we’re used to, made from Chinese raw materials, requires double the dosage. Otherwise, it has no effect,” says a doctor.

However, not all Chinese products are the same, says surgeon Alexander Vanyukov: “There is high-quality Chinese equipment, but you don’t have the option to choose because the cheapest products are purchased. This issue isn’t even about the war or sanctions — it’s that the state procurement system was initially set up incorrectly.”

No international research

Previously, foreign companies conducted the second and third phases of clinical trials in Russia, which assessed the most effective drug dosages and administration methods. These trials tested cutting-edge medicines for treating severe diseases. Such research is crucial for introducing new drugs to the market. For many patients, participating in these trials was the only way to access innovative treatments.

The suspension of international clinical trials could have significant long-term effects on Russian medicine. Data from the Association of Clinical Research Organizations (ACRO), which includes major global pharmaceutical companies like Novo Nordisk, Pfizer, Bayer, and Novartis, shows that the number of clinical trials in Russia has dropped by 95% over the past three years.

Clinical trials are crucial for introducing new drugs to the Russian market

According to the association’s report, only 18 studies were conducted in 2023, compared to 367 in 2021 — the year before the start of the full-scale war. However, there has been an increase in trials for generics and biosimilars. The main countries whose companies continue to conduct research in Russia are India (44%) and Belarus (26%).

As ACRO admits, “We have watched in real-time as everything that was so painstakingly built in Russia over the previous years — starting from the late 1990s — has collapsed. This was an industry of high-standard international clinical research. Two years ago, all hopes for further development of international multicenter clinical trials in the country vanished overnight.”

Additionally, on July 5, the Russian Ministry of Health canceled domestic Good Clinical Practice (GCP) regulations, with the order set to take effect on September 1, 2024. GCP is an international ethical and scientific standard for designing and conducting research. It ensures that the rights, safety, and well-being of research participants are protected in line with the principles of the World Medical Association’s Declaration of Helsinki, and it safeguards the reliability of clinical research data.

However, Vanyukov believes that, at this point, the cancellation of GCP regulations will have minimal impact: “They can’t make it worse. International trials are halted, but [Russian interests] will be able to conduct their own trials — on military personnel or prisoners, for example.”

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A significant portion of Russian military recruits are men overwhelmed by microloan debt. They sign up for front line duty to settle their financial obligations. Meanwhile, The Insider has discovered that the main beneficiary of Russia’s largest microfinance organization resides in Europe and oversees operations from abroad. The initial investment capital for the scheme likely came from his father, who is still wanted for his role in a high-profile real estate misappropriation involving a classmate of Vladimir Putin’s in — a case once dubbed by journalists as the “scam of the century.” Putin’s ex-wife, who owns property in Spain, is also implicated in the microcredit business. As the Russian government sounds alarms over the growing consumer lending bubble, the microfinance organization co-owned by Lyudmila Putina-Ocheretnaya saw its profits surge by 66% in a year.

Sergei Ezhov

Investigative reporter, The Insider

Putin’s classmate and the theft of cultural heritage

Many of Vladimir Putin’s classmates have gone on to have remarkably successful careers. Alexander Bastrykin heads the Investigative Committee, while Irina Podnosova is the Chairman of the Supreme Court. Viktor Khmarin does not hold high positions himself, but his son leads the state company “RusHydro.” Businessmen Nikolai Egorov and Ilgam Ragimov have been richly rewarded for heling ensure the luxurious life of Putin’s family.

Another classmate of Putin’s, Anatoly Shesteryuk, also received an influential position but lost it due to a corruption scandal. Shesteryuk, who graduated from Leningrad University in 1975 alongside the future president, now leads a more modest life as a professor at the Department of Environmental and Land Law at Moscow State University.

Shesteryuk resides in the White Swan residential complex near his workplace. His 204-square-meter apartment there is valued at around 150 million rubles ($1.7 million), and he spends much of his free time at a suburban dacha in the Novaya Opaliha gated community. Once, as the head of the Territorial Department of Rosimushchestvo in Moscow, Shesteryuk was in charge of all the capital’s real estate and had access to properties designated as historical monuments of architecture.

When Putin was elected for his third presidential term in 2012, Shesteryuk almost ended up in prison. He was detained by operatives from the Main Directorate for Economic Security and Anti-Corruption of the Ministry of Internal Affairs of Russia and the Anti-Corruption Directorate “K” of the FSB’s Economic Security Service. Charged with fraud, he was initially held in a pre-trial detention center but was later released on his own recognizance.

In time, the criminal case against Shesteryuk, dubbed the “scam of the century” by the press, gradually lost momentum and eventually fizzled out, but at one point it appeared to have the potential to become one of the most high-profile cases in recent Russian history.

In brief, the scheme involving state property theft revolved around Shesteryuk transferring state-owned buildings in Moscow to specific Federal State Unitary Enterprises controlled by a criminal group. These enterprises acted as guarantors for fictitious loans that various LLCs took out from a bank that was in cahoots with the fraudsters. The real estate was then sold off to private buyers at bargain prices.

As a result, more than 100 properties were at risk of being sold off, many of which were listed as federal cultural objects, according to Kommersant. Among them were 28 architectural monuments in central Moscow, including the 19th-century Rogozhskaya Yamskaya Sloboda ensemble, the Dolgorukov house from the mid-18th century, and the Snegirev estate from the early 19th century. Additionally, the Federal State Unitary Enterprises owned assets such as a printing complex from 1936 and the Church of the Holy Supreme Apostles Peter and Paul in Yasenevo.

Several historical mansions were stolen by Putin’s classmate and his accomplices, with investigators estimating the state’s losses at over 2 billion rubles ($23 million). However, Shesteryuk escaped accountability; instead of being accused, Putin’s classmate was positioned as a witness. He claimed he had been misled by his own assistant and was merely “honestly mistaken,” effectively shifting blame onto minor and inconsequential figures.

Supposedly, the mastermind behind the entire scheme was businessman Alexander Dunaev, who fled from the investigation and remains a fugitive.

Dunaev has a son, also named Alexander, who was educated in the UK at the University of Warwick and King’s College London. In 2012, amidst the unfolding scandal surrounding the “scam of the century” orchestrated by his father, Dunaev Jr. founded Russia’s first online microfinance organization, MoneyMan. MoneyMan, part of the larger IDF Eurasia group of brands offering Russians “financial technologies in the field of lending,” ranks among the leaders of the country’s microloan industry.

Microcredit bondage

In addition to MoneyMan, the IDF Eurasia group also owns the online loan platform Platiza, along with its own debt collection agency. Dunaev holds the largest stake in the group. By the end of 2023, MoneyMan had issued nearly 46 billion rubles in loans, marking an 18% increase from the previous year. The IDF group reported a net profit exceeding 4 billion rubles ($45.4 million). While formally legal, this business exploits the financial distress of millions of Russians by offering loans at excessively high interest rates, ultimately pushing them toward financial ruin.

The widespread entrapment of Russians in microloan debt has made recruitment efforts by the country’s Ministry of Defense significantly easier. Many men, like 28-year-old Alexey Zhuravlev from Chuvashia, sign up to repay their debts. Zhuravlev, who previously worked in construction and accumulated debts totaling 260,000 rubles ($2.950), was unable to secure new microloans. Consequently, he enlisted in the military for service in Russia’s “Special Military Operation.” During a drunken altercation with fellow soldiers, Zhuravlev fired a machine gun, resulting in casualties.

Authorities are actively encouraging debtors to enlist in the military, with bailiffs almost acting as recruiters. Earlier this month, a Tatarstan news site told the story of a local man who successfully discharged microloan debts of nearly half a million rubles ($5,700) by signing up with the Ministry of Defense. However, not everyone is as fortunate, and many Russian soldiers sent to the front lines in Ukraine carry their debts to their graves.

Meanwhile, the main beneficiary of Russia’s largest microfinance organization resides in Europe: Alexander Dunaev owns upscale real estate in Barcelona. According to information from the Spanish real estate registry obtained by The Insider, Dunaev and his wife possess a 161-square-meter apartment and a 536-square-meter villa purchased last year. The combined value of their properties in Barcelona totals approximately 4 million euros.

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Furthermore, Dunaev oversees his microfinance operations from Spain. Several of his companies, including ID Finance Investments, are registered there.

Another Spanish real estate enthusiast — Putin’s ex-wife Lyudmila Ocheretnaya — also profits from the microfinance industry. The earnings of CarMoney, a company in which Ocheretnaya holds shares, surged by 66% over the past year. Ocheretnaya also owns two luxury apartments in Malaga.

While ordinary Russians’ debts to microfinance operations reach record highs, all but ensuring that the pipeline of “volunteer” soldiers keeps pace with Russia’s staggering losses on the battlefield, the well-connected beneficiaries of these enterprises continue to enjoy the sunny climate — and the institutional rule of law — in Western countries like Spain. Meanwhile, the Russian government appears to have no intention of regulating the practices of microfinance organizations that exacerbate Russians’ economic vulnerabilities, even as their beneficiaries continue to spend their profits in the supposedly decadent West.

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Over the last few months, the joint efforts of Russian law enforcement agencies and ultra-right bullies have resulted in the closure of LGBTQ+ friendly clubs all over Russia. The most infamous episode of this campaign was the March raid on Orenburg’s LGBT club Pose, which was followed by Russia’s first criminal case against LGBTQ+ community members on the charges of “organizing an extremist group.” The club owner and two employees were arrested and placed in custody. As The Insider’s correspondent found out, not only former Pose patrons, but also representatives of visually distinctive subcultures such as the anime fandom, no longer feel safe in Orenburg. Even worse, they are afraid to go to the police, as recent Russian legislation has made them outlaws. It is a situation similar to Soviet times, when anyone whose fashion choices veered from the “norm” could find themselves in trouble with the authorities.

“I cannot overcome a sense of intense paranoia”

Repression against Russia’s LGBTQ+ community intensified with the full-scale invasion of Ukraine. Late 2022 saw a tightening of the Russian law banning the propaganda of so-called “non-traditional sexual relations,” and in early 2023, the law began to be widely enforced. A ban on gender transition followed in July 2023, and in late 2023 Russia’s Supreme Court labeled the non-existent “international LGBT movement” as an extremist group. The new legislation triggered a wave of raids on LGBTQ+ establishments all over Russia.

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Russia is preparing a bill to ban the “childfree ideology.” At the St. Petersburg International Legal Forum in June, Russian Deputy Minister of Justice Vsevolod Vukolov, one of the project’s authors, described the conscious decision not to have children as “extremist-oriented.” This followed from the messaging in Vladimir Putin’s latest May decree, which included an increased birth rate among Russia’s “national development goals.” The stated aim is to raise the average number of children per woman from the current 1.41 to 1.6 by 2030 and to 1.8 by 2036. Of course, the issue of a low total fertility rate (TFR) is not unique to Russia. By 2050, only 49 countries are expected to have a TFR sufficient for population replacement, and there is not a single country in the world where the 2021 birth rate had not fallen below its 1950 figure. Decrees alone will not solve this problem, and modern research indicates that not even drastic state measures, such as banning contraception and abortions, can reverse the trend.

Demographic alarmism

Like the issues of global warming and the depletion of fossil fuel reserves, the worldwide decline in birth rates is often a subject of alarmist discussions. Not all that long ago, the opposite was true: the overpopulation of the planet, which 18th century English demographer and economist Thomas Malthus predicted would imminently lead to universal famine, gave way to two centuries of apocalyptic “Malthusian” expectations. These peaked in the 1960s and 1970s, when the world’s population was indeed growing at an alarming rate. At the time, scientists themselves recognized the issue and provided a mathematical basis for the alarm. In 1960, Austrian physicist and mathematician Heinz von Foerster and his colleagues published an article in Science with the provocative title, “Doomsday: Friday, 13 November, A.D. 2026. At this date human population will approach infinity if it grows as it has grown in the last two millennia.”

“Doomsday: Friday, 13 November, A.D. 2026. At this date human population will approach infinity if it grows as it has grown in the last two millennia”

In the article, the scientific authorities demonstrated that the growth of Earth’s population from the Roman Empire to 1958 could be accurately described by a hyperbolic model. Unlike exponential population growth, in which the growth rate is proportional to the population, hyperbolic growth means the rate is proportional to the square of the population. This results in slow initial growth that rapidly accelerates towards infinity. If this trend had continued, the Earth’s population would indeed have become infinite by 2026.

However, scientists understood that this was merely an interesting mathematical exercise, not a serious prediction. It was impossible under any circumstances, primarily because there is a biological limit to the rate of reproduction for any living organisms — humans included. But despite the clearly unrealistic nature of such forecasts, alarmist interpretations of these scientific publications and expectations of a Malthusian apocalypse persisted.

In fact, the hyperbolic growth identified by von Foerster ceased around the time it was discovered. The peak population growth rate of 2.3% per year was reached in 1963. After several years of fluctuating around this level, the growth rate began to decline. Today, it stands at approximately 0.9% per year.

The peak population growth rate of 2.3% per year was reached in 1963. Today it stands at approximately 0.9% per year

Modern demographic models are more reliable than climate models. Based on forecasts that have already materialized, they have been shown to accurately predict future trends. According to these models, population growth will cross the zero mark in the 2080s. After peaking at 10.4 billion, the global population will stop growing and will begin to slowly decline by the end of this century. What happens after 2100 remains uncertain.

At this point, we enter a demographic “terra incognita,” where current patterns cannot be reliably extrapolated. By the end of the century, most societies will have reached a stage of demographic development that only a few developed countries have so far experienced: low mortality, high life expectancy, a high proportion of elderly people, and low birth rates. Scientists therefore still lack sufficient data to understand the general behavior patterns of societies at this advanced stage of demographic development.

But no matter how successful science becomes or how accurate forecasts prove to be, demographic alarmism remains persistent, even if its focus has shifted. During Heinz von Foerster’s time, the fear was overpopulation; today, it is depopulation. On March 20, 2024, the prestigious scientific journal The Lancet published the results of a comprehensive analysis of fertility data from 204 countries between 1950 and 2021, extending the forecast to 2100.

The findings of this study reaffirm what has become increasingly evident: fertility rates are declining worldwide. In every country across the globe, fertility rates have decreased across the period in question. This decline has occurred even in regions like Singapore, where the authorities have made significant efforts to reverse it. And yet, despite strong stimulation efforts since the mid-1980s, fertility saw only slight, temporary growth before continuing to decline.

In every country across the globe, fertility rates decreased between 1950 and 2021.

Why is the fertility rate declining?

Of course, regional and country specific difference of degree are visible in the overall trend. In the “economic tigers” of Southeast Asia — South Korea, Singapore, Hong Kong, Taiwan — fertility has declined rapidly and significantly, plummeting from 4.5-6.8 to 0.9-1.1 over the span of 70 years, leaving it well below the replacement threshold conventionally set at 2.1.

In affluent European nations such as France, the United Kingdom, and Sweden — where fertility was already low in 1950 — there has been a less pronounced decrease: from 2.2-2.8 to 1.5-1.8. Eastern European countries like Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, and Lithuania have experienced a slightly sharper decline, with fertility dropping from 2.4-3.0 to 1.1-1.5. And in more economically disadvantaged African countries — Niger, Chad, and Mali — the decline has been minimal: from 7.3-7.6 to 6.2-7.0.

Globally, fertility rates fell from 4.8 to 2.2. While in 1950 fertility was above the reproduction level (2.1) almost everywhere, by 2021 only 46% of the world’s countries (94 out of 204) were still above this threshold. Half of these are sub-Saharan African states.

By 2050, the average global fertility rate is projected to decline to 1.8, leaving only 49 countries (24%) with fertility rates above the 2.1 replacement level. Looking ahead to 2100, these numbers are expected to further decrease — to 1.6 and 6 countries (2.9%), respectively. Although forcasts on such a time horizon are less reliable, the six states expected to be the last to join the sub-replacement group are Somalia, Niger, Chad, Tajikistan, and the two small island states Tonga and Samoa.

By 2100, Somalia, Niger, Chad, Tajikistan, Tonga, and Samoa are expectedto be the remaining countries capable of sustaining their population size

The decline in fertility is an inevitable feature of a specific phase known as the “demographic transition.” Every country experiences this transition at varying times and speeds.

In pre-industrial societies, high fertility rates — typically around 6-8 children per woman — coupled with high mortality, low life expectancy, poverty, and widespread illiteracy, characterized life for the majority of the population. Humanity endured in such a state of scarcity throughout much of its history. Periodically, technological or cultural advancements emerged, enabling increased food production. However, improvements in living standards were minimal as these gains were primarily directed towards sustaining growing populations rather than enhancing their quality of life.

Throughout much of human history, advancements and innovations primarily served to facilitate population growth rather than to improve living standards

The population grew slowly alongside the gradual development of technologies that expanded the Earth’s “carrying capacity,” enabling more people to be sustained at the same old minimal levels of material prosperity. This societal state, in which sluggish population growth consumed all the benefits of innovations, leaving people impoverished, undernourished, and lacking education, is known as the “Malthusian trap.” At one time, it appeared to be the only conceivable scenario for our existence.

This was Thomas Malthus’s view when he articulated it in the late 18th century. Malthus believed that poverty was inevitable due to the fact that any improvements in living conditions prompted accelerated reproduction and/or reduced mortality rates among the population. This, in turn, led to further population growth, causing conditions to deteriorate once more. As a result, society remained entrenched in poverty and ignorance, even as technological progress advanced (albeit at a pace that appears decidedly sluggish when measured against today’s rate of development).

Karl Lemokh, “New Acquaintance,” 1885

Women’s education vs reproduction

Then humanity discovered a way to escape the Malthusian trap. Like von Foerster, Malthus accurately described a longstanding demographic development just as it was coming to an end. First in England at the end of the 17th century, and subsequently in other Western European countries during the 18th century, growth in production began to ever so slightly outpace population growth. This marked the onset of the Industrial Revolution, in which an industrial society’s median standard of living, after prolonged stagnation, abruptly began to rise. Positive feedback loops were activated, sustaining this upward trajectory. Literacy rates increased, scientific and technological advancements accelerated, further boosting production and living standards. Even though people continued to reproduce vigorously (in line with Malthus’s theory), their efforts could no longer match the pace of economic growth, allowing progress to advance at an accelerating rate.

The solution to issues like hunger, state-sponsored welfare for the vulnerable, and advancements in hygiene and medicine naturally led to a significant decline in mortality rates, including infant and child mortality. This marked the beginning of a demographic boom: mortality had plummeted to unprecedentedly low levels, while fertility remained at the typical “pre-industrial” rate of 5-7 children per woman. Countries entering this phase of demographic transition experienced rapid population growth.

Today, nearly all countries, even the least economically developed ones, have reached this demographic stage. Unlike in the past, doing so does not require a domestic industrial revolution or the extensive development of education and science. Instead, simply cooperating with wealthy nations to ensure the adequate supply of food, medicines, and essential goods, along with support in establishing healthcare systems, leads to a sharp decline in mortality and a subsequent population growth.

However, population growth cannot continue indefinitely. While the timing varies by country, after a decline in mortality rates, a decrease in fertility inevitably follows. Numerous studies have highlighted that one of the most influential factors in this development is women’s education. This is evident from cross-cultural comparisons demonstrating that the level of female literacy consistently emerges as one of the strongest predictors of fertility rates in a country.

Women’s education stands is a critical factor contributing to the decline in fertility rates

In addition, comparative studies within populations consistently show that educated women tend to have fewer children. This conclusion is reinforced by specialized studies aimed at establishing causal relationships rather than observing mere correlations. In controlled settings, multiple studies have demonstrated that women’s education directly influences lower fertility rates — not the other way around.

This makes sense, as education provides women with life opportunities that are easier to pursue when not constrained by all consuming amounts of children. Traditionally, having a large family might have conferred a certain social status on the mother, but for a woman aspiring to the career of doctor, engineer, banker, or diplomat, it does not. Moreover, educated women typically adopt a more take-control approach to planning their lives and ensuring the health and well-being of their current and future children. These factors collectively reduce the desire among educated women to have larger families.

Other significant factors include the availability of contraceptives and the diminishing economic benefits of childbearing. In agrarian societies, children are often considered capital, whereas in industrialized societies, they are viewed more as expenses. With drastically reduced mortality rates, societal values have shifted towards placing higher importance on human life and the responsibility of parents towards their children. As a society becomes more prosperous, a cultural shift often occurs by which it becomes less fashionable and prestigious to have large families. As a result, more people are delaying parenthood to pursue careers in order to ensure that the children they do bring into the world are provided with decent living conditions.

Rally for the legalization of abortion. New York (USA), 1977.

Peter Keegan/Keystone/Getty Images

Advanced Western countries entered this phase of demographic transition in the early 20th century, and now most of the world is following suit. This global trend explains the decline in fertility rates. Even in the least developed countries, average living standards are higher than they were just a few decades ago, and signs of this global trend are becoming apparent there as well.

But regardless of a society’s achievements in prolonging life or reducing mortality rates, once fertility drops below replacement level, the native born population begins to decline.

The process is irreversible

According to the Russian federal state statistics service Rosstat, in 2023 Russia’s total fertility rate dropped to 1.41. Recently, Vladimir Putin issued directives aiming to raise the TFR to 1.6 by 2030 and 1.8 by 2036. This goal is relatively modest: Putin’s plan does not even target returning the population to the replacement threshold. But is it achievable?

In theory, yes. Putin’s plan, in terms of both scale and timeline, falls within the realm of minor and largely random fluctuations observed in individual countries undergoing a broader, long-term decline in fertility rates. The chances of effecting a successful increase in TFR could improve with a well-coordinated set of measures to encourage childbearing. However, even if the target is met, it will halt Russia’s population decline.

Based on the unsuccessful attempts of other countries, it appears humanity has yet to discover a reliable means of reversing declining fertility rates. Measures that may seem straightforward to policymakers and social workers — such as comprehensive support for families with children, promoting childbearing, assisting economically disadvantaged groups, facilitating educational access for children from large families, and so on — typically yield nothing more than modest, short-term effects.

Extreme measures such as a complete ban on contraception and abortions, or even the imposition of religious laws promoting childbearing, have proven ineffective. While such measures may occasionally yield results within small religious communities or cults, they have generally failed on the scale of larger states.

While radical measures to increase fertility may yield results within small religious communities or cults, they have generally failed on the scale of larger states

Even in Iran, fertility has plummeted from 6.2 to 1.5 over the 1950-2021 period, with the sharpest decline occurring after the onset of the 1979 Islamic Revolution. A similar trend is observed in Saudi Arabia and other predominantly Muslim countries. North Korea has also been unable to avoid this global trend: over the period in question, fertility there declined from 5.4 to 1.5 children per woman.

The case of Afghanistan is noteworthy. The Taliban government, which came back to power in 2021, is attempting to enforce a complete ban on women’s education. Such a step could theoretically increase fertility, particularly since TFR in the country was already above four children per woman and women’s education levels were extremely low even before the Taliban’s return. However, thus far there has been no visible effect. Instead, fertility in Afghanistan continues to decrease and currently stands at around 3.75. It is likely that for such measures to have an impact, a generation of marginalized, uneducated women would need to grow up. Hopefully, these extremist policies will not endure for that long.

Afghan family, 2021.

DFID – UK Department for International Development

Perhaps these extreme methods fail because even the most anti-human regimes and fanatical dictators cannot reverse societal progress to the extent that educated city dwellers are transformed into illiterate peasants. Pol Pot attempted such a policy in Cambodia but did not achieve complete success: fertility there declined from 6.6 to 2.6 children per woman over 70 years, a change not significantly different from that in Laos and Myanmar. In contrast, Thailand, Malaysia, and Vietnam have experienced even sharper declines, from 6.7-6.9 to 1.3-2.1 children per woman.

Generally, the better life becomes in a country, the more rapidly fertility declines. Conversely, in countries with lower standards of living, fertility decreases more slowly. Of course, intriguing exceptions do exist. In Israel, fertility remains relatively high and its decline is notably gradual given the country’s high overall quality of life. Clearly however, such outliers are neither large nor numerous enough to meaningfully alter the overall pattern.

The better life becomes in a country, the more rapidly fertility declines

Demographic modeling indicates that the prospects of significantly slowing down the decline in fertility are scarce. For instance, the aforementioned article in The Lancet outlines four alternative scenarios. The baseline model assumes societies will progress along their current trajectories. According to this model, by 2050 the global average fertility rate will be 1.83, decreasing to 1.59 by 2100.

The first alternative scenario envisions the ambitious implementation of UN plans for global education development, including in the poorest and most underdeveloped regions. This would likely accelerate the decline in fertility, yielding a TFR of 1.65 in 2050 and 1.56 in 2100.

A second scenario imagines universal access to contraceptives for all who desire them worldwide (though this remains a distant aspiration unlikely to materialize fully). Under this scenario, fertility rates could drop to 1.64 in 2050 and 1.52 in 2100.

If societies around the globe were to maximize support for families with children and create optimal conditions for reproduction, the projections suggest fertility rates might rise to around 1.93 and 1.68, respectively — still significantly below the replacement level.

In short, it appears increasingly unlikely that the global decline in fertility can be halted, regardless of whether action is attempted at a global scale or within individual countries. International organizations like the UN or WHO, democracies, theocracies, and authoritarian regimes alike are all unlikely to effectively address this challenge. The trajectory of declining fertility seems inevitable, with adjustments in its pace possible only within a narrow margin.

It appears unlikely that the global decline in fertility can be halted, whether at a global scale or within individual countries

Dangerous tensions

The implications of the global decline in birth rates raise significant questions about future societal changes. Population aging presents a formidable challenge. The increasing proportion of elderly people will place greater strain on healthcare systems and on the working-age population, who will bear the responsibility of supporting a larger number of retirees.

Nevertheless, there are factors that may mitigate these challenges. Advances in medicine and overall improvements in living conditions not only extend life expectancy but also enhance the health span of elderly people, who can remain active contributors to society far longer than their parents and grandparents were able to. Additionally, the decline in the proportion of resources allocated to children will partially offset the increase in elderly dependents. Moreover, ongoing technological advancements are expected to reduce the economy’s reliance on human labor.

The most significant demographic shifts will occur due to the uneven decline in birth rates across different countries. In prosperous Western nations, population growth has ceased, and in some cases, populations are even shrinking. In Asia, where rapid population growth characterized the latter half of the 20th century, growth rates are now slowing and will begin to decline by the second half of this century.

On this background, sub-Saharan Africa stands out as the only region projected to continue experiencing population growth until 2100. Nearly all global population growth by the century’s end is expected to originate from Africa (excluding North Africa, which follows a demographic trajectory more akin to the Middle East). By 2100, every second newborn globally is anticipated to be of African descent, a notable increase from the current ratio of one in four.

By 2100, every second newborn globally is anticipated to be of African descent, a notable increase from the current ratio of one in four

As a result, by 2100, our descendants will inhabit a world with a population approaching 10.4 billion people, distributed as follows: approximately 4.69 billion in Asia, 3.91 billion in Africa, 0.67 billion in North America, 0.59 billion in Europe, and 0.43 billion in South America. To put this in perspective, current population figures stand at approximately: Asia – 4.78 billion, Africa – 1.49 billion, North America – 0.61 billion, Europe – 0.74 billion, South America – 0.44 billion.

Given the anticipated economic growth and the prospect for socio-cultural advances in less developed regions, these shifting demographic proportions will likely enhance their influence across various domains: economic, cultural, scientific, and military. This transformation could be further accelerated by substantial migration flows from high-birth-rate, poorer countries to low-birth-rate, wealthier ones, where population growth rates have already fallen below replacement levels.

It is here that the question arises: will modern “Western” ideals such as freedom and democracy, gender and other equalities, concern for environmental issues, and belief in the power of science manage to capture the minds of those societies that will dominate global population statistics in 50-100 years? Until recently, the export of Western ideals seemed to spread around the world along with smartphones, McDonald’s, and rising prosperity. This process was fueled by the universal recognition that Western countries are the “most advanced,” but whether this trend is also irreversible remains a matter of debate.

Demographic trends are indeed steering the world towards significant transformations. However, the issue lies not just in the global decline in birth rates or the eventual end of population growth (an eventuality that remains some 60 or so years in the future). The primary challenges will stem from the starkly uneven distribution of this decline across countries and regions — particularly the higher birth rates expected in less developed regions, where quality of life remains relatively lower. Overpopulation in these disadvantaged stretches of the globe, juxtaposed with relative underpopulation in wealthy and prosperous areas, could lead to social tensions that may continue to intensify until the end of the century. Nevertheless, it is crucial to recognize that this disparity is temporary: by 2100, no region in the world is expected to sustain high birth rates. What happens then is beyond the predictive power of the models.

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NASA’s ongoing flight tests of the Boeing Starliner manned spacecraft mark another milestone in its journey towards independence from Russian Soyuz services. Not long ago, the U.S. and Russia were inextricably linked in their space exploration efforts. However, following Russia’s 2014 annexation of Crimea, NASA embarked on a deliberate path to phase out its dependence on Roscosmos technologies. The sole remaining point of cooperation is the International Space Station (ISS), which relies on a Russian module for control. Yet even this collaboration has come into question. The U.S., despite public statements to the contrary, appears to be contemplating an end to the program. The potential loss of the US market threatens not only Roscosmos’s revenue streams, but also its capacity for future project development.

While both the Soviet and American space programs have their roots in German World War II technology, up until the 1990s they developed independently. Despite occasional collaborations like the Apollo-Soyuz and Energia-Buran projects, each nation maintained its autonomy. It wasn’t until the end of the Cold War, amidst political shifts and a crisis in post-Soviet space exploration, that significant technological exchange and cooperation began.

1991-2014: A period of mutual dependence

The collapse of the USSR plunged post-Soviet space programs into a financial crisis, forcing them to share their innovations with countries outside the former bloc just to meet basic needs and support industry personnel. Russia began selling off space artifacts, including the Lunokhod-2 moon rover, and the Topaz spacecraft’s nuclear reactor, and the spacesuit worn by cosmonaut Alexei Leonov during his historic spacewalk in 1965. These sales raised concerns in the U.S. about the potential for more lucrative Russian rocket technology to find its way to unfriendly nuclear-capable nations.

NPO Lavochkin auctioned the Lunokhod-2 in 1993 at Sotheby’s for $68,500 to American millionaire Richard Garriott

By the mid-1990s, the U.S. recognized that actively supporting Russian space efforts was preferable to entrusting its survival to market forces. Many Soviet projects and technologies revealed through the subsequent cooperation proved to be revelations for American experts.

This realization coincided with a crisis in American rocket development. The Space Shuttle program, intended as the sole means of space launch, proved cost-ineffective. It couldn’t facilitate extended manned space flights, and the U.S. had lacked its own space station since the 1970s. The burgeoning commercial space launch market relied heavily on the European Ariane IV rocket.

Russia inherited a wealth of advanced space technologies from the Soviet era, including rockets, spacecraft, space stations, long-duration manned flight expertise, and rocket engine manufacturing capabilities.

The Soviet space technologies proved highly competitive in the Western market

The demand for Soviet-era developments led to the creation of joint Russian-American and Russian-European ventures, introducing Russian space technologies to global markets, where they proved highly competitive. NASA funded the completion and upgrade of Russia’s Mir space station and commissioned the Zarya module, the first component of the future ISS, from Russian manufacturers.

By the early 2000s, Russian Proton, Soyuz, and Rokot rockets, along with Russian-Ukrainian Dnepr and Zenit vehicles, were launching American and European satellites. Russian institutes began participating in international space research projects, while foreign scientific organizations placed payloads on Russian spacecraft. American funding for the Mir and ISS programs effectively saved Russia’s manned space program, but it was Russia’s capacity to contribute to the development of Western space exploration that allowed these programs to succeed.

American funding for the Mir and ISS programs effectively saved Russia’s manned space program

Meanwhile, in the U.S, a competition was launched to develop rockets that were more economical than the Shuttle. Interestingly, one of the two winning designs, the Atlas V, utilized Russian RD-180 engines for its first stage. Later, the Antares rocket, designed to ferry cargo to the ISS, initially used Soviet NK-33 engines sourced from Russia (following a 2014 accident, Antares switched to Russian RD-181 engines).

Throughout the 2000s, the growing interdependence in space exploration activities seemed unproblematic, and cooperation expanded. In 2012 the U.S. even repealed the Jackson-Vanik amendment, a Cold War-era trade restriction that had remained in place — albeit without directly impacting space collaboration. However, early signs of future political tension emerged with the American passage of “Magnitsky Act” sanctions against Russian officials involved in abuses of human rights. The move was followed by Russia’s retaliatory “Dima Yakovlev Law,” which prevented American parents from adopting Russian orphans. The relationship deteriorated rapidly in 2014 following Russia’s annexation of Crimea and the downing of Malaysia Airlines Flight 17 over the Donbas by a Soviet-era surface-to-air missile fired from Russian BUK air defense system number 332.

2014-2022: A Cooling of Relations

In response to Russia’s annexation of Crimea, the U.S. imposed further sanctions. This time, they affected the activities of Roscosmos. The most damaging restriction for Russian space efforts was the ban on access to Western electronic components for spacecraft and rockets. This impacted multiple projects, including military and communication satellites, scientific vehicles, and GLONASS navigation system satellites. The cessation of cooperation with Ukrainian enterprises forced the discontinuation of Soyuz-FG rocket production, halted launches of the cost-effective Dnepr rockets, and froze the Sea Launch project.

The most damaging restriction for Russian space efforts was the ban on access to Western electronic components for spacecraft and rockets

While Russian space research organizations were not directly sanctioned, NASA limited or suspended discussions on potential future scientific collaboration between American and Russian entities. Still, existing partnerships largely continued on projects that included lunar studies via the LRO satellite and Martian exploration using the Mars Odyssey orbiter and Curiosity rover. To this day, Russian scientific instruments remain active on these American spacecraft, and Moscow-based scientists are still involved in their development. The ISS program was also unaffected.

It was in 2014 that the Pentagon fully grasped its space-related dependence on Russia. Without access to Russian RD-180 rocket engines, the American military spacecraft launch program would face delays. At the time, the U.S. lacked an alternative to the reliable and relatively affordable Atlas V. Although SpaceX was rapidly developing its Falcon 9, the rocket had yet to meet the requisite reliability standards for critical government launches.

In 2014, the Pentagon fully grasped its space-related dependence on Russia

The U.S. therefore opted for a compromise: imposing sanctions on Russian rocket technology with a deferred implementation date of 2023. This timeline was intended to allow for the development of domestic alternatives.

As a result, NASA funded Blue Origin’s BE-4 engine development, while the Pentagon invested in SpaceX’s Raptor engines. The BE-4 engines were slated for use in the Vulcan rocket, designed to replace Atlas V. To maintain launch capabilities, the U.S. continued to purchase Russian RD-180 engines until 2021, accumulating a reserve sufficient for around fifteen launches. Concurrently, the Pentagon increased launch orders from SpaceX, as the private company’s rockets became increasingly reliable.

The United States still maintains a reserve of Russian engines sufficient for about fifteen launches

In 2014, U.S. reliance on Russia for manned spaceflight was even more pronounced. The Space Shuttle program had ended three years prior, leaving Roscosmos spacecraft as the sole means of transporting American crews to the International Space Station. Had the U.S.-Russia relationship broken down completely at that point, it would have spelled the end of the entire ISS program, inevitably leading to the station’s de-orbiting.

Such an outcome would have dealt a severe blow to America’s space prestige, especially considering that Washington had put up 70% of the program’s total $150 billion cost and had spent a decade and a half on its construction. This setback would have been particularly visible against the backdrop of China’s rapidly advancing space program. The strategy to swiftly address this challenge with the help of private companies had not yet proven successful, and it was not until six years later that the rapidly progressing SpaceX was able to achieve manned spaceflight.

Astronauts Bob Behnken and Doug Hurley arrived at the ISS aboard the SpaceX Crew Dragon spacecraft on May 31, 2020

Then, on May 31, 2020, the Crew Dragon spacecraft carrying test astronauts Doug Hurley and Bob Behnken finally liberated NASA from its nine-year dependence on Roscosmos vehicles for manned missions. While American astronauts continued to fly on Soyuz craft, these became part of an exchange program: a “seat on Soyuz” was traded for a “seat on Crew Dragon.” Anna Kikina became the first Russian cosmonaut to fly on the new American vessel in 2022.

As part of the Crew-5 mission, Anna Kikina departed from the ISS aboard the SpaceX Dragon spacecraft

Interestingly, the U.S. dependence on Russia extended to even seemingly mundane matters on the ISS. The station housed two toilets: one in the Russian segment and another in the American segment. However, both were of Russian design, with NASA paying the Russian company RSC Energia for their installation and maintenance. It wasn’t until 2021 that a new American-designed toilet was installed in the U.S. segment, although the technology is still undergoing testing.

America’s reliance on Russia even for ISS toilets persisted until the very end

2022 to Present: The space divorce

By the time Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the U.S. was already actively preparing for a “space divorce.” The successful Crew Dragon flight had secured reliable access to space for astronauts from U.S. soil, and January 2024 saw another milestone with the successful launch of the Vulcan rocket, featuring new BE-4 engines of U.S. design and manufacture.

However, America’s key dependence on Russia — manned spaceflight operations on the ISS — has not yet been fully eliminated. The International Space Station essentially comprises two docked space stations: a Russian one, built from Soviet-era designs based on the Mir-2 station concept, and the U.S.-designed space station Freedom. (The American segment also incorporates Japanese and European modules, as well as the Canadian robotic arm, Canadarm-2.)

America’s critical reliance on Russia for manned ISS operations persists

Despite the segmentation, the ISS was designed with intentional interdependence between the participating nations. The Russian segment houses the Zvezda module, which contains the ISS orbit correction engines. The American segment features gyrodynes — powerful gyroscopes that can alter the station’s orientation without consuming fuel — but these do not fully eliminate the role played by the Russian engines. The American segment also supplies most of the electrical power for the Russian segment, and NASA provides Roscosmos with communication services via its geostationary satellites.

NASA’s most crucial dependence on Roscosmos lies in the Russian side’s ability to adjust the ISS’s orbit. Currently, orbit corrections can only be performed using the Russian Zvezda module or Russian Progress ships. This capability is vital for both the continuation of the ISS mission and its eventual termination, as the controlled, safe de-orbiting of the 400-ton station requires precise orbital control until atmospheric re-entry.

The Zvezda module

American Cygnus cargo ships have twice conducted experimental engine burns for orbital correction, but these remain isolated incidents. Moreover, Cygnus itself relies on Russian technology, as it launches to the ISS atop Antares and Atlas V rockets, both of which — at least for now — use Russian-made first-stage engines. In an effort to end this dependency, Northrop Grumman and Firefly are in the process of developing a new version of Antares that does not use Russian engines. Interestingly, Firefly owes much of its development to Ukrainian-born entrepreneur Max Polyakov, who invested in the project and brought in Ukrainian engineers from Dnipro.

And the U.S.-Russia relationship continues to deteriorate. In the summer of 2022, Roscosmos chief Yuri Borisov announced Russia’s plans to exit the ISS project by 2028. By then, Roscosmos aims to have constructed its new station, ROS. Other participating countries are willing to continue ISS operations until 2030 or beyond. This timeline means that, when the time for de-orbiting comes, NASA will likely no longer be able to count on Roscosmos for its assistance in decommissioning the station safely.

As a result, in 2023 NASA announced plans to allocate at least $1 billion for the creation of a Deorbit module — an additional ISS component capable of lowering the station’s orbit by 220 kilometers to facilitate a controlled end to its mission. If equipped with refueling capabilities, this module could potentially handle both lowering and raising the ISS orbit, effectively replacing the Russian Zvezda. Such a development would mark a fundamental shift in NASA’s reliance on Roscosmos.

For Roscosmos, this “American import substitution” translates to lost revenue. Each RD-180 engine sold for $10-15 million, while NASA paid $50-80 million per astronaut launch. Commercial Proton launches initially brought in $100 million each, later decreasing to $65 million, and these contracts formed a significant portion of the Russian space budget, providing orders for enterprises and salaries for tens of thousands of workers.

“American import substitution” was a source of orders for enterprises and salaries for tens of thousands of workers

To maintain its current level of space activity and employment, Roscosmos must now secure new contracts. However, neither Europe, China, nor India can provide the necessary volume of work, nor are they inclined to fund Russian space efforts so generously. Roscosmos’s primary hope, aside from increased military contracts, lies in the Russian Orbital Station. However, no Russian state program for its construction has been approved, and no additional funding has been allocated.

Meanwhile, NASA continues to emphasize its interest in maintaining cooperation with Roscosmos, suggesting that only political factors, rather than technical or practical ones, threaten the established partnerships. If political divisions between the countries deepen and the “divorce” becomes irreversible, replacing Zvezda would not only represent another triumph of American import substitution, it would also mark the end of an era in global space exploration — a time when space functioned as a realm for cooperation and knowledge exchange, transcending earthly disagreements. For now, ongoing collaboration on the ISS and reciprocal flights of Russian and American crews on each other’s spacecraft still highlight the potential for cooperation amid worsening political circumstances. They represent the hope that it may still be possible to reverse course, establish peace on Earth, and continue space exploration as part of a united global effort.

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Earlier this month at the St. Petersburg International Economic Forum, it was announced that over 230 events will be held as part of the “Russia-China cross-cultural year.” Despite its illegal annexation of Crimea in 2014 and the international sanctions stemming from the Kremlin’s subsequent sponsorship of the Donetsk and Luhansk “People’s Republics,” it was not until 2022 that Russia found itself largely cut off from the democratic world. Trying to fill the void left after severing soft power ties with “unfriendly countries” in the West, Russia is hastily forging new partnerships in Asia, Africa, and the Middle East — and exploiting its image as an “anti-colonial” power even as its war of aggression in Ukraine continues.

The Insider

Russia’s list of “unfriendly countries,” which was significantly expanded in March 2022 and now includes 49 states, has strongly influenced the Kremlin’s cultural policy. Large international projects and festivals, many of which enjoyed great success in Russia for decades, are impossible for the country to host in the new reality. European cultural centers such as the Goethe Institute and the Center for Franco-Russian Studies (CEFR), which supported cultural exchange for many years, one by one announced the suspension of their activities in Russia.

In their place, the Kremlin has found new cultural partners — both among arms suppliers like Iran and North Korea, and also among ideologically acceptable states including China, South Africa, and Venezuela. Many projects aimed at strengthening ties with these countries have already received grants from Russia’s Presidential Foundation for Cultural Initiatives. And given how far in advance major cultural events are planned, many more new partnerships are likely to be announced.

The government’s attempts to re-orient Russia’s cultural agenda towards the East as a result of growing international isolation was mocked recently by a Russian comedian in a sarcastic lullaby: “This world is big and wonderful, all doors are open before you. You can vacation at North Korean resorts, visit haute couture days in Pakistan or an art house festival in Kabul. You can fly off anywhere you please, but only with a layover in Istanbul.”

China on stage

The year 2024 has been declared the China-Russia Year of Culture, but exchanges between the two authoritarian states began much earlier. Six years ago, soloists from the National Center for the Performing Arts of China performed an opera at the New Stage of the Mariinsky Theater in St. Petersburg: an adaptation of the WWII classic “The Dawns Here Are Quiet,” with a libretto by Wan Fang set to music by composer Tang Jianping. The original literary source, a novella by Soviet writer Boris Vasilyev, had been adapted into a 19-episode television show in the early 2000s.

The Dawns Here Are Quiet, a Chinese opera

Russian theaters are not just bringing in Chinese performers — they are increasingly adding Chinese elements to their existing repertoires. Konstantin Bogomolov, the artistic director of the Moscow Drama Theater on Bronnaya Street, suggested to director Andrei Prikotenko that they give a fresh spin to 18th-century Venetian playwright Carlo Gozzi’s “Turandot” by setting it in futuristic rather than medieval China. In the production, the new China is a global power that has taken over the world, and the characters govern it from a bunker. “Searching for ourselves, searching for each other. Against the backdrop and inside an unfamiliar, new, singular China,” reads the description on the theater’s website.

St. Petersburg’s LDM Theater, in turn, moved the setting of its stage adaptation of Boris Akunin’s novel “The Diamond Chariot” from Japan to China. The changes were motivated by LDM’s attempt to cut ties with the author, whom the Kremlin regime has labeled a terrorist and extremist. What is remarkable here is that China is now perceived as a political safe space — that a positive reference to China can secure a green light for a project based on the work of a Russian author whose political positions have led to his exile from Russia.

China is now perceived as a safe space: a Chinese reference can secure a green light for any project

Moscow’s Bolshoi Theater did not miss out on the trend. In the fall of 2023, its Chamber Stage presented its opera “The Mandarin’s Son. Le Rossignol.” The production includes a scene in which “Russian folk dancers perform for the Chinese emperor.”

“The Mandarin’s Son. Le Rossignol” on the Bolshoi Theater Chamber Stage

Pavel Rychkov

Instead of tours in the West, where travel restrictions and informal boycotts against them abound, Russian performers and museum workers now frequent Asia. During the year of cultural exchange, Beijing’s Metropolitan Museum of Art will host a vast exhibition of works from the Tretyakov Gallery under the clear and simple title “Hello, Russia!” Other major Russian museums, including the State Hermitage, the museums of the Moscow Kremlin, and the State Historical Museum, have also announced exhibitions in China.

Chinese theater-goers will also see two performances from Moscow’s Vakhtangov Theater: “Eugene Onegin” and “War and Peace,” both of which were originally directed by Rimas Tuminas. Residents of the Middle Kingdom, however, are unlikely to learn that Tuminas was “relieved from his post” as head of the theater in May 2022 due to his anti-war stance. The official reason for the director’s dismissal was poor health, but as Tuminas told Novaya Gazeta, this was simply a pretext to take the theater away from him. On Mar. 6, 2024, Tuminas died in Italy after a long illness.

China on the big screen

Another objective set forth by the Russian Ministry of Culture was to promote Russian cinema to Chinese audiences — it has not been a success. On March 15, Beijing saw the premiere of The Challenge (Vyzov), a space-based drama notable for the fact that some of its scenes were shot aboard the International Space Station. Produced by Channel One with support from the Cinema Foundation of Russia and Roscosmos, the film was screened at 8,000 Chinese movie theaters. Press releases proudly reported that the film had earned $310,000 in its opening weekend, meaning that it took in less than $40 per cinema.

Past Chinese-Russian films and television projects have not performed much better. Between 2015 and 2022, University of Georgia associate professor Maria Repnikova counted seven major joint projects with an “important educational and symbolic mission.” These include the historical feature film Ballet in the Flames of War and the documentary series Russia and China: The Heart of Eurasia, produced by state-owned television channel Russia-1. The documentary series highlights “the joint struggle of the Soviet and Chinese peoples against German Nazism and Japanese militarism and features interviews with Vladimir Putin and Xi Jinping. Other projects include the documentary series This is China! (2017-2019), and the romantic movie How I Became Russian (2019). Another was the adventure movie Viy 2: Journey to China, filmed in IMAX format (2019). In Repnikova’s assessment, these films create “a shared narrative about the war,” reaffirming “the longevity and resilience of China-Russia relations.”

Despite recent efforts, however, China’s share in the foreign distribution of Russian films is on the decline. According to Vedomosti, China did not rank even among the top ten importers of Russian movies in 2023. This is the result of Chinese restrictions designed to protect the domestic production of content. In addition, as Russian filmmakers told The Insider, movies from Russia are usually of little interest to Chinese authorities and moviegoers alike.

Chinese cinematography has yet to find much of an audience in Russia as well. On Feb. 8, 2024, the Russian capital saw the premiere of Mission to Moscow, a Russian-Chinese action film set in 1993. The movie follows a group of Chinese undercover agents trying to catch a gang of international train robbers. Russian media trashed the production, with a Gazeta.ru columnist writing: “Most of the time, Mission to Moscow manages to be completely unbearable. It is hard to believe that it runs for only two hours; this movie seems to be fundamentally unwilling to end and drags on like the Trans-Siberian railway — for an eternity.”

A still from Mission to Moscow

In a report for the Washington-based Wilson Center think tank, Repnikova defines the main feature of China-Russia relations as “notable power asymmetries” — in China’s favor. This imbalance is also evident “in the symbolic domain,» that is, in culture and education, and it “echoes China’s growing sway over Russia in other sectors, including in economic and geopolitical domains.”

As employees of Russian cultural institutions admit to The Insider, new projects involving “friendly countries” relieve their organizations of the need to tour the so-called “people’s republics” of Luhansk and Donetsk. After initially coming out against Russia’s war in Ukraine, in May 2022 Theater of Nations artistic director Yevgeny Mironov made a trip to Mariupol and announced “patronage” over the Mariupol Drama Theater, where on Mar. 15, 2022, a Russian airstrike had killed between 300-600 civilians who were sheltering inside. However, Mironov seems to have found a more palatable way to stay in the state’s good graces: the small stage of his Moscow theater will offer productions by foreign directors Ding Yiteng (China), Sinisa Cvetic (Serbia), and Motoi Miura (Japan).

Joint projects with China deliver institutions from the need to tour occupied Donbas

As Dr. Maria Papageorgiou, a professor of political science and international relations at the University of Exeter explains, the promotion of cultural and educational ties with Russia serves two key Chinese interests. First, they create a positive image of China among ordinary Russians while serving as a reminder that the two societies share not only historical and cultural ties, but also a present-day struggle against the West. Second, they allow China to project its great power status, especially as it has become the “big brother” in post-Cold War Sino-Russian relations. In her assessment, Beijing needs to find allies in the face of fierce competition with the United States, and China is therefore positioning itself as a more responsible potential international partner — one that does not interfere in other states’ domestic affairs, but focuses instead on mutually beneficial cooperation.

Chinese New Year in Moscow

Sergei Kuksin

The great cultural rally: from Qatar and Africa to Laos

Russia also plans to develop cultural ties with Middle Eastern and African nations. The Tretyakov Gallery has already signed an agreement with Oman and is considering cooperation with Qatar and Saudi Arabia.

After 13 years of running the Russia pavilion at the Cannes Film Market, state audiovisual production company Roskino has had to make do with remote professional screenings in the Middle East and Southeast Asia. Under the new program “Promotion of Russian Regions as Film Locations,” Roskino showed off the advantages of Veliky Novgorod, Moscow, and St. Petersburg to filmmakers from 13 countries, including Iran, India, South Africa, and Mozambique. Among the new countries to host the Russian Film Festival, the organization proudly lists Mozambique, South Africa, Iran, Tajikistan, South Korea, and Laos.

“New macro-regions await us: primarily MENA (Middle East and North Africa), Asia, and Latin America,” explained Inna Shalyto, head of Roskino since 2022.

Poster of the Russian Film Festival in Cuba

Some events have retained their old names while completely changing their vector and content. Thus, the Baltic House International Theater Festival, which for over three decades brought projects from Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania to St. Petersburg, chose as its theme for 2023 “Looking East,” and appropriately focused on performances from India and Iran. Meanwhile, the Obraztsov Puppet Theater hosted the first Istoki (“Origins”) International Festival with performances from Belarus, Lebanon, Mongolia, Iran, and Turkey.

Africa holds a special place in the hearts of Russian cultural officials. The second Russia-Africa Summit, held last summer in St. Petersburg, featured a diverse cultural program. Lenfilm Studios hosted African Cinema Days, and the Rhythms of Africa music festival took place in Moskovskaya Square. The Hermitage launched an exhibition of African ritual sculpture, and the Manege displayed contemporary African art at the exhibition “Reversed Safari.”

The “Reversed Safari” exhibition at the Manege

St. Petersburg

Of course, increased cultural ties between Russia and the countries of the “Global South” are not, in and of themselves, a bad thing. A new Museum of African Culture has been in the works in Moscow since 2019. But the trend that took off in Feb. 2022, if nothing else, highlights the shrinking slate of geographical options accessible to Russian audiences and artists — and the paucity of convincing arguments available to apologists of their country’s increasing isolation.

In July 2023, Mikhail Piotrovsky, the longtime director of the Hermitage, published a manifesto in St. Petersburg Vedomosti titled “Africa as a New Reality.” The text recalls Alexander Pushkin’s remote African roots and mentions Soviet geneticist Vavilov, who collected biological samples in Ethiopia. As Piotrovsky argues, the African continent is in the global spotlight not only thanks to its “rich mineral resources,” but also “because it is a reservoir of new energy for the development of humanity.”

New human resources

Piotrovsky went further in a Feb. 2024 interview, openly admitting that Russia has politicized entire areas of research: “Eastern studies scholars are leveraging political circumstances to stimulate and develop research. We have entered a period that favors the creation of a special program for the development of Eastern and African studies.” As Piotrovsky reminded his interviewer, the Faculty of Eastern Studies at St. Petersburg State University was founded by special decree of Emperor Nicholas I after the Crimean War, “when the importance of studying the East became evident.”

Today, museums and universities are launching new programs and signing bilateral agreements. Last year, professors of the GITIS Russian Institute of Theater Arts visited Algeria, Egypt, Senegal, Tunisia, China, India, Japan, the UAE, and Bahrain. At the Russia-Africa Forum, Rector of GITIS Grigory Zaslavsky officially announced plans to offer two-week intensive courses by GITIS professors in several African countries and encouraged GITIS alumni to stage plays in African theaters. He spoke of the need to revive student exchanges and the cultural influence on a Soviet-era scale.

The State Tretyakov Gallery plans to launch joint educational programs with Peking University and the Central Academy of Fine Arts in 2024. The vast majority of agreements that are already concluded or in the pipeline suggest long-term cooperation.

“Friendly” deportation

The eastward turn is not only ideologically appropriate for the Russian government — it also expands the reach of Kremlin censorship. The Russian Foreign Ministry has made it clear that performers who are banned in Russia will find it problematic to tour in countries over which the Kremlin holds sway. Not coincidentally, in Jan. 2024 it was reported that authorities in the UAE had levied a fine of approximately $27,000 against Russian comedian Maxim Galkin, who criticized the Russian state and its war in Ukraine as part of a performance in Dubai in 2023. Russian rapper Oxxxymiron faces not only a fine for making political remarks at a separate concert in Dubai, but also a complete ban on performing in the UAE.

The Russian Foreign Ministry made it clear: performers who are banned in Russia will find it problematic to tour in countries over which the Kremlin holds sway

The Kremlin’s influence over its new cultural partners has also affected non-Russian artists. In February it was reported that the UAE had banned Ukrainian performer Andriy Danylko — better known by his drag queen stage name “Verka Serduchka” — from entering the country. At a 2022 concert in Dubai, Danylko had allegedly engaged in “inciting ethnic hatred” by speaking out in support of his country’s efforts to defend itself against Russian aggression. Before

And the UAE is not the only Kremlin partner cracking down on anti-Putin artists. In January, Galkin and Ruslan Bely, another comedian who has condemned Russian aggression in Ukraine, had their concerts canceled in Thailand and Indonesia. That same month, the dissident rock band Bi-2 found itself under arrest and facing imminent deportation to Russia from Thailand. They were saved only by the combined efforts of diplomats from Israel and Australia, among other countries. The situation is all the more disturbing considering that the UAE and Thailand, as popular destinations for Russian emigrants, are lucrative markets for artists who cannot continue to work in Russia.

Old colonizers give way to new ones

In its attempt to strengthen relations with several African countries, Russia is actively exploiting the motif of liberation from Western colonialism — a narrative equally appealing to local authorities and leftists in Europe and Latin America. As The Insider‘s interviewee at a Russian university notes, “Funnily, this is also decolonization in the European sense, meaning the abandonment of the European discourse directed towards Eastern countries.”

The irony is not lost on Edyta Bojanowska, chair of the Department of Slavic Languages and Literatures at Yale University, who remarks that, “While denying the reality of Russia’s own imperialism, Putin now exploits the colonial wounds of Asia, Africa, and the Americas to cast Russia as the global champion of anti-colonialism.” In her view, this form of Soviet-style “anti-colonialism” has become “a tool in the Kremlin’s well-funded repertoire of soft power” — in the cultural sphere as well as at a political level.

Bojanowska is convinced that some countries of the Global South “are, understandably, grateful for past Soviet military, economic, and educational aid in their anti-colonial struggles” and that they are therefore willing to “turn a blind eye to the suffering of Russia’s own colonial victims, a group that today includes Ukrainians.”

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Russian authorities recently admitted that 20% of soldiers returning from the war in Ukraine suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder. In line with the tradition of punitive psychiatry, these people risk being misdiagnosed with “schizophrenia” instead of receiving proper treatment. The situation could have improved had the Russian Ministry of Health followed through with plans to adopt the International Classification of Diseases (ICD) as its standard for making diagnoses. However, the update was vetoed for a very specific political reason: to avoid acknowledging that homosexuality is not a disease. This decision will negatively impact not only LGBTQ people in Russia, but also those with autism spectrum disorders and other mental health conditions. Implementing the latest version of the ICD could have prompted doctors and administrators to familiarize themselves with new treatment protocols and encouraged medical faculties to update their educational programs. Instead, the Russian government’s purported defense of “traditional values” took precedence over the health of its citizens.

Focus on human rights: how the new disease classification differs from the old one

The International Classification of Diseases (ICD) is a highly specialized tool used for diagnosing medical problems in a standardized way. The World Health Organization (WHO), which maintains the project under the aegis of the United Nations, periodically reviews its classifications, removing outdated diagnoses and introducing new ones. Some diseases are merged, others separated, and some reclassified into different medical categories. After a new version of the ICD is approved by the WHO — usually once every couple of decades — national healthcare systems gradually implement it.

The most recent version, ICD-11, was approved in 2019. At the end of 2021, the Russian Ministry of Health approved the transition to the updated addition, and 200 million rubles from the federal budget were allocated to pay for the switch. However, upon closer inspection, it was found that ICD-11 changes the criteria for recognizing certain aspects of human sexuality as diseases, a move the Russian authorities deemed unacceptable.

The decision to adopt ICD-11 initially faced criticism from the Soviet-nostalgic Zavtra newspaper, followed by the Russian Orthodox Church. By early February 2024, the State Duma had joined in, and on February 6, 2024, the Ministry of Health announced the cancellation of the reform “due to the large number of appeals from citizens, public organizations, as well as senators and deputies, regarding potential contradictions with traditional moral and spiritual values, which are protected by law.”

One of the main proponents behind these numerous appeals, Deputy Speaker of the State Duma and United Russia member Pyotr Tolstoy, explained to Vedomosti on February 5 that “we need to reject the implementation of those ICD norms that address issues of gender identity and the LGBT topic.”

The State Duma decided it was necessary to “reject the implementation of those ICD norms that address issues of gender identity and the LGBT topic”

The main differences between the new and old disease classifications impact two significant areas of healthcare: mental disorders and sexual disorders. Several changes relate to autism, stress disorders, and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). In addition, ICD-11 introduces the diagnosis of “gaming disorder” for the first time.

Again though, Tolstoy’s concerns were not about Russian youth spending too much time playing “Call of Duty.” Instead, sections of the new classification concerning homosexuality, gender identity, and sexual preferences have drawn the attention of those in Russia advocating for “spiritual and moral values.” In ICD-11, entries related to transgender issues are moved from the category of mental disorders to sexual disorders. These are now classified as “gender incongruence,” a condition related to sexual health rather than mental illness.

According to the new classification, having sexual fantasies alone is not enough to warrant a diagnosis — and the stigma that comes with it. To diagnose “pedophilia” under the new standards, a case must involve not just attraction, but attempts to act on it.

ICD-11 no longer considers behaviors as mental disorders if they do not harm oneself or others. For instance, BDSM practices are not classified as evidence of a disorder so long as they are consensual and conducted voluntarily.

ICD-11 no longer considers behaviors as mental disorders if they do not harm oneself or others

According to Regina (name changed upon her request), a sexologist who assists LGBTQ people in Russia, the new classification shifts its focus towards the protection of human rights:

“ICD-11 eliminates any references to sexual orientation that lack clinical significance or relevance to public health. These were still present in the previous version.”

This new approach has stirred strong reactions among Russian psychiatrists working for state-run institutions. For instance, in a recent interview with Medvestnik, Olga Bukhanovskaya, a member of the Russian Society of Psychiatrists, argued against adopting ICD-11, stating that its “proposed interpretation for conditions such as transsexualism, zoophilia, transvestism, and other disorders of sexual preference is unacceptable from the standpoint of traditional Russian psychiatry.”

Schizophrenia Instead of PTSD: the legacy of Soviet punitive psychiatry

The persistence of “classical Russian psychiatry” is precisely why Anna (name changed), a psychiatrist who worked until recently at Moscow’s Serbsky National Medical Research Center for Psychiatry and Narcology, argues the urgent need for a transition to ICD-11:

“In Russia, two psychiatric schools coexist: the traditional one, rooted in Soviet practices and authoritative opinions, and the newer one, oriented towards evidence-based medicine and contemporary research. The shift towards evidence-based medicine has been particularly slow in psychiatry due to its intricate nature.”

An example illustrating the harm of traditional Soviet psychiatry is found in the diagnosis of ADHD in adults. While other countries treat it, Russia does not recognize this diagnosis. Psychiatrists from the traditional school often believe that as individuals mature, ADHD evolves into various personality disorders, Anna explains: “These patients may receive diagnoses of schizophrenia or bipolar disorder.” According to Anna, psychiatrists practicing evidence-based medicine sometimes classify such cases as pediatric to comply with regulations: “They prescribe medications intended for children, effectively treating these conditions covertly.”

In Russia, no-one is diagnosed with ADHD

Another example pertains to the diagnosis of “schizophrenia.” In Russia, individuals returning from combat zones may mistakenly receive this diagnosis. According to Yuri Zarubin, a psychologist who emigrated from Russia after the onset of full-scale war: “For instance, a person might have been captured and subjected to prolonged beatings, or experienced repeated sexual violence. Complicated post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) affects self-esteem, leading people to withhold their experiences from doctors who may not inquire further into the underlying causes. This condition can also manifest with suicidal thoughts, substance abuse, and psychotic episodes.”

The adoption of the updated international guidelines could help. “In ICD-11, ‘complicated PTSD’ is a new classification,” Zarubin says, whereas ICD-10 used “enduring personality change after catastrophic experience.” The shift focuses not on personality change but on diagnosing the disorder itself, suggesting a different treatment approach. Unlike typical PTSD, complicated PTSD lacks a clear single traumatic event as its cause.

Currently, there is a high likelihood that a person in Russia who notices symptoms of PTSD may simply avoid seeking medical help due to fears of receiving a psychiatric diagnosis. Whether it’s labeled as “schizophrenia,” “bipolar disorder,” or some other mental disorder, such diagnoses cut off a person’s access to employment in state institutions — including the police, a common career path for veterans.

A person who notices PTSD symptoms may simply avoid seeking medical help due to fears of receiving a psychiatric diagnosis

According to Zarubin, awareness among doctors about the diagnosis of “complicated PTSD” in medical classifications could lead to a different approach towards such patients. This understanding would help professionals recognize that people contemplating suicide, exhibiting aggression (which is a normal response in stress disorders), or using alcohol or drugs may not necessarily have schizophrenia. Instead, they could be experiencing complicated PTSD, for which specific protocols such as EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing), prolonged exposure therapy, and cognitive-behavioral therapy can be effective.

Meanwhile, traditional Russian psychiatrists are concerned that the adoption of ICD-11 could lead some patients who ought to be diagnosed with schizophrenia to be deprived of proper treatment. For example, Olga Bukhanovskaya from the Russian Society of Psychiatrists explained in an interview that Russia has a “comprehensive classification of mental illnesses,” including “several variations of schizophrenia.” She argued that ICD-11 undermines Russian “national achievements in assessing severe illnesses,” suggesting that some people may go undiagnosed and consequently miss out on quality psychiatric care.

Bukhanovskaya mentions the diagnosis of “slow-progressing schizophrenia,” a longstanding tool of Soviet punitive psychiatry, as an achievement of Russian medicine. This diagnosis continues to be used in Russia today for similar purposes as it was during the Soviet era. It was precisely this type of schizophrenia that shaman Alexander Gabyshev was diagnosed with to justify his involuntary treatment. In 2021, the Memorial human rights center classified Gabyshev as a political prisoner.

The unnamed diseases

The process of transitioning to new standards is slow. In most countries, ICD-11 officially came into effect only on January 1, 2022. The previous version of the classification was developed in 1989, but the first country to adopt it — Thailand — did so only in 1994. Russia followed in 1999, and the U.S. in 2015. Some countries still use ICD-9.

Nevertheless, the introduction of new terminology and changes in wording alone can sometimes significantly improve many lives. A notable illustration involves autism spectrum disorder (ASD). Previously, individuals with ASD were diagnosed with different conditions, such as “Asperger’s syndrome” and “Kanner syndrome.” In ICD-11, the emphasis is on the spectrum itself, categorizing individuals based on their functional abilities, speech development, and intellectual progress. However, in current Russian practices, diagnosing autism in adults is exceedingly rare.

“Many adults with autism are treated with neuroleptics,” explains psychiatrist Anna. “Only those who are incapacitated and disabled receive an autism diagnosis upon reaching adulthood. Disability is only acknowledged in the most severe cases. Meanwhile, individuals with autism spectrum disorders have distinct needs that are acknowledged in other countries. For instance, one of my Russian patients has now confirmed his autism diagnosis in the Netherlands. He will benefit from support and accommodations during exams, such as taking them in a distraction-free environment.”

In traditional Russian psychiatry, not only is ADHD not considered a diagnosis for adults, but also several medications commonly used in the West are viewed as dangerous narcotics. Primary treatments for ADHD such as Ritalin and bupropion are prohibited in Russia.

Anna explains that, “We often have to initiate treatment using second-line medications like atomoxetine. Psychiatrists from the Soviet era argue that in the West, ADHD is diagnosed, and children are heavily medicated. However, in Western countries, the emphasis is on enhancing quality of life, whereas in Russia, some doctors believe a disorder should be tolerated unless it’s life-threatening. The banning of substances like Ritalin exemplifies this quality-of-life issue.”

Research indicates that untreated ADHD is associated with an increased risk of suicide. Adopting the ICD-11 would facilitate addressing this issue, and would also help with gathering contemporary data and pursuing approval for internationally recognized medications in Russia.

Another new diagnosis in the international classification is “prolonged grief disorder.” This diagnosis prompts healthcare providers to recognize that not every instance of emotional distress demands treatment for depression; rather, some grief experiences are part of normal life. “Grief is always triggered by an external event, such as a house fire or the loss of a loved one,” explains psychologist Yuri Zarubin, emphasizing the distinction. “But in Russia, it’s common for someone who has experienced a house fire and sustained burns to end up in the hospital seeing a psychiatrist who starts alleviating their distress with antidepressants. This approach may unintentionally hinder the natural grieving process and potentially increase the risk of developing PTSD after discontinuing the medication.” However, Zarubin notes that when someone continues mourning for three years instead of the culturally expected six months, it indicates that something is hindering the grieving process.

Of course, the “disease” that led to Russia’s ICD-11 controversy in the first place involved the updated classification’s approach to sexual minorities. While Russia continues its path of discrimination against the LGBTQ community, adopting ICD-11 could potentially help reduce stigma in society. For example, the new standards relocate transgender issues from the psychiatric section to the sexological one, diminishing psychiatrists’ absolute authority over patients. As sexologist Regina explained: “Currently, psychiatrists may hospitalize transgender persons for a month to exclude psychotic reactions or schizophrenia, whereas these people often require more essential help from endocrinologists.”

Also shifted from the psychiatric section is “acute stress reaction,” which is now placed under a distinct chapter titled “Factors influencing health status.” Yuri Zarubin illustrates such a condition from his practice during the early stages of full-scale war:

“He was a person who had relocated from Ukraine to Poland. He couldn’t think in either Ukrainian or Polish and harbored self-disdain for thinking in Russian. Therapy proved instrumental in resolving his identity conflict. A traditional-minded doctor, aware of suicide risks, might have opted to prescribe mood-altering medications, but such an approach wouldn’t address the underlying internal conflict. This unresolved conflict could have resurfaced even more strongly after the cessation of medication, potentially leading to the development of chemical dependence. Faced with time constraints, doctors often prioritize prescribing medications without fully considering the social factors that prompted the patient to seek treatment.”

One step forward, two steps back

Embracing the latest version of the ICD could potentially motivate healthcare professionals and administrators to explore new treatment approaches and protocols, while medical schools could revise their educational programs. As a result, the primary impact would be to “raise lower standards of care,” according to Yuri Zarubin. He suggests that the professional community is “likely to reassess standards, revising training programs for psychiatrists, psychologists, neurologists, and clinical psychologists, acknowledging that many current approaches may not be effective.”

In psychology and psychiatry, approaches quickly become outdated. For instance, the Moscow Institute of Psychoanalysis currently teaches the outdated American debriefing technique (processing events with emotional detachment), which research reveals not only fails to aid during stress but may increase the risk of PTSD. Conversely, some educational institutions teach NLP (Neuro-Linguistic Programming), which lacks scientific recognition.

The consequences of untreated conditions or outdated methods are now evident on the streets of Russian cities. Veterans and people residing near conflict zones in Russia may count only on basic psychological and psychiatric assistance. But the impact may soon be felt much farther from the front lines, as soldiers who fought in Ukraine return home without proper rehabilitation, only to continue perpetuating violence back in their communities.

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Russia and China are currently united by many things — a natural gas pipeline, mutual antipathy towards Washington, authoritarian politics, and, increasingly, a state-sponsored homophobic agenda. In both countries, LGBTQ activists are persecuted, open homosexuality is banned from television, and the display of rainbow flags is penalized. In China, supporters of tolerance towards sexual minorities are considered agents of the West, but ordinary LGBTQ people enjoy relative freedom. The Chinese authorities adhere to the principle of “don’t support, don’t encourage, don’t condemn.” In Russia, however, the authorities systematically portray the so-called “international LGBT movement” as an extremist enemy. As a result, activists — and even regular visitors to gay friendly establishments — are targeted as potential threats to the state itself.

The Insider

In May 2023, after 15 years of operation, the Beijing LGBT Center closed down due to pressure from state authorities and local residents. In recent years, the center, one of the last of its kind in the country, faced frequent relocations, event cancellations, and harassment of its staff. Alongside cultural events, the center provided psychological counseling, maintained a directory of LGBTQ-friendly doctors, lawyers, and businesspeople, and offered HIV testing. It defended gay rights in court and conducted nationwide surveys on issues faced by sexual minorities, sometimes in collaboration with the UN Development Program. The center relied heavily on hundreds of volunteers, who campaigned for transgender rights and trained psychotherapists to work with other clients. Now, many of these volunteers have either left China or gone underground.

This is the outcome of an anti-LGBTQ policy that has been intensifying over recent years. In many ways, it mirrors the approach taken in Russia, lesbian Zhao Qin told The Insider. She left a southern Chinese metropolis to study in Japan and does not plan to return home.

“Currently, the authorities are canceling any event related to LGBT issues, including queer film screenings, shutting down groups that protect LGBT and women’s rights, imprisoning queers, especially activists, and banning any LGBT terms and representation in the media, such as the word ‘gay’.”

All of this is familiar to the LGBTQ community in Russia. However, the respective persecution meted out by Beijing and Moscow differ in significant ways.

Ancient passion

Chinese culture has acknowledged homosexuality for centuries. This is evident in the traditional words and phrases used to describe same-sex love. “Passion of the cut sleeve” refers to a legend about Emperor Ai of Han, who ruled in the 1st century BC. One day, his favorite, Dong Xian, fell asleep with his head on the emperor’s arm. Rather than disturb his beloved, the emperor cut off his robe’s sleeve. Another similar euphemism is “passion of Longyang,” named after the favorite of an emperor from the 3rd century BC.

In the 17th century, the deity Tu’er Shen emerged in Fujian province as the patron of men who love men. Tu’er Shen was originally a soldier named Hu Tianbao, executed for his attraction to an official. Although he faced punishment in the afterlife, the judges showed him mercy, recognizing that love motivated his crime. The cult of Tu’er Shen became so popular that authorities began punishing its followers and even introduced a law banning all same-sex relations, not just those involving payment (although the punishment was still quite mild).

During the Middle Ages, homophobia was more prevalent than in ancient times, yet in Fujian province, unions between two men were recognized, at least for a period, and female homosexuality remained entirely unregulated by law. After 1907, when the ban on sex between men was lifted, tolerance of same-sex relationships was largely restored, albeit imperfectly.

There is a crucial distinction that sets China apart not only from Russia, but also from most Western countries when it comes to LGBTQ matters. A specialist in East Asian culture — one who preferred to remain anonymous for safety reasons — explains that:

“In China, there have never been religious prohibitions against homosexual relationships, unlike in Christianity. Consequently, the homosexual tradition has always been deeply embedded in Chinese culture and literature. It’s not an imported concept but rather an inherent, internal one. For instance, two of the famous ‘Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove’ from the 3rd century were openly homosexual, as documented in literature. In one of the four classic Chinese novels familiar to every cultured individual, ‘Dream of the Red Chamber’ (18th century), there are depictions of homosexual scenes. Therefore, attempts to combat homosexuality as a ‘foreign contagion’ are destined to fail.”

The homosexual tradition has always been deeply embedded in Chinese culture and literature. It’s not an imported concept but rather an inherent, internal one

Historically, China did not differentiate between heterosexual and homosexual people the way Western societies do. Instead, emphasis was placed on maintaining a hierarchical class structure and fulfilling familial obligations. Homosexuality was tolerated so long as people fulfilled their duties such as marrying and continuing the family lineage, meaning that the recent crackdown on LGBTQ rights as part of a campaign against “foreign influence” is a new phenomenon.

Again, this does not mean that China has always acted in an enlightened way towards its sexual minorities. In 1979, the country passed a law allowing police to arrest gay people for “hooliganism” — the disruption of public order — but this law was repealed in 1997, thereby decriminalizing same-sex relationships once again in China. Four years later, homosexuality was even removed from the official list of mental illnesses.

Accustomed to this state of affairs, LGBTQ people began forming communities, publishing magazines, and opening clubs and bars. The authorities did not interfere, ordinary citizens hardly protested, and a vibrant queer culture emerged in essentially all major cities. Then Xi Jinping came to power in 2012.

Looking for foreign influence

After ending the “one-child policy” in 2015, the Chinese government introduced subsidies for young parents. Still, boosting birth rates and marriage numbers remains a challenge. In 2023, Xi personally stressed the need to cultivate a new culture of marriage and child-rearing to guide young people toward family formation. The prohibition of same-sex marriage and state-sponsored homophobia stem from the same objective: encouraging everyone to contribute to increasing birth rates.

After ending the “one-child policy” in 2015, the government introduced subsidies for young parents, yet boosting birth rates and marriage numbers remains a challenge

Family holds a critically important role in Chinese culture. The younger generation is expected to carry on the family lineage, and reluctance to have children is frowned upon in more traditional families. Parents of LGBTQ people also face pressure, as they have “failed” to raise children who fulfill their family obligations. As a result, it is not uncommon for gay men and lesbians to enter into marriages to satisfy their parents. In China, terms like “tunzi” and “tunfu” exist — referring to a “gay wife” and “lesbian husband,” respectively.

In an atmosphere of rising geopolitical tensions between East and West, Chinese authorities have also begun to portray the country’s LGBTQ citizens as potential threats to national security. As early as 2012, Yuan Peng, an expert on the United States and president of the Chinese Academy of Contemporary International Relations, wrote in People’s Daily about Western attempts to influence society through human rights activists, underground religious figures, dissidents, internet influencers, and vulnerable groups including LGBTQ people.

This trend is also observed by Lin Sun, a gender researcher from Guangzhou. “The government clearly perceives Western influence in LGBT activism. Recent events have underscored this, such as the prohibition of rainbow flags at concerts,” he notes, citing the example of Taiwanese pop singer A-Mei’s concert in August 2023, where attendees wearing rainbow flags on their shirts were denied entry.

Government concerns are heightened by the fact that LGBTQ-themed events often occur at Western embassies and receive support from abroad. However, organized sexual minorities represent just one of many potential enemies. According to the authorities, independent non-governmental organizations (NGOs), which are typically funded from overseas due to challenges in securing funding domestically, are viewed as a threat. But while large NGOs operating in China are required to register with the government, up until recently the authorities often turned a blind eye to the activities of unregistered small organizations, including those focused on LGBTQ issues.

However, in 2017, China enacted a law regulating all foreign NGOs. Now, these organizations are monitored and registered by the Public Security Bureau. They are prohibited from raising funds and recruiting staff within China, and their activities must comply with Chinese laws. As a result, the number of foreign organizations rapidly decreased; the law significantly impacted LGBTQ groups, as many foreign NGOs had been operating unofficially and now faced increased difficulty registering. While it is somewhat easier to register as commercial organizations, these too are under strict government scrutiny.

Since 2021, China has seen a new wave of restrictions. Lin Sun, along with many other researchers, partially attributes this to the COVID-19 pandemic, which led to strict lockdowns in the country:

“Like any other public crisis, COVID-19 resulted in heightened state control over the populace. The technologies and laws introduced during the pandemic remain in place today. This translates to a narrowing space for activism.”

Civil society has felt the effects. In 2021, China introduced a new policy to combat illegal civic organizations. This policy banned collaboration with such groups, their mention in the media, providing them venues, and conducting banking transactions with them. It effectively brought two decades of civil society development to a halt, limiting the activities of LGBTQ organizations in the process.

The emphasis on protecting against foreign influence and upholding so-called traditional values now go hand in hand. While the West embraces sexual freedom of choice, China and Russia, by insulating their citizens, are veering towards conservatism. Under such circumstances, those LGBTQ people who opt for a more “Western” aesthetic — feminine men, butch lestians, or drag queens — become easy targets.

Cracking down on “sissies” and BL dramas

Violating gender norms clashes with China’s emphasis on family values, especially when it comes to the behavior of men. In 2016, China’s State Administration of Press, Publication, Radio, Film, and Television banned the portrayal of homosexuals on TV and streaming platforms. This parallels Russia’s 2013 law banning “LGBT propaganda.” In China, this ban is part of a regulatory package against depictions of the “dark side of society.” Besides homosexuality, the screen cannot show extramarital affairs, incest, or relationships with minors, all of which are officially labeled as “abnormal sexual behavior.”

Shortly before these new rules went into effect, Chinese streaming platforms removed “Addicted,” a popular series based on a BL (boys’ love) novel that had attracted 100 million Chinese viewers over the course of a month. The success of “Addicted” likely influenced the State Administration’s decision, and the series was removed even before the entire season had been released.

Although homosexual relationships disappeared from television screens, viewers continued to see male pop singers who, emulating South Korean idols, wore makeup and meticulously maintained their appearance. In 2018, this topic sparked a debate in official Chinese media. Xinhua News Agency published an article titled “The Era of Sissies is Over,” condemning “effeminate-looking singers.” The author argued that moderation is key, and the popularity of “sissies,” who are “neither men nor women,” leads to decline and wealth worship. Most importantly, it was argued, such entertainers negatively influence the youth, the future of the country, which can never become prosperous if it adopts vulgar tastes.

Xinhua News Agency published an article titled “The Era of Sissies is Over,” condemning “effeminate-looking singers”

People’s Daily criticized Xinhua for the offensive term “sissies” and pointed out that strong soldiers can also become online heroes. However, even the People’s Daily author agreed that pop stars should abandon unhealthy aesthetics and mannerisms.

A few months later, in January 2019, several TV series and shows blurred out men’s earrings. However, it is worth noting that such censorship does not only affect portrayals of LGBTQ people or “effeminite” men. In China, there is a general effort to maintain “moral purity” in culture, and all erotic content is therefore banned. The plunging neckline of a heroine in the series “The Empress of China,” or sex scenes in “Game of Thrones,” could also be blurred out. Censorship of LGBTQ issues is often unpredictable: for instance, Chinese releases cut references to Freddie Mercury’s sexual orientation in “Bohemian Rhapsody” and Ross’s ex-wife in “Friends,” but left such references intact in “Green Book.”

In Chinese releases, references to Freddie Mercury’s sexual orientation were cut, but in “Green Book,” they were left untouched

In 2020, Xi Zefu, a member of the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference, continued Xinhua’s rhetoric. He pointed out the feminization of young men, along with their alleged weakness and timidity. He blamed this trend on a combination of the one-child policy, predominantly female environments, and incorrect cultural heroes. According to Xi Zefu, this tendency “threatens the survival and development of the Chinese nation.” Unlike Russian lawmakers who prefer imposing bans, Xi Zefu chose a different strategy. He proposed enhancing physical education in schools, researching social issues, instilling proper health concepts in children, and encouraging intellectual development.

Not coincidentally, in 2021 new regulations emerged. This time, they banned broadcasters from showing “sissies” and “abnormal aesthetics.” The broadcasting administration used the term “niangpao,” which means “effeminate men” or “sissies” and is considered derogatory. Previously, authorities had not used such language. Now, TV and radio companies are instructed not to invite guests who do not support the official position of China or who violate norms, including moral standards. The administration criticized men who wear makeup or promote the cult of wealth, instead urging the promotion of more masculine images.

In 2021, the authorities used the derogatory term “niangpao” — “effeminate men” or “sissies” — for the first time

Simultaneously, China’s Ministry of Education issued guidelines for schools to prevent boys from becoming effeminate. Schools are primarily advised to find good physical education teachers and improve the quality of physical education. Children should master at least two sports skills and be better educated about health, and school leaders should monitor students’ mental states and study the impact of influencers, family, and environment.

While Xi Zefu and the Ministry of Education voiced widespread concerns, not all Chinese citizens agreed, sparking heated debates online. Professor Liu Minhui from Beijing Women’s University, writing in the English-language newspaper China Daily, represented those advocating for diversity. She viewed the debates as a sign of societal progress and concluded that:

“The upbringing of children should be free from gender biases, nurturing them to become adults with independent personalities, a sense of duty, and all other positive human qualities. Can we really guarantee that muscular men are always responsible and honest?”

BL dramas, popular series aimed at girls and based on gay romance novels, were among the main casualties of censorship in 2021. They drew official scrutiny, with Guangming Daily, a leading newspaper, accusing BL authors and actors of promoting improper values and vulgarity solely for profit and fame. Another article cautioned about a different peril: romanticized narratives potentially leading young women to believe that “true love isn’t meant for marriage or carrying on the family lineage.”

Shortly thereafter, the radio and television administration once again responded by urging broadcasters to boycott BL adaptations. By January 2022, they had escalated to an all out ban on BL dramas (along with talent shows featuring pop idol imitators). The primary concern cited was the fawning fandom willing to spend money on anything related to their beloved characters and actors. The actors themselves — youthful, elegant, and not conventionally masculine — were seen as exacerbating the issue. Officials suggested shifting towards more realistic storytelling with appropriate themes and avoiding exclusively casting celebrities in leading roles.

While production of BL dramas didn’t cease entirely, they are now primarily shown outside of China. For instance, the 2023 remake of “Addicted,” titled “Stay with Me,” aired in Taiwan (where same-sex marriages are legalized), and the series “Only You,” featuring Chinese actors, was made for Taiwanese television. In China, the depiction of male relationships in these series is typically confined to portrayals of close friendship.

There are several reasons behind these restrictions. Fan and queer cultures are seen as linked to capitalism and consumerism, whereas economic equality is deemed by the ruling Communist Party to be crucial for the prosperity of the country as a whole. Additionally, there is a general desire for differences among citizens to diminish as much as possible, with everyone adhering to established norms. Lastly, in its pursuit of international influence, China strives to promote an image of masculinity that contrasts with the pop culture portrayal of elegant boys.

Regarding censorship of the BL genre in literature (known as danmei), regulation of its online content began as early as 2014, when Chinese authorities began purging pornography from the internet. During this period, a prominent literary site, Jinjiang Literature, where many danmei authors published their works, introduced the euphemism “chunai,” or “pure love,” for BL stories, as the portrayal of sexual relationships between men were banned on the site. Currently, danmei stories adhere to the principle of avoiding explicit descriptions, prompting authors to employ euphemisms. Nevertheless, some authors choose to take risks by sharing explicit scenes in group chats with readers — a practice also observed among Russian authors.

Online queer literature faced censorship as early as 2014 when Chinese authorities began purging pornography from the internet

The necessity for such precautionary measures became evident in November 2018 when BL writer Tianyi was sentenced to 10.5 years in prison. She independently published a homoerotic novel with a print run of 7,000 copies. The court found her guilty of disseminating pornographic material, and the verdict sparked criticism, as Tianyi received a more severe punishment than many rapists. The court nevertheless upheld its decision.

Many authors deleted their texts from Chinese platforms or migrated to the international fanfiction platform Archive of Our Own. However, in 2020 this archive was blocked in China for “polluting the online environment” after some authors accused others of feminizing actors in the popular BL series “Unstoppable: Lord Chenxin.” The BL genre remains highly popular both in China and abroad, often prompting officially published writers to release two versions: one censored for the Chinese market with homosexual storylines removed, and another with kisses or even intimate scenes for international audiences.

Despite stringent censorship in mainstream media, LGBT film festivals continue to be organized in China. In the autumn of 2023, the Beijing Queer Film Festival became the country’s largest event of its kind. It featured a diverse array of LGBTQ films from both local talents and international directors. Since its inception in 2001, the festival has encountered annual challenges, often requiring venue adjustments or the cancellation of specific screenings. Support from foreign embassies and careful management of social media play crucial roles in shielding the event from unwanted scrutiny.

Activism in disfavor

In the late 2000s and 2010s, China saw a rise in LGBT organizations. Among the largest were ShanghaiPRIDE and the Beijing LGBT Center, based in major cities but offering support to communities nationwide.

In August 2020, ShanghaiPRIDE, the oldest organizer of annual LGBTQ events in China, suspended its activities. After 12 years of work — which included the challenge of hosting Pride events during COVID-19 lockdowns — the organization’s members decided to take a break, and its founder, Raymond Fan, left China. However, literal parades were never held: ShanghaiPRIDE focused on sports events, exhibitions, film screenings, lectures, parties, and even job fairs. These activities ran throughout the year, not just during Pride Month (June), and they attracted thousands of participants.

Like other major LGBTQ organizations, ShanghaiPRIDE avoided slogans that could be deemed political. Its main goal was to educate society about the fact that sexual minorities exist everywhere, and to help LGBTQ people themselves. However, even this approach did not shield activists from periodic persecution, leading them to hastily close exhibitions, cancel film screenings, or relocate events at the authorities’ demand. There were also difficulties in finding speakers: in a country where coming out is already an achievement for many, not everyone is willing to speak about it publicly.

ShanghaiPRIDE was just the first LGBT organization to close. The next was LGBT Rights Advocacy China, which operated from 2013. The organization’s staff lawyers filed strategic lawsuits in hopes of changing legislation. For example, in 2014, co-founder Yanhui Peng went to a clinic offering conversion electroshock therapy. LGBT Rights Advocacy China sued the clinic, and the court deemed conversion therapy illegal. Additionally, the organization successfully defended clients against workplace discrimination.

Even if these lawsuits failed to change laws, they fostered discussions in society and in state media. In the end, however, LGBT Rights Advocacy China had to close when one of its founders was detained and promised release only if the group ceased its activities. In 2023, the Beijing LGBT Center closed its doors. No government organization cited specific reasons as to why.

Smaller groups working to help LGBTQ people find it harder to survive because official registration is required for budget funding, and receiving money from foreign NGOs is now impossible. Nevertheless, it is these smaller groups that have proven more resilient. The authorities are even willing to allocate funds to some LGBTQ organizations that focus on addressing HIV/AIDS and other issues connected with men’s or women’s health. Such NGOs strive to avoid political statements and focus solely on their field of work.

Other groups have managed to remain active by keeping a low profile. TrueSelf, which helps queers find common ground with their families, was known until 2021 as PFLAG China — Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays. PFLAG is an international organization founded in Washington, and the Chinese group decided to change its name when it became clear that the authorities saw LGBT activism as Western influence. The organization removed potentially dangerous words like “lesbians” and “gays” and shifted its focus to education and assistance for teenagers.

“LGBT activists in China are well aware of the government’s views and strive to de-Westernize themselves,” says gender researcher Lin Sun. “Most activists I interact with are actually willing to collaborate with the government and do not intend to challenge its authority, but the space for activism is still shrinking.”

Universities have not escaped attention either. The most notable case occurred in May 2022 at Tsinghua University in Beijing. Two students laid out ten rainbow flags on a table in the campus supermarket with a note inviting others to take them. This was their way of marking the International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia, and Transphobia. A month later, the students were summoned for a discussion with university leadership. They were given a warning — one that was accompanied by the loss of their scholarships for six months. The university determined that the students had violated rules by distributing promotional materials without permission, thereby exerting harmful influence on others.

In China, there has been a longstanding effort to suppress rainbow flags, which are even banned from use on social media. Seen as a Western import, they are considered foreign to the country, much like activism itself is. Li Tian (pseudonym), a gay university professor in Guangzhou who believes that “authorities primarily target activists,” says:

“The rainbow flag and the very word ‘rainbow’ (kaihong) have become taboo within universities. On my faculty, students initiated a media project titled ‘Little Rainbow’ to share videos featuring children’s choirs. However, when they tried to promote this project on the faculty’s official account, the students had to rename it.”

The severe response witnessed at Tsinghua University surprised the public. A decade earlier, universities had a different attitude. At Sun Yat-sen University in 2012, there were no repercussions for displaying a large rainbow flag, even if only briefly, on the International Day Against Homophobia. Back then, the organizers were even portrayed sympathetically in the Global Times newspaper.

The online realm

China is widely known for its complex and expensive infrastructure for censoring online content. In April 2018, Sina and Weibo, China’s equivalent of Twitter and Facebook, simultaneously announced the deletion of posts related to homosexuality. They also started removing materials containing pornography and violent imagery as part of an attempt to create a “clean and healthy online space.” Users protested in digital form. Same-sex couples posted photos, parents shared about their relationships with their LGBTQ children, and many used rainbow emojis accompanied by hashtags like “I am gay,” “I am not a pervert,” and “I am not illegal.” After three days, Weibo’s management reversed the decision. Interestingly, People’s Daily emphasized the importance of diversity, condemned discrimination, and acknowledged the right of homosexuals to defend their rights, albeit while also stressing the importance of “social responsibility.” In July 2021, WeChat began purging content, and university LGBTQ groups with tens of thousands of subscribers were blocked and removed without warning.

Despite the crackdown, openness largely reigns on Xiaohongshu, China’s answer to Instagram. This social network is favored by trans people who share their experiences, and the platform does not censor their posts.

Dating apps for LGBTQ people are also extremely popular in China. There are separate services for lesbians and gays, led by Blued — the world’s largest gay dating app. Initially created as a replacement for Jack’d, an American service that lost popularity due to the government’s firewall, Blued is now used not only in China but also in Vietnam, India, and South Korea. The app’s audience exceeds 40 million people, surpassing the number of users on Grindr, the international gay dating app.

The app’s popularity is enhanced by the well-thought-out strategy of owner BlueCity, which also runs Lesdo, the largest service for lesbians in China. Officially, Blued focuses on men’s health and HIV prevention, and the service has even launched an online pharmacy and consultations. This, along with its avoidance of activist language, has allowed BlueCity to maintain a working relationship with the government despite being the country’s primary gay dating app.

BlueCity users can share photos and videos, but caution is advised. In 2017, another gay app, Zank, was blocked due to pornographic content. BlueCity’s owners monitor the news of the day closely and strive to adapt quickly. As a result, they had to abandon some services, such as BluedBaby, which helped gays and lesbians find surrogate mothers in the United States and Canada. This happened shortly after a scandal erupted in China involving an actress who found a surrogate mother in America.

Cool indifference

A 2013 study by Jiao Tong University (Shanghai) revealed that, out of 3,500 respondents, 58% considered homosexuality unacceptable. A similar finding from Pew Research showed that 57% of Chinese are unwilling to accept homosexuality. Conversely, in 2016, the UN Development Program surveyed 30,000 Chinese citizens and found that the majority do not view homosexuality or transgenderism as deviations (70%) and are against discrimination (60%).

According to UN researchers, Chinese society is undergoing a transitional state in which people are trying to define their attitudes, with younger generations being more tolerant towards LGBTQ people, especially in megacities.

However, much has changed since 2016, including in Chinese legislation. The latest major survey by Ipsos in 2021 recorded 43% support the legalization of same-sex marriage, while another 20% believe that same-sex couples should be legally recognized in some other way. And yet, no more than 36% approve of open LGBTQ behaviors, even if gender researcher Lin Sun notes that the younger generation of Chinese is very tolerant — even supportive — of the LGBTQ community.

Currently, Chinese people are more likely to express tolerant indifference towards LGBTQ people, even if more hostile exceptions of course exist. Crimes based on homo- or transphobia are rare in China. Fake dating setups, in which homosexuals or trans people are attacked upon meeting, are also uncommon. This is partly thanks to the government’s lack of aggressive rhetoric against the LGBTQ community — this despite the authorities’ fight against the threat of “effeminate” men and openly outspoken activists. Unlike in Russia, in China officials and media do not portray LGBTQ people as enemies. Professor Li Ityan agrees that the level of aggressive homophobia in the country is low:

“In China, gay men using dating apps do not fear encountering police or homophobes. Personally, I have never heard of such cases. I myself used these apps when I was in university.”

Still LGBTQ individuals in China often fear dismissal from their jobs, and they therefore work to conceal their sexual orientation or identity. Li Ityan is no exception:

“All my close friends know that I’m gay. I wouldn’t say being in a relationship is difficult, but sometimes, when I’m with my partner, I worry that students or colleagues might see us. I don’t want gossip spreading at work because Chinese universities, according to the government’s agenda, are very homophobic. Although I believe some colleagues and many students are accepting of homosexuality, coming out at work would surely bring me problems. I could even be fired because of it.”

Gender non-conforming and transgender people, especially those who are well-known, more often become targets of bullying. Ballerina and TV presenter Jin Xin rarely emphasizes that she is a trans woman — one of the most successful in China. She does not consider herself an LGBTQ icon and has focused on her creative career instead. Only recently, in January 2024, Jin Xin appeared on stage with a rainbow flag bearing the inscription “Love is love, love and gender are unrelated.” Photos were quickly deleted from Weibo, but that wasn’t the end of it: critics accused Jin Xin of corrupting children and destroying traditional marriage. As a result, the star stopped discussing LGBTQ topics altogether.

Such a strategy appeals to the Chinese authorities, who adhere to the principle of “do not support, do not encourage, do not condemn.” Despite occasional sympathetic portrayals in the media towards LGBTQ people, the usual message remains clear: the community will not be bothered so long as it keeps a low profile.

The LGBTQ community will not be bothered if it keeps a low profile

This is affirmed by statements from Chinese officials. In 2018, at a UN Human Rights Council meeting, Deputy Foreign Minister Le Yucheng assured all present that China protects LGBTQ rights, respects private life, and permits gender reassignment surgeries, but due to historical, cultural, and value-related factors, it continues to recognize marriage only between a man and a woman.

And less tolerant attitudes are easy enough to find. The former editor of the state newspaper Global Times, Hu Sijingwho, who is often compared to the outrageous Russian propagandist Dmitry Kiselyov, wrote that Chinese “conservatism is inevitable and justified.” Therefore, according to Hu, if it wished to to avoid tension, the LGBTQ community should not try to become a “popular ideology.” He also noted that sexual minorities primarily suffer discrimination from their families. Sadly, on this final point, he is largely correct.

Fear of family

Exhibiting tolerance in the abstract is often easier than accepting that a close relative has come out as a member of the LGBTQ community, and families remain the least tolerant environment for sexual minorities in China, with 57% of survey respondents saying they are unwilling to accept a queer family member. Unsurprisingly, only 15% of LGBTQ people have decided to disclose their orientation or identity to their families. When they do, many encounter rejection. The Insider’s interviewee, Li Ityan, was only able to come out to his mother.

“I’ve been in a relationship for two years now. In my family, I’ve only come out to my mom, while my dad and other relatives know nothing about my orientation. My mom supports my relationship, but my partner’s parents refuse to accept the fact that their son has a boyfriend. He met my mother, but I’ve never met his parents, to whom he came out many years ago.”

Even if the family knows everything, LGBTQ people are often expected to marry opposite sex partners for appearance’s sake — even if not to continue the family line. Often enough, a gay man will marry a lesbian, and to facilitate such matches, a special website has been launched in China.

In a patriarchal society, parental pressure can be very strong because parents wield significant authority, even over adult children. According to The Insider’s interviewee Zhao Qin:

“The parents of an adult lesbian who studied in Australia learned about her orientation and forced her to return to China. They locked her up at home and prevented her from communicating with other people, and the police did nothing because ‘they are her parents’.”

Sometimes, relatives compel LGBTQ family members to undergo psychotherapy or conversion therapy, despite its prohibition. Trans people are especially frequently subjected to such “treatments.” Out of 1,640 gender non-conforming and trans people surveyed by the Beijing LGBT Center in 2017, only six had not experienced domestic violence. Unlike homosexuality, gender dysphoria remains classified as a mental disorder in China, further exacerbating its stigma.

Strict requirements govern transgender transition and document changes. A person must be over 18 years old, obtain parental permission, not be married, and have no criminal record. Even if all criteria are met, a minimum of one year of psychotherapy is required before approval for surgery and hormone treatment can be received. However, after transition, individuals can live peacefully and start a family, provided their relatives do not interfere.

Those unable to undergo surgical transition often run away from home, aided by other LGBTQ people. Such assistance can be dangerous: in June 2023, a transgender woman sheltered a runaway teenager from their parents, but was sentenced to two and a half years in prison for “group licentiousness” — engaging in sexual activity with three or more people.

A transgender woman still residing in China, a friend of Zhao Qin, was also arrested on false accusations of “group licentiousness,” as any “sexual deviation” can lead to arrest if the police so desire, even if it involves consensual sex. Her transphobic parents framed her because they believe that prison would somehow cure her of being transgender.

Zhao Qin, a lesbian, revealed her orientation to a few close friends. Opening up to her parents proved more challenging:

“In 2021, I accidentally came out to my parents during an argument. I couldn’t keep it hidden any longer, so I decided to be honest with them. Despite their ongoing homophobia, they had to come to terms with the fact that I love women and won’t marry a man.”

In a legal twist, same-sex couples have found a practical workaround: they can register as each other’s legal guardians. Originally intended for elder care, this guardianship law has been creatively utilized by lawyers to benefit gays and lesbians. Now, if one partner becomes incapacitated, the other can make critical decisions on their behalf.

Since the onset of the coronavirus pandemic, couples in China have been able to marry in the American state of Utah without leaving their homes, using Zoom. This option has been utilized by numerous Chinese same-sex couples. While these ceremonies are mostly symbolic, they do offer official recognition from another jurisdiction. Currently, such avenues and urban subcultures are the primary recourse for couples who prefer not to relocate to more liberal Hong Kong.

Despite the political climate, experts assure that LGBTQ people are living more peacefully than they were twenty or thirty years ago. The Chinese community has not only learned to survive, but also to flourish by adeptly navigating censorship. In cities like Shanghai or Chengdu, known for their progressive atmosphere, homosexual couples confidently frequent tea houses, proudly displaying their relationships. There is optimism that societal attitudes elsewhere will evolve, bolstered by local events encouraging society as a whole to better understand sexual minorities and their place in China.

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In the spring of 2024, the Russian Society of Psychiatrists proposed new clinical guidelines for the treatment of pediatric autism. If the changes are adopted, starting in 2025 all Russian doctors will be required to prescribe haloperidol to children diagnosed with autism. The drug is ineffective for treatment and has many side effects, experts warn. It is expected that, once the new system is introduced, autism will be diagnosed even less frequently in Russia — it is already diagnosed tens of times less frequently than in the United States — and autistic children will be deprived of chances for social adaptation. Both tutors and parents of children with autism fear that the new initiative will result in the exclusion of special-needs children from society.

The Insider

The diagnosis of autism spectrum disorders (ASD) in Russia has improved in recent years, with the parent community learning to fight for the health of their children. As of 2022, approximately 50,000 Russian children carried a diagnosis of autism, and their treatment and care were increasingly incorporating and adapting cutting-edge Western methods. Today, however, that progress is under attack, as the Russian Society of Psychiatrists (RSP) has proposed new clinical guidelines for the treatment of pediatric autism.

If the Ministry of Health adopts them, modern approaches will give way to Soviet-era methods — specifically, the use of a potent first-generation neuroleptic called haloperidol (also sold under the brand name Haldol). Adherents of modern behavioral management therapy approaches for ASD condemn these recommendations, calling them “medieval” and comparing them to treating mental disorders with lobotomies. What is even worse, starting from 2025, the Ministry of Health’s clinical guidelines will become mandatory for all medical professionals in Russia.

Even before the new regime goes into effect, the human cost of Kremlin policy is already being felt. In April 2024, the Denisovs (their name has been changed), a young family raising a child with ASD in the north of central Russia, were granted a place in a special rehabilitation center in a neighboring region. A few days before the trip, they were shocked to learn that the invitation had been postponed until at least the summer — the facility had to accommodate children from nearby Belgorod, a city close to the Ukrainian border that had been under frequent missile and drone attacks. How long these displaced children will remain at the facility is unknown, and in the meantime, the Denisovs’ child may be missing a critical window for development. The age of three is a very important threshold, as many children with autism experience a sharp setback in progress at this age, failing to master many of the new skills their neurotypical peers learn. This is why it is important to begin using Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA) techniques as early as possible.

In Russia, this approach forms an integral part of so-called “resource classes,” which provide more individualized assistance to children with autism by engaging special tutors. In one of Siberia’s major cities, the local parent community had been pushing for the creation of resource classes for years before finally achieving success. The new clinical guidelines may now reduce their hard-fought accomplishments to naught.

“At first we thought it was fake news,” said Oksana (her name has been changed), an activist and the mother of a child with autism. “Because this is obscurantism — like treating neurasthenia with a dip in the water.”

Oksana paints a bleak outlook for parents who are not yet aware of their child’s diagnosis:

“All a psychiatrist or a neurologist has to do [under the new guidelines] is to prescribe neuroleptics for the child and send the family home. Under current clinical guidelines, doctors would at least recommend ABA therapy and resource classes to dumbfounded parents. Mothers and fathers then googled these terms, found their local parent communities and relevant NGOs, and explored the nuances of modern methods on their own.”

A private child psychiatrist who agreed to speak to The Insider anonymously criticizes the use of drug therapy with haloperidol when used as the primary treatment for ASD:

“The worst thing about treating [autism] with haloperidol is that it is ineffective. A drug must target a specific symptom. In the case of antipsychotics for ASD, it’s aggression. However, there is insufficient evidence that haloperidol helps with aggression in children with ASD — while its side effects are pronounced.”

Again, the Denisovs demonstrate the human cost: “All parents of ‘special’ children want to make sure their children do not rot in a psychiatric home after they die. They want their children to be able to manage on their own. The new law would make it impossible to even dream of such a thing,” says the father of the autistic child whose rehabilitation has been put on hold.

What’s wrong with the new clinical guidelines?

One of the most detailed dissections of the RSP’s new clinical guidelines was offered by psychiatrist Stepan Krasnoshchekov, who studied under Professor Igor Makarov, a co-author of the proposal. Krasnoshchekov even points out that his former supervisor contradicts himself. While the RSP document asserts that children with autism do not undergo any period of normal development preceding a setback, Makarov writes in an academic paper co-authored with Krasnoshchekov that 30% of children with ASD do in fact experience such a phase.

Krasnoshchekov criticizes RSP experts for poor use of terminology, arbitrary judgments, and unsubstantiated statements. For example, RSP psychiatrists describe children with Asperger’s syndrome (a type of ASD) as “clumsy.”

Finally, the RSP authors’ recommendation of haloperidol is based on a single study from 1984, meaning that the work is irrelevant by modern medical standards. The authors claim that the drug has no side effects — this despite the fact that even the outdated study they cite describes multiple. In addition, the authors cite two studies aiming to prove the benefits of another antipsychotic, olanzapine, based on a minimal sample of subjects: 12 and 11 patients.

The RSP authors recommend haloperidol based on a single 1984 study

Psychotherapist Ivan Martynikhin suggested that, if the new guidelines are adopted, doctors who are aware of the efficacy of ABA therapy will simply stop diagnosing autism on paper. After all, officially ignoring the medical reality may be the only way for doctors to avoid prescribing haloperidol to their patients.

Why adopt new guidelines in the first place?

The current guidelines were authored by Russia’s Association of Psychiatrists and Psychologists (APsyP). Updated last year, the clinical guidelines continue to promote behavioral analysis and were created in collaboration with parents raising children with autism. It appears that the new guidelines stem from the rivalry between the RSP and APsyP. Practicing child psychologists refer to the authors of the new clinical guidelines as the “Leningrad School of Psychiatry,” which is said to question the very notion of the autism spectrum.

Among the authors of the new guidelines are Vladimir Pashkovsky, MD, a professor at St. Petersburg State University, and the aforementioned Igor Makarov. In their papers and interviews, both professors directly link autism to mental retardation and schizophrenia (hence the suggestion to use haloperidol, a drug traditionally prescribed to schizophrenic patients) and condemn the modern trend for “overdiagnosis of autism.” In particular, Makarov states that American psychiatrists “invented” the autism spectrum and began to categorize children with mental retardation and speech developmental delays as autistic (the progressive approach to ASD suggests that these issues are only isolated symptoms of autism). Professor Pashkovsky seeks to create an “original approach” within Russian psychiatry, one meant to set it apart from “concepts borrowed from American psychiatric journals.”

Lena Urdina, child psychiatrist and the author of the Telegram channel No Stigma, jokingly said in a conversation with The Insider that, if the RSP’s new clinical guidelines are approved, she would also be against “overdiagnosing ASD,” as all children with autism would then be put at risk of being “treated” with haloperidol. She continued:

“Russia’s healthcare system appears to follow the principle of discouraging patients from seeking medical advice and encouraging them to quietly die at home, without occupying a hospital bed. Mental health care was once provided to people who were deemed ‘dangerous’ to society. People who experienced ‘vital suffering’ were more likely to seek psychotherapy than psychiatry.

“In a sense, public psychiatric care is moving back to its roots. An individual’s behavioral and quality-of-life issues have once again been devalued and are no longer considered important. Nevertheless, I believe that Russia is not a separate civilization, but a part of the general human population. In the United States, autism is diagnosed in every 36th child (about 20 times as often as in Russia).”

Russia’s healthcare system appears to follow the principle of discouraging patients from seeking medical advice

The organization “Anton Tut Ryadom,” a St. Petersburg charity working with people with autism, expects Russia’s Ministry of Healthcare to decide on the new guidelines in June.

Is it about cutting costs?

“There is not a lot of public money to be saved by cutting support for children with autism, especially considering how limited the funding is,” Oksana says, citing her colleagues’ opinions. “In 2022, all major organizations that previously enjoyed stable funding stopped winning presidential grants for resource classes, and all the burdens of providing tutors are gradually falling on the parents’ shoulders.”

Meanwhile, 11% of the 4.3 billion rubles (approximately $48 million) distributed in the first round of presidential grants in 2023 were allocated to 210 projects of purely patriotic and militaristic orientation, with a particularly dramatic increase in funding for projects to train teenagers to pilot UAVs.

Oksana struggles to understand the benefits of cutting costs in the sphere of treatment for autism: “If the state wants a child with autism locked up at home, that means the mother will also be forced to stay home, rather than joining the workforce, which is in short supply.”

Activist Ulyana, interviewed by The Insider, suggested that any deviation from the conventional norm is not welcomed by the Russian state:

“In the USSR, people with mental peculiarities were kept out of sight, in their homes or care facilities. But we do our best to socialize because people with autism are also people. Thanks to our efforts, society has long since realized that yelling at a child with autism on a playground is not normal, and neither is confining ASD patients in psychiatric homes. Perhaps some old-school psychiatrists feel nostalgic about Soviet times, when you could give a child a pill and they would lie like a vegetable without causing any ruckus.”

You could give a child a pill and they would lie like a vegetable without causing any ruckus

Elena (name changed), a professional mentor for children with autism, told The Insider that the authors of the new guidelines may not be aware of the benefits and principles of ABA therapy:

“We were all astounded, because previous guidelines prescribed applied behavior analysis, while the new ones are aimed at introducing mostly medication-based methods with questionable efficacy. ABA therapy is completely transparent in comparison, as it measures every achievement.”

The essentials of ABA therapy and resource classes

Applied Behavioral Analysis was pioneered in the 1980s at UCLA by a group of researchers led by clinical psychologist Dr. Ole Ivar Lovaas. Studies of ABA therapy demonstrate that observed children show significant improvements in intellectual ability and communication skills, moderate increases in IQ scores, and partial progression in daily living skills. At the same time, autism-related symptoms are reduced.

At best, ABA therapy’s introduction into Russia was still in its early stages, and its most notable success story has come from that of the Voronezh Region, where children whose parents apply for a place in a resource class receive specialized tuition without delays. It is rumored that the reason the authorities in Voronezh are so attuned to the needs of children with autism is that the regional governor’s grandson was diagnosed with ASD.

In a resource class, each child is assisted by a designated tutor, who changes every few months. Each class is assigned a curator who assists the teacher and tutors. Gradually, the most able children with autism are smoothly integrated into a regular class alongside their neurotypical peers. First, the student is allowed to join the class for recess, then for simple subjects like music, physical education, or art. If the experience is positive, they can try sitting in on academic lessons for 10-15 minutes, gradually extending their presence to the full 40 minutes.

Elena, a practicing curator of resource classes, detailed the benefits children with autism might be deprived of if the RSP’s new guidelines come into effect:

“All data, the student’s every achievement, even the smallest one, is recorded and entered into a spreadsheet. A good specialist provides the parents with a diagram of the child’s achievements, detailing how many skills the child has learned over time. It is a very accessible and transparent method. In some cases, ABA does not work, but the reasons are usually medical, such as epileptic seizures. Usually, each child has a customized program with specific objectives: for example, they are expected to learn and pronounce five new words in three weeks. The tutor puts down a ‘plus’ or a ‘minus’ every day depending on whether they succeeded or not. If the student keeps failing, the curator analyzes the situation and changes techniques or cues. The tutor follows a list of specific skills the child needs to learn.”

For her part, Ulyana, the activist interviewed by The Insider and the mother of a child with autism, appreciates the universality of ABA therapy and believes that everyone can progress if given the right approach:

“We witness our children learn new skills, gain academic knowledge, and get the necessary socialization. ABA works on any child because it is based on universal laws of human behavior. The only difference is that children with autism need this approach to succeed, while ordinary children can make do without it.”

ABA therapy is based on fostering the reflexes necessary for functioning in society, Oksana explains:

“Parents cannot keep protecting their child from auto-aggression forever. Instead, the child has to realize that he shouldn’t commit self-harm. Our therapists mostly focus on making sure the children are safe and are able to fend for themselves. All programs are tailored to the needs of each student. For example, the child is offered cards illustrating several responses to a situation, and they must choose the right one.

“If the child does well in tests and assignments, they get a small token. Tokens can be exchanged for something nice, like a new toy or a favorite activity. Also, each student with autism may have triggers that interfere with learning, and not everyone can verbalize them, which means tutors have to figure out many things by trial and error.”

Sometimes children who can write with a pen at home fail to use their skills in the classroom. The tutor’s job is to take the student’s hand and re-teach them how to write. Tutors also offer cues: “It’s math now, so we get out the math book.” When a student with autism moves to a regular classroom, the tutor sits with the student for a while and helps them.

This system of assistance for children with autism is based on three integral roles: the tutor, who assists the child; the curator, who monitors and directs the process in the classroom; and the supervisor, who assigns individual programs to each child and resolves issues if something goes wrong in the learning process.

But if the new clinical guidelines are adopted, organizing resource classes could become more complicated, Ulyana warns:

“Funding for tutors is in jeopardy. This is the main problem we will face if applied behavior analysis ceases to be a state-approved method. In this case, children with autism will either be transferred to a regular classroom, which does not meet their needs, or will have to choose between homeschooling and a private educational center.”

Can emigration solve the problem?

“Among my friends and acquaintances who left the country after February 24 [2022], only one family has a child with autism, and I only know them casually,” Ulyana says. “I can afford to relocate. I can probably take care of the daily necessities in a new country. But I cannot organize a resource class with Russian-speaking children and therapists. Speech problems are the most common issue in autism, and changing the language environment would be too much for my son. Not everyone understands him in Russian either.

“Resource classes are the reason why we parents of children with autism are tied to our country. Some families in our community have EU residence permits but do not want to move because we have built a system of assistance for special-needs children from scratch. We can’t leave it all behind and recreate the same infrastructure in a new place.”

Psychiatrist Lena Urdina has compiled a list of the countries that parents of children with autism could consider if they are planning to emigrate.

1. Israel

Israel has inclusive schools and preschools with tutors, and the country provides adequate mental healthcare for children with autism.

2. Canada

The authors of the blog Autism Twice characterize the treatment of children with disabilities in Canada as “complete inclusivity”: doctors assist parents in registering their child with autism as disabled, and the child receives 20 hours of resource classes a week, plus sessions with a speech therapist and a daily living skills specialist. In addition, parents raising children with disabilities can apply for 16 hours of free babysitting a month.

3. Germany, the Netherlands, Finland, Poland, and the U.S.

These countries offer approximately the same level of assistance.

In the EU, parents of children with ASD may face problems with education in the Baltics and Bulgaria, where much depends on individual specialists.

The curator of resource classes interviewed by The Insider also cited Kazakhstan as an option: there, the state provides special classes for children with special developmental needs starting from preschool.

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