In recent years, Russian society has become increasingly atomized, characterized by widespread political apathy and disillusionment. This societal disintegration is a product of a deliberate governmental strategy to control and suppress civil society, combined with deep-seated mistrust in institutions, including the government itself. The phenomenon has reached the point where collective action—whether in support of or against the government—has all but evaporated. This political paralysis stems not only from the dismantling of civil society but also from the broader cultural condition of information relativism, when truth and facts are viewed as subjective, where multiple contradictory versions of reality are allowed to coexist without a clear standard for what is true or false.
This concept becomes especially relevant in environments where trust in institutions, media, or experts is low, and where there is a proliferation of conflicting narratives. In such contexts, facts become malleable, and the lines between truth and misinformation blur, leading to a society where “everyone has their own truth.”
In Russia, for example, the coexistence of multiple historical narratives and contradictory political messages from the government and opposition groups creates an environment of information relativism. This fosters cynicism, as people are less likely to believe any one source or accept a singular version of events, instead retreating into personal or group-specific interpretations of reality.
Over the past two decades, the Russian government has successfully dismantled the structures that once supported civil society. Laws restricting protest, the media’s total subservience to state interests, and the harsh repression of dissent have left Russian citizens isolated and unable to organize in meaningful ways. The result is a deeply fractured society, unable to unite around any common cause, whether that be opposition to the war or endorsement of government policies.
This atomization is best illustrated by the public’s indifferent response to the war in Ukraine. Despite the staggering human losses—estimates of Russian military casualties as of September 2024 suggest around 70,000 deaths—the public remains detached. The last official report of Russian casualties came from Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu in September 2022, when the number was placed at 5,937. Yet the revelation of the far higher death toll, which in any other country might spark massive protests or public outrage, has been met with stoic acceptance in Russia. Russian society seems unmoved, even willing to endure further sacrifices. As Karl Marx once observed, the isolated nature of Russian communities, with their lack of connection to a broader social structure, prevents them from initiating any significant historical or political movement.
Even the presence of Ukrainian troops on Russian soil, in regions such as the Kursk Oblast, has failed to stir the public. News about conscripts being forcibly sent to the frontlines—often under threats and violence—has generated virtually no reaction. In most post-industrial societies, such revelations would provoke large-scale anti-war demonstrations or deep distrust in the government, but in Russia, the atomization of society has left families to mourn in isolation. The tragedy of losing a son, husband, or father is experienced individually, with no horizontal social connections to foster a collective response. Even the prospect of further conscription and another round of mobilization dissolves into the numbness of Russian society. As many observers have noted, it seems as though the population has completely detached itself from the reality of the war.
However, this atomization and political apathy are not solely the products of state repression. Russia’s societal malaise is deeply rooted in cynicism toward authority and information relativism, where facts are manipulated and multiple, contradictory truths coexist. In the past 30 years, Russian citizens have developed a profound skepticism toward all sources of authority, including the government, media, and even experts.
One striking example of this is Russia’s high rate of anti-vaccine sentiment during the COVID-19 pandemic. Even during the height of the pandemic in the summer of 2021, only 30.4% of Russians supported COVID-19 vaccination. This placed Russia near the bottom of global rankings, trailing behind even several developing countries. For comparison, 64.6% of Americans, despite the strong anti-government sentiment among certain right-wing factions, supported vaccination.
This resistance to vaccination is not simply the result of ignorance or backwardness, as some might claim. Rather, it is a reflection of the hyper-critical attitude that many Russians have adopted toward all forms of authority. Research states that the distrust in government-led vaccination campaigns is not a rejection of science per se but a response to the perceived manipulation and inconsistency of the state’s messaging. The Russian government’s instrumental use of truth—particularly in matters of history and national identity—has created a society where multiple, often contradictory, truths coexist.
This relativism of information and mistrust in institutions in Russia are not confined to public health. It is a phenomenon that pervades the entire social and political landscape. Since the early 2000s, there has been an official emphasis on pragmatic approaches to truth, especially in the realm of history. Historical facts are valued only insofar as they serve the needs of propaganda or national interests. This has allowed for the coexistence of multiple, often contradictory, versions of Russian history.
For some, modern Russia represents the resurgence of a great civilization; for others, it is a nation that has failed in its historical mission or lost its cultural identity. Some see the collapse of the Soviet Union as the greatest geopolitical tragedy of the 20th century, while others view it as the downfall of a false ideology. These parallel realities have become the norm in Russian society, where different groups choose their own version of the truth based on their personal or ideological preferences.
This phenomenon has permeated every aspect of Russian life, from politics to everyday interactions. The belief that “everyone has their own truth” has made it psychologically comfortable for both the state and the people to live in a reality where conflicting moral, legal, and ideological judgments coexist. For a significant portion of the population, this ambiguity is not only tolerable but preferable, as it allows individuals to navigate a complex and often contradictory society without fully committing to any one version of reality.
This environment of cynicism toward authority has further entrenched political apathy. Russians, having grown accustomed to the manipulation of truth by the state, now trust almost no one. This widespread skepticism has drained society of the energy and will to mobilize for any cause, be it in support of or against the government. The indifference that characterized the public’s response to Prigozhin’s mutiny, the war, and other significant political events is symptomatic of a society that has lost faith in its ability to influence change.
Even the Kremlin seems to misjudge the depth of this societal disengagement. Following Prigozhin’s death, the state fed the public various misleading theories about the circumstances of his demise, expecting that such narratives would help manage potential unrest. However, no social wave emerged. The Russian public is so desensitized to political violence that even high-profile deaths are met with apathy. Whether it is the death of Prigozhin, Navalny, or any other figure, there is no longer any expectation of a mass outcry or a sense of escalating injustice.
In today’s Russia, the combination of extreme atomization, mistrust of institutions, and information relativism has left society politically paralyzed. Citizens are disconnected from each other and from any sense of collective purpose. The government has succeeded in neutralizing both civil society and public opposition, but this victory has come at the cost of creating a population that is indifferent to its own future.
Interestingly, this very atomization, with its low levels of trust and rampant individualism, may be the factor that prevents the rise of fascism in Russia. There is a saying in Russian: “Every cloud has a silver lining.” Nicholas Stargardt, in his book The German War: A Nation Under Arms, 1939-1945, describes how Germany in the 1920s was a country of grassroots collectivism and high levels of trust. This strong social fabric allowed Nazi propaganda to quickly take hold, as collectivist organizations easily transitioned into supporting national socialism. In contrast, modern Russian society, living by the principle of “every man for himself,” has no such social foundations. Atomization, while detrimental to democratic development, acts as a barrier to the rise of fascism or totalitarianism.
Thus, while Russia’s state of atomization and mistrust of institutions may seem bleak, it paradoxically provides some protection against the potential for far-right extremism or totalitarianism. In the absence of collective trust and cohesion, such ideologies struggle to take root, leaving Russia in a state of stagnation, but perhaps free from even darker futures.
