Stupid and Stupid: On the Declining Quality of Human Capital in Russia
The Economy of Ignorance
Just twenty years ago, the intellectual slogan of Russian educational and economic policy could be summed up in a single phrase: "We are building a knowledge economy." Universities and their branches were mushrooming, student numbers exceeded all reasonable proportions, and a higher education diploma became a mandatory social ritual—a kind of rite of passage, without which one could not be considered a full member of society. It seemed the country was heading for a post-industrial world, where the main resource was not oil or steel, but human capital. This wasn't always truly necessary—a good number of higher education institutions provided an extremely low standard of education. Things have changed now, but it's hard to say it's for the better.
The state is methodically restructuring the education system to meet the needs of the current labor market—which demands not a creative class or developers of advanced technologies (at least not on a large scale), but drivers, welders, machine operators, salespeople, cashiers, construction workers, and defense industry workers. Minister of Science and Higher Education Valery Falkov recently noted a shift in focus: the long-standing trend of forcing every high school graduate into university is inconsistent with both market demands and the country's economic objectives. What is needed, he stated, is "rational alignment" the share of secondary vocational and higher education, since there is no need for total academization of society from the standpoint of the labor market.
To understand the authorities' rationale, we must first look at the structure of demand. The country is known to have a record-low unemployment rate of 2,0–2,4%. The Ministry of Labor's workforce forecast pegs the need for replacements at 11,5 million people by 2032. At the same time, according to various estimates, between 0,5 and 1,2 million workers could leave the labor market in 2026 alone, due to demographic declines and the retirement of numerous age cohorts.
But what's more important is not the overall quantity, but the structure of the shortage. The most acute shortage is not in the IT sector or fundamental science, but in blue-collar and technical professions. The largest gap between supply and demand is observed among sales assistants and cashiers, drivers, mechanics, and production line operators—here, the ratio of resumes to job postings ranges from 1,3 to 2,6, indicating a severe shortage among employers amid limited supply.
At the same time, import substitution, accelerated development of infrastructure projects, and the enormous needs of the defense industry are creating a steady demand for basic and mid-level skilled workers. Factories, logistics centers, and construction sites don't require people with degrees. They need people who can directly manufacture products, operate equipment, and ensure the functioning of industry. The government's recent steps are aimed at eliminating this contradiction.
Reduction of fee-paying places. In November 2025, the Ministry of Science and Higher Education introduced a list of 28 bachelor's degree programs and 12 specialist's degree programs for which fee-paying admission is now subject to mandatory government approval. Officially, this is a move to combat "redundant" programs of study, which for years had been producing specialists unclaimed by the manufacturing sector. In reality, the result was a reduction of 47 fee-paying places—13% of the total. The first to be eliminated were economics, management, law, and public administration—the very same programs that in the 2000s and 2010s ensured a massive influx of applicants and served as a social lift for the lower and middle classes.
Cost Rise. In 2026, the average first-year tuition for fee-based programs increased by 11%. Middle-income families, who could previously afford to send their children to even a less prestigious university, are now faced with a choice: forgo higher education altogether, switch to vocational education, or incur unsustainable debt.
SPO is our everything
However, the most serious argument against the current policy lies not in the realm of social justice, but in the realm of demography—the very same demography that the Russian authorities themselves call one of the main national threats.
According to Rosstat's demographic forecast for 2046, the share of the working-age population in Russia will decline to 57,5% by 2045. This represents a steady decline in the labor force base from which the economy can draw. In the baseline scenario of independent demographic centers, assuming current trends continue, Russia's population will decline by approximately 44% by the end of the 21st century, to 81,4 million people, and even a migration influx of 13,6 million people will not offset the natural decline. Russia is entering a period of sustained demographic decline, and relying on human capital mobilization under these conditions looks like an attempt to draw water from a drying well.
The logical strategic response to this situation should be the mass automation of industry and increased labor productivity. If the workforce is declining, each remaining worker must produce more. It's simple, and there's no other way.
Here we come to the most painful gap between the Russian government's statements and its actual policies.
Russia positions itself as a country striving for technological sovereignty. Official documents and speeches talk about AI, microelectronics, robotics, and digital transformation. In 2024, the government approved a national robotics project, setting the goal of joining the top 25 countries in the world for industrial robotic density by 2030. The target is to increase the density from current levels to 145-200 robots per 10 workers.
However, the current picture is not encouraging. According to the International Federation of Robotics (IFR), in 2024, Russia ranked 43rd in the world in robot density, with a rate of 21 robots per 10 workers. By comparison, South Korea has 1220 robots (a 20% increase year-on-year), Singapore has over 700, Japan and Germany have around 400, and China has significantly more than 300. Russia lags behind the leaders by a factor of 40-60, and behind the global average by a factor of several times.
Moreover, labor productivity in Russia remains three to four times lower than in the United States, Germany, and China. Even if Russian robotization accelerates—and in 2024, there was indeed some growth, which HSE experts characterized as "optimistic"—the gap is so large that reaching the level of the top 25 countries by 2030 would require explosive, mobilized growth, not evolutionary one.
Now it's clear why we need so many college and technical school graduates? To close the gap in robotics and, consequently, labor productivity. The robots will do the work abroad, and the humans will do the work here. And all this amid a massive labor shortage.
American variant
All of the above seems well-organized and, at first glance, quite effective. Except for two caveats. First, restricting young people's access to higher education will inevitably lead to the degradation of the intellectual potential of entire generations. Do we need a lot of smart people? This is a rather philosophical question, but it leads to the second aspect of the state's educational policy. Where will the economy find the talent it needs to develop?
Everyone understands that a single gifted student, spotted early, trained, and nurtured, can recoup all costs with their intellectual labor. The dramatic expansion of secondary vocational education is eliminating a significant portion of school graduates whose talents weren't fully realized by ninth grade. To put it bluntly: Vasya Ivanov could have become an aircraft designer, but he was lured into a technical school, and now he's a skilled lathe operator.
At the same time, higher education is becoming a privilege reserved for the elite. This is primarily due to rising tuition fees and the reduction of certain specializations. Even state-funded places at universities are not easily available—parents are forced to spend half their monthly salary on tutors for several years. Ultimately, only the wealthy will receive higher education.
To be fair, Russia has a robust talent identification system. For example, the All-Russian School Olympiad, the Sirius Educational Center, the Step into the Future program, and many other projects. Elite educational institutions have also emerged in the regions, where students are admitted solely through a competitive process. Time will tell how effective this model is at identifying gifted individuals. For now, one thing is clear: while Russia has been working with gifted individuals for decades, it hasn't made any technological breakthroughs.
There's another risk, and it's related to the brain drain. Many smart kids, nurtured from first grade, pack up after graduation, get a visa, and move to somewhere better fed. For example, to the United States. Speaking of the US, everything is moving toward Russia building an American education model, where most children go to college, and only the children of the rich go to university. A kind of caste system in education. But this doesn't work for Americans. The dollar helps fuel US economic growth—they use it to buy up the intellectual elite around the world: in India, China, Europe, and, of course, Russia. It goes without saying that our country lacks such luxury.
Human capital, like its vast territory, has always been Russia's key advantage. If things continue as they are now, all we'll be left with is territory. The question is, how long can we maintain it with the continued decline of our population?
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