During the trial of physicist Oleg Kabov, it emerged that the criminal case had been initiated by two of his former students. One of them, after threatening Kabov, joined the FSB (Federal Security Service of Russia), after which the second student filed a denunciation against his former scientific supervisor. It also became clear that the embezzlement case lacked any financial evidence, and that the allegations regarding the falsification of Kabov’s scientific results had been manufactured by FSB officers. The prosecution is demanding a seven-year prison term, a significant fine, and a three-year prohibition on conducting scientific research. The defendant has asked the judge to reopen the investigation. The judge must now decide whether there is sufficient information to deliver a verdict or if the case should be sent back for further investigation.
Kabov is charged under Article 159 (Part 4) of the Criminal Code of the Russian Federation (fraud committed by an organized group or on an especially large scale). His trial has been proceeding for ten months. Only a few hearings remain before the verdict, with opportunities for statements from his defense attorney and scientific expert. Judge Gennady Gushchin does not hurry the proceedings, giving all parties the opportunity to speak. What has he learned over this time?
According to the prosecution, Oleg Kabov, a corresponding member of the Russian Academy of Sciences and head of the Laboratory for Heat Transfer Intensification at the Kutateladze Institute of Thermophysics, received a grant of 26,750,000 rubles (approximately $500,000–$750,000, based on the 2014 exchange rate) from the Ministry of Science to develop an experimental cooling unit for research purposes. However, investigators allege that he did not conduct the required work, falsified the project report, and used 7 million rubles ($130,000–$200,000) of the grant funds as performance bonuses for his subordinates—who, in turn, allegedly transferred the money back to him. In her statement, state prosecutor Yana Kuzmina asserted: “The laboratory’s efforts was not directed toward generating new knowledge; its primary goal was to build a positive reputation to secure as many additional grants, subsidies, and co-financing opportunities as possible.”
The investigation thus sought to prove that no new knowledge had been generated, determine how and by whom the research results were falsified in reports, and trace how the funds for the allegedly uncompleted project ultimately reached Kabov. Kabov has denied all charges. He maintains that the unit was completed, the scientific results were significant, the project achieved its goals, and the laboratory staff lawfully received their earnings—none of which, he insists, ended up in his possession.
The central charge against Kabov is the alleged embezzlement of 7 million rubles in performance bonuses through deception, which, according to investigators, was carried out by falsifying project reports. Without the accusation of report falsification, there would be no case against him. Failure to develop an experimental setup, generate new knowledge, or conduct genuine scientific research would, at most, result in dismissal. Fabricating scientific results leads to the retraction of publications from academic journals. But misappropriating funds leads to prison.
However, during most of the hearings, Judge Gushchin had to determine whether the experimental cooling unit could be considered as having been created at all. If it had not been operational, then all the scientific results obtained in the course of its development and subsequent research conducted on it could be deemed invalid, and the project — failed. In that case, the bonus for this project would have been illegally obtained — not only by Kabov but by the entire laboratory staff. Yet only Kabov is facing charges, not his subordinates. This means the prosecution had to prove that Kabov misappropriated the funds alone. And that’s where things get interesting.
Neither in the investigation materials nor in court did a single person, when questioned, say: “Yes, I received a bonus for a scientific project and transferred a certain amount to Kabov.” Moreover, aside from the institute director’s orders authorizing the bonuses, the case file lacks any payment records confirming the distribution of these bonuses, no bank transfer documents, and no testimony about cash being handed over in an envelope. There is not a single financial document or oral statement explaining how these 7 million rubles first reached Kabov’s subordinates and then Kabov himself.
The investigator did not present this evidence, the prosecutor did not request it, and the judge showed no interest in it either. In other words, in a criminal case concerning the embezzlement of a large sum, the question of how exactly the money was allegedly embezzled was never addressed. The 26 volumes of the case contain no “traces” of the missing funds. Perhaps that is because, in this case, the money itself is not the real issue. What is, then? To answer this, we must return to the question that arose at the very beginning of the trial: why did an investigator from the Novosibirsk branch of the FSB take an interest in an old R&D report?
How the Kabov Case Arose
The answer to this question can be found in the investigative materials. The case against Kabov began with a denunciation by his former graduate student. In October 2018, Karapet Eloyan, a former graduate student under Kabov, informed E.V. Folchanov, an FSB operative in the Novosibirsk region, that no experimental setup had been created as part of the federally funded scientific project No. 14.613.21.0011, conducted in 2014—2016.
It is difficult to imagine why the absence of such a setup — essentially a research apparatus for experimental studies — at one of the numerous academic institutes in Novosibirsk would so strongly interest an FSB officer that he immediately initiated investigative actions. However, there was a reason: by that time, another of Kabov’s co-authors and a former employee of his laboratory, Alexei Kreta, had already joined the Novosibirsk branch of the FSB. In 2017, he had left the lab following a dispute with Kabov, vowing to return to the institute — but in a very different role. (Both Kreta and Kabov confirmed the conflict in court testimony.)
Karapet Eloyan came to Kabov’s laboratory in September 2016, when the R&D work was already being finalized. Since he was a graduate student during the day and worked in the lab for only two hours a week at (5% part-time), key staff members were not involve him in the finalizing project — only in some simple experiments. So Eloyan found himself in the same lab with Kreta, who had earlier studied with him in the same department, but a year older. Eloyan worked under Kabov for three years, and in January 2019, he moved to another lab before filing a complaint with the FSB.
In the trial, Eloyan and Kreta, who knew each other well and shared scientific publications, appeared as witnesses on the prosecution side. Eloyan claimed that the scientific result was not achieved, Kreta claimed that money was extorted from him. Many employees of the institute knew that Kreta had threatened Kabov. But there are practically no versions, why Eloyan decided to destroy the professional reputation of his scientific supervisor. All the employees interviewed by T-invariant see it as a psychological background and a clash of ambitions. There are also no versions of why Judge Gushchin preferred to delve as thoroughly as possible into the intricacies of the two-phase cooling system and not dwell at all on the question of how and when Kabov tried to get money from Kreta.
Karapet Eloyan joined Kabov’s laboratory in September 2016, when the R&D work was already nearing completion. Since he was a graduate student during the day and worked in the lab for only two hours a week (at a 5% part-time position), key staff members did not involve him in the final stages of the project — only in a few simple experiments. This is how Eloyan ended up in the same lab as Kreta, who had studied in the same department but was a year ahead of him. Eloyan worked under Kabov for three years, and in January 2019, he moved to another lab and later reported him to the FSB.
During the trial, Eloyan and Kreta — who knew each other well and had co-authored scientific publications — testified as prosecution witnesses. Eloyan claimed that the scientific result had not been achieved, while Kreta alleged that he had been extorted for money. Many institute employees were aware that Kreta had threatened Kabov. However, there are almost no theories as to why Eloyan chose to ruin the professional reputation of his scientific supervisor. All employees interviewed by T-invariant see this as a psychological issue and a clash of ambitions. There are also no explanations for why Judge Gushchin took such a deep interest in the technical details of the two-phase cooling system while entirely avoiding the question of how and when Kabov allegedly attempted to obtain money from Kreta.
What emerges from the investigation materials and court hearings is that the Kabov case is rooted in personal animosity: one of the scientist’s former co-authors wrote a denunciation against him, while another ensured that the FSB did not ignore it. Yet in this case, the judge did not focus on the relationship between these two witnesses and the defendant but instead chose to delve into the intricacies of cooling systems.
However, the list of “co-authors” of Kabov’s case is not limited to these two.
How the Physical Evidence Was Falsified
What was the basis for Eloyan’s claim that the experimental prototype was non-functional? How did he explain this to the FSB officer? He stated that, “according to my scientific and applied knowledge” (as written in his testimony), the experimental setup could not operate without being connected to a steam generator and a round working section, which, according to Eloyan, were stored in the institute’s basement. And since they were gathering dust there, he concluded that the prototype was non-operational.
Further, FSB officers E.V. Folchanov and E.N. Alganov, together with Eloyan, go to the same basement and seize the steam generator and the circular working section.
Then, at the request of the FSB officers, Eloyan secretly records his conversations with laboratory employee Zaitsev, trying to find out why these components ended up in the basement. In the audio recording included in the case materials, Zaitsev explains to Eloyan that during the experiments, the physicists decided to abandon the steam generator and the circular working section, as they had found a more efficient and cost-effective way to operate the experimental setup. Instead of a circular working section, they used a square one. However, since Eloyan only visited the laboratory once a week, he was simply unaware of this decision.
In other words, at the investigative stage, operatives Folchanov and Alganov were already aware that the presence of the steam generator in the basement did not determine whether the experimental setup had been created, because it was functional without the steam generator. Nevertheless, they chose not to consider Zaitsev’s explanation. Instead, they drew up a search report for Room 29 on the basement floor of the Institute of Thermophysics of the Siberian Branch of the Russian Academy of Sciences, stating that the purpose was “to identify and seize items and documents providing evidence of the failure to implement Project No. 2014-14-585-0011.”
At the same time, another of experimental equipment was found there, which is also recorded in the protocol. But for some reason they decided not to seize it, and not to take photos and videos of the found and seized items. Although this was precisely the experimental setup in question. And if the operative officers had simply done their job properly — seizing everything, taking pictures, and handing it over to the investigator — the case could be closed there. But they gave investigator Zderev only those parts and details that had nothing to do with the real final experimental setup. Zderev, in turn, decided to initiate a criminal case and enlist experts who would become the new ‘co-authors’ of the Kabov case.
How the results of scientific activity were falsified
After the case was initiated, Zderev repeated the search in the same Room 29 of the Institute of Thermophysics, during which he seized individual components of the experimental setup. However, he did not reflect it in the search report, did not photograph these components, and did not recognize them as material evidences in the case. The parts seized during the repeated search, together with the parts given to him by Folchanov and Alganov, the investigator submitted for forensic examination to candidate of economic sciences Elena Berezina and doctor of physical and mathematical sciences Ivan Chernov.
An economist and a materials scientist — specialists in fields far removed from thermophysics — examined the components provided to them and concluded that the set of disparate individual parts constituted the experimental setup itself. However, they deemed it incomplete, non-functional, and, therefore, non-existent. It was these two experts who determined that the scientific project was 37.76% complete. They applied an “expert methodology” previously used in other criminal cases, including investigations into large-scale embezzlement schemes in universities.
“When I read the expert report by Chernov and Berezina, I was horrified and realized that I had to look into this case,” says Doctor of Technical Sciences Bulat Nigmatullin. “At the request of Kabov’s lawyer, Gennady Shishebarov, I conducted an expert review of their report. I found Berezina’s dissertation on industrial clusters in the light manufacturing sector. I examined Chernov’s work on materials science and could not comprehend how they could presume to evaluate research in a field entirely outside their expertise. They violated the principle of scientific validity. I contacted my colleagues at MEPhI, where Chernov works, hoping they could arrange a meeting. I wanted to look him in the eye. But, of course, he refused to meet me.”
Despite Kabov’s defense insisting that the experts be questioned in court, neither Berezina nor Chernov appeared in Novosibirsk, nor did they join the proceedings online, citing a business trip and illness. Their reluctance is understandable: otherwise, they would have had to explain why they violated the federal laws “On Science and State Scientific and Technical Policy” and “On State Forensic Expert Activity in the Russian Federation,” which explicitly regulate how such expert evaluations must be conducted.
For instance, to determine whether the experimental setup had been created, Chernov should have examined the existing installation at the institute. Instead, he inspected a handful of individual parts, assessed their “technical condition” (as stated in the expert report), and classified them as an incomplete, non-functional setup.
In his closing statement in court, Oleg Kabov described Chernov’s approach as follows: “This is akin to an expert examining the ‘technical condition’ of a single wheel and a few scattered car parts — washers, metal plates, small cylinders, tiny bolts — and concluding that he is looking at a Moskvich-412 that cannot be used as intended due to its unsatisfactory ‘technical condition.’”
Another critically important example of misconduct in the expert evaluation process is the misrepresentation of the term “work.” To assess the results of the research project, Investigator Zderev commissioned a forensic product evaluation. The first question posed to the experts was: What is the actual volume of work completed under the grant? This is where two fundamentally different perspectives collide. In the scientific community, the term “work” refers to the product of a researcher’s activity — an intellectual contribution or scientific result. (Hence the standard phrase: “In the groundbreaking work of Dr. N in [year], it was demonstrated that…”) However, in the context of business and financial oversight, “work” can be understood as a process of labor, leading to interpretations such as “insufficient work was performed.” To prevent such ambiguity, the Federal Law “On Science and State Scientific and Technical Policy” explicitly defines a scientific and/or scientific-technical result as “a product of scientific and/or scientific-technical activity that contains new knowledge or solutions and is recorded on any information medium.” Kabov’s laboratory reported its results to the Ministry of Science based on this definition.
However, when expert Berezina assessed Kabov’s applied scientific research, she interpreted the term “work” exclusively as a process of labor, disregarding the actual results of the researchers’ efforts—the new knowledge and innovative solutions generated during the project. These results were documented in 26 scientific publications, five patents, numerous conference presentations, defended dissertations, and ultimately in the experimental installation itself. As Kabov wryly noted in his final speech, “By evaluating only the process of labor, the expert neglected to evaluate the outcome of that labor.” Why, then, was this distinction not clarified during the investigation but only brought up during the trial, when Judge Gushchin heard the defense’s arguments, Kabov’s own testimony, and watched a video of the functioning setup, shown to him right there in the courtroom?
Apparently, the reason is that the FSB initially saw Kabov’s case as a case “about money” misappropriated from the state, but when no financial trail was found during the investigation, it turned into a case “about a non-existent installation.” As a result, early on, investigators and law enforcement officers paid little attention to properly substantiating claims regarding the prototype itself, conducting improper seizure of its components and collection of physical evidence, focusing instead on trying to uncover a financial scheme involving kickbacks or embezzlement. But by the time this approach failed, it was too late to change course. Later, when the originally alleged embezzlement sum of 26,750,000 rubles for the entire research project was reduced to 7 million rubles in salary bonuses, the new objective became proving that even these 7 million rubles had been obtained illegally —on the grounds that the project had failed. And so, the case suddenly required new co-authors: the so-called “non-thermophysics” experts.
Kabov’s No Empty Talk
For three years now, since the criminal case against Kabov was initiated, many scientists have expressed indignation that the investigation never sought expert assessment of his R&D from specialists in the field. Despite repeated statements from colleagues about the significance of Kabov’s work, the authorities have ignored expert assessments. In response to a request from the defense, several prominent scientists came forward, including the Russian Academy of Sciences’ (RAS) Department of Energy, Mechanical Engineering, Mechanics, and Control Processes, which issued an expert opinion. In their conclusion, the academicians highly praised Kabov’s project, stating: “Thanks to the completion of this project, Russian scientists have joined the ranks of global leaders in this field. A new scientific concept for enhancing heat transfer intensity was formulated and substantiated, including a methodology for its implementation. The results have been recognized by the international scientific community. As evidence, the authors of the project were invited to contribute a review article for the Annual Review of Fluid Mechanics, the top-ranked journal in the field of fluid and gas mechanics.”
Nevertheless, the FSB neither sought expert analysis from the RAS nor consulted thermal physics specialists. Perhaps because none of the experts they trust happen to be thermal physicists? Or do the security services suspect all thermal physicists worldwide of promoting corporate interests? Perhaps both. In any case, the intelligence agencies decided they could proceed without input from specialists. And perhaps they could have — if the criminal case against Kabov had one more “co-author”: artificial intelligence.
“If the investigators and appointed experts had truly aimed to evaluate Kabov’s work under the Ministry’s grant rather than to dismiss it outright, they could have figured out the nature of the scientific breakthrough themselves,” says physicist Andrey Rostovtsev, co-founder of Dissernet. “They can ignore the opinions of leading thermal physicists who provided expert assessments of Kabov’s research. They can suspect everyone of collusion. But it’s hard to accuse artificial intelligence of conspiracy with Kabov. There exists a relatively new AI-based product — Nature Research Intelligence. This service, hosted by Nature, one of the world’s leading scientific publishers, has compiled 30,000 mini-reviews on major scientific advancements. Among them is a mini-review titled “Falling Liquid Film Dynamics and Heat Transfer”, which highlights the world-class achievements of the Novosibirsk research team led by RAS Corresponding Member O.A. Kabov. If Chernov and Berezina had not been fixated on isolated technical components of the experimental installation — components that meant nothing to them — or on counting how much time was spent on various tasks, but had instead known how to ask the right questions, they would have understood what exactly Kabov accomplished,” Rostovtsev continues. “The fact is that the performance of next-generation electronics is increasingly constrained by temperature due to the emergence of ‘hot spots,’ where local heat flux exceeds 1000 W/cm². How can this technological problem be addressed? Heat pipes combined with fans can dissipate around 200 W/cm². Single-phase heat exchangers, which use high-speed gas or liquid flow, can handle heat flux densities of up to 300 W/cm² — but that is still insufficient. It was then that Kabov’s laboratory developed an experimental apparatus to study processes occurring in two-phase heat exchangers at the liquid-gas interface, ultimately overcoming this technological barrier.”
It was this very setup that the FSB, its experts, and subsequently the prosecutor deemed “nonexistent.”
“The key phenomenon here is the formation of wave patterns on the surface of a thin liquid film with air flowing over it,” Rostovtsev explains. “The mechanism of wave formation is similar to what is observed at sea. However, in a thin liquid layer, the regions between wave crests exhibit intense heat dissipation. On the so-called ‘nonexistent’ experimental stand, wave formation dynamics were recorded using a high-speed camera. The second crucial phenomenon is the formation of rupture zones in the thin liquid film. At the interface between the wetted solid surface and the liquid-gas boundary, anomalously intense evaporation occurs. This effect is similar to the discharge of electric charge from pointed surfaces (St. Elmo’s fire). It turns out that heat dissipation at the rupture line is about five times higher than across the entire surface of the thin liquid layer.”
The dynamics of these “dry spots” were thoroughly studied in one of the key outcomes of Kabov’s laboratory: the dissertation of Dmitry Kochkin, defended in 2023 under Kabov’s supervision.
“To be fair, similar technological challenges were being addressed in the West through refrigerant boiling and the formation of large vapor bubbles, which is also a two-phase approach,” Rostovtsev notes. “However, achieving comparable results required pumping enormous volumes of liquid at high pressure through complex heat exchanger configurations. That’s not the only difference between the ‘Western’ approach and the Novosibirsk scientists’ method. But what is undeniable is that the cost of the ‘Western’ solution is orders of magnitude higher than the relatively modest government grant of 26,750,000 rubles allocated to the Institute of Thermal Physics for this research project.”
This was the argument that numerous colleagues of Kabov tried to convey to the investigators throughout the case. But they were not heard, and artificial intelligence was never even consulted.
How Investigation Materials Were Manipulated
In August 2023, employees of the Institute of Thermal Physics restored the disassembled experimental setup and recorded its operation on video.
In December 2023, investigator Andreev, who had taken over the case from his colleague Zderev, sent request 10/32607 dated 29.12.2023 to the Institute of Thermal Physics, asking for “information and documents related to the restoration of the experimental setup of the evaporative cooling system for high-heat-load components using single-component two-phase flows.” In response, the institute’s director, Dmitry Markovich, submitted 134 pages of scientific documentation. Andreev reviewed the materials—but did not add them to the case file. He simply concealed them. Presumably because they entirely dismantled the prosecution’s argument that the Ministry of Science had suffered material damage in the form of an unlawfully granted bonus for a supposedly failed project. Yet the ministry had already been officially designated as a victim in the case a year earlier. For that to happen, yet another “co-author” had to be added to the case against Kabov.
At first glance, the Ministry of Science should have been defending Kabov. After all, it had approved his research reports in 2017, conducted an expert review, and issued the additional payments. Yet the ministry showed no interest in the case. In November 2022, D.E. Istratov, a consultant in the ministry’s legal department, was summoned for questioning. Investigator Zderev immediately presented him with an official decision recognizing the ministry as an aggrieved party and civil plaintiff. The record contained no information provided by Istratov himself, despite the fact that, by law, an interrogation record of a representative of the aggrieved party should include only the information they personally report. This did not seem to surprise the official in the slightest—he read the document and signed it. In other words, Istratov, a legal professional, was perfectly content with the fact that he had not been asked a single question and that he himself had not requested any materials from the investigator.
During the trial, when attorney Shishebarov asked Istratov why he had signed an interrogation record that merely contained a verbatim copy of the investigator’s decision, Istratov responded simply: “I had no reason to distrust the investigator.” Apparently, if an FSB investigator claims that the ministry suffered damages, then that must be the case. This is despite the fact that such a claim completely discredits the ministry itself, which in 2017 had approved Kabov’s report, appointed experts to review his work, and, based on the report and the results of the scientific review, deemed the project successful.
Kabov’s project and its report were completed during the tenure of ministers Dmitry Livanov and Olga Vasilyeva. The ministry was later headed by Mikhail Kotyukov, and only afterward by the current minister, Valery Falkov. Since then, the ministry’s team has changed multiple times, and naturally, the new officials felt no sense of continuity in the agency’s objectives or responsibilities. However, if ministry attorney Istratov had simply performed his duties in a formal manner and reviewed all the available documentation on the project, he would have been forced to acknowledge that the ministry had suffered no damages. On the contrary—the new knowledge generated during the project, published in scientific articles and patents, and presented at conferences, was so significant that the ministry actually improved its performance metrics through the funding of this successful project. At this point, Kabov’s case could have ended. But Istratov, like all the other “co-authors” of Kabov’s case, never even attempted to understand what scientific results had been achieved or whether any reports had actually been falsified.
Bureaucratic Magic
Kabov’s entire research project was divided into five stages. Over the course of three years, Kabov’s laboratory reported on its work at each stage. These reports were drafted and signed by approximately twenty laboratory employees, including Dr. V.V. Kuznetsov (Doctor of Physical and Mathematical Sciences), Dr. O.N. Goncharova (Doctor of Physical and Mathematical Sciences), Dr. A.A. Fedorets (Doctor of Physical and Mathematical Sciences), D.V. Zaitsev (Candidate of Physical and Mathematical Sciences), A.A. Gavrilov (Candidate of Technical Sciences), V.S. Azhaev (Candidate of Physical and Mathematical Sciences), P.D. Lobanov (Candidate of Physical and Mathematical Sciences), and others.
According to the prosecution, Kabov “instructed subordinates who were unaware of his criminal intent, including E.F. Bykovskaya” (Oleg Kabov’s wife — T-i), to include “deliberately false information” in the reports and submit them to the ministry at each stage. However, the case materials contain not a single testimony from the authors of these reports — none of them were questioned by either the investigator or the prosecutor in court. In other words, no one attempted to verify who had allegedly falsified the reports or how. This would mean that two dozen physicists and engineers, half of whom hold academic degrees, unknowingly signed falsified reports for three consecutive years, allegedly slipped to them by their lab director — yet the investigation, the prosecution, and the ministry had no questions for them.
The only accusations were directed at Kabov. Yet, if the prosecution’s theory was that the falsifications were a collective effort and that financial gains were shared, then logically, the entire lab staff should have been charged. But no such argument was made, either during the investigation or in court. After all, that would have required proving which parts of the reports were incorrect or deliberately falsified, who Kabov allegedly instructed to write them, when, and under what circumstances. None of this appears in the case materials or in the prosecutor’s statements. Instead, the investigation was conducted as if from the outset, it was clear that nobody intended to prove anything. It was as if the investigators knew that the mere fact of a criminal case initiated not by just any agency, but specifically by the FSB, carried such an undeniable weight that no one reviewing the case materials would dare to question it. And, as the trial demonstrated, that is precisely what happened.
At no stage did the experts or officials dare to question the competence of the authorities. The leadership of the Siberian Branch of the Russian Academy of Sciences (SB RAS) did not do so either.
“I reached out to all members of the Presidium of SB RAS and all directors of its institutes, urging them to invite the heads of the Novosibirsk FSB office and the prosecutor’s office to a Presidium meeting so that security officials could explain to scientists the grounds for initiating this criminal case,” says Dr. Bulat Nigmatullin. “And so that scientists, in turn, could explain to them the results Kabov obtained in his exploratory research. But no one responded. Academic Valentin Parmon (Head of SB RAS, Vice President of RAS — T-i) and the other members of the SB RAS Presidium bear personal responsibility for this. As Bruno Jasieński wrote: ‘Do not fear your enemies — at worst, they can kill you. Do not fear your friends — at worst, they can betray you. Fear the indifferent — they do not kill or betray, but with their silent consent, treachery and lies exist in the world.’ And we see that the trial of Kabov is happening with the silent consent of the leadership of the Siberian Branch of RAS.”
There were many “co-authors” of Kabov’s case. Each played a role in ensuring that a laboratory that, just three years ago, was operating at a world-class level is now effectively ruined and paralyzed. And if the prosecution’s demands are met, its director will only be able to return to work in ten years — when he will be nearly eighty.
That is why, in his closing statement to the judge, Oleg Kabov requests that the court reopen the judicial investigation, summon officers of the Novosibirsk FSB Directorate, E.V. Folchanov and E.N. Alganov, as well as investigators E.P. Zderev and E.V. Andreev, and appoint a new forensic examination with the participation of experts in thermal physics. So far, the court has denied the defense’s request for such an examination four times.
Now, Judge Gushchin must decide whether to send the case back for further investigation — since the investigators fabricated evidence regarding the alleged failure to create a prototype and provided no proof of embezzlement — or to deliver a verdict based on the existing case materials. But regardless of the court’s decision, Kabov’s case will become a landmark in the history of Russian science, just as the trials of Joseph Brodsky and Kirill Serebrennikov became part of the history of Russian culture — cases where creative individuals were prosecuted not for the charges against them, but for their creativity itself. It is no coincidence that the prosecution’s final demand in Kabov’s sentencing is not a ban on holding executive positions or engaging in financial activities — but a ban on conducting scientific research.