Following Donald Trump’s election and his initial presidential steps, it became abundantly clear: the world will never be the same. Who—or what—can save Ukraine today? Can private businesses support initiatives aiding Ukrainians and Russians opposing the war? Was Navalny doomed to die after the war began? What is the actual impact of international sanctions on Russia? How are Trump and Putin alike? T-invariant discussed these questions with economist Konstantin Sonin, a professor at the University of Chicago.
T-invariant: We’re speaking at a dramatic moment. U.S.-Ukraine relations are on the verge of collapse. Trump is “befriending” Putin against Europe and Ukraine. The U.S. has announced its withdrawal from the UN. What will be the consequences of Trump’s rift with Zelensky for Ukraine? How do you assess Ukraine’s chances of survival under these circumstances?
Konstantin Sonin: The U.S. plays a major role in arms supplies and supporting Ukraine. But we must understand that, first and foremost, Ukraine is defended by its own army, the strength of its state, and the unity of its people. Of course, without U.S. support, the war will become harder for Ukrainians—there will be more bloodshed and suffering. But I don’t think this will fundamentally change the situation on the frontlines. Ukrainian unity and their determination to defend their independence will likely only grow stronger under this pressure.
T-i: How is American society reacting to Trump’s public confrontation with Zelensky?
KS: So far, there’s no significant shift in public opinion. American society is politically polarized: Trump’s supporters see something positive in what happened in the Oval Office, while his opponents call it a national disgrace.
Konstantin Sonin was born in 1972. He graduated from the Faculty of Mechanics and Mathematics at Moscow State University in 1995 and earned his Ph.D. there in 1998. He worked at the New Economic School in Moscow and was a visiting researcher at various institutions in Europe and the U.S. From 2013 to 2022, he served as a professor and academic supervisor at the Faculty of Economic Sciences at HSE University. In 2023, Russian authorities opened a criminal case against Sonin (“fake news” about the Russian army) and placed him on the federal wanted list.
T-i: You’ve visited Ukraine multiple times over these past three years. In your view, what has been the war’s most devastating impact on Ukraine?
KS: I believe the irreparable damage is the loss of lives—the people who perished in the occupied territories. Their lives cannot be restored. Everything else can be rebuilt. Moreover, once peace is achieved and Ukraine’s security is guaranteed, the destroyed infrastructure could even spur growth. The country will develop rapidly. We’ll witness a Ukrainian economic miracle, akin to Italy’s post-WWII boom or Poland’s economic transformation after the fall of socialism.
T-i: We launched this project two years ago to unite scholars from different countries opposing the war. Our early coverage focused on Ukrainian science—supporting Ukrainian researchers was crucial to us. But in hindsight, some of our assumptions now seem naive. We believed the war would end with a clear Ukrainian victory and that the world—Europe and America—would participate in rebuilding Ukraine. We thought science and technology, particularly universities, would play a key role in Ukraine’s revival, so we emphasized preserving Ukraine’s scientific talent, tracking displaced scholars, etc. Yet since then, more universities and labs have been destroyed, more scientists have left, and young people are dying at the front. What can help preserve Ukrainian universities and the country’s scientific potential?
KS: To be honest, I don’t see the picture you’re painting. Of course, the lives lost cannot be brought back, and not all those who left will return. But much of what’s happening in Ukrainian science right now looks quite positive. For example, during the war, Ukraine has effectively developed its defense industry. Today, over 30% of the weapons successfully used by Ukrainian forces on the front lines are produced domestically. Unfortunately, these are war technologies—but it’s still human capital development in mathematics, applied sciences, and computer engineering.
In the social sciences, which are closer to my field, some scholars left at the start of the war but continue teaching remotely. I also know people who moved to Kyiv to work, leaving their permanent positions abroad. When I taught in Kyiv last year, I lived near Taras Shevchenko University, and the students there seemed just as optimistic and lively as those on American campuses.
T-i: USAID’s assistance program for Ukrainians has been suspended. Many students, graduate researchers, and scholars who came to the U.S. through it now face uncertainty. Do you think American society has enough leverage to protect these Ukrainians?
KS: I believe support will come—both from universities and private donors. America has no shortage of millionaires and multimillionaires, including Ukrainian-origin billionaires who care deeply about Ukraine. Funding education or temporary stays in the U.S. is a natural cause for wealthy donors, including those who support Ukraine but oppose spending on weapons for ethical reasons.
The USAID shutdown was sudden, so private efforts can’t immediately fill the gap. But I’m confident it will be compensated. Thankfully, U.S. government spending on USAID isn’t as vast as Trumpist conservatives claim—they imagine it’s some colossal sum, but it’s not. Losing these programs is sad, but progress won’t stop because of it.
T-i: USAID also backed independent Russian-language media. Can the private sector step in here too?
KS: Hmm… Maybe Russia’s private sector should look this way? Billionaires who made their fortunes in Russia might now, after the grim lessons of recent years, realize they’ve spent too little on civil society and independent media. Perhaps they’re sitting abroad, thinking, “We should’ve funded Boris Nemtsov when he asked. We should’ve backed independent outlets instead of listening to those idiots in the presidential administration.” I hope they’ll finally support both science and free press.
T-i: Looking back at Russia over these three years, what surprised you most? Prigozhin’s mutiny? The public reaction to mobilization? The economy’s resilience?
KS: Prigozhin’s rebellion was a genuine shock. I study coups and anti-government conspiracies professionally, but witnessing a large-scale (if ultimately failed) military revolt unfold in real time was fascinating.
The economy’s resilience, though, wasn’t surprising to most economists. Claims that Russia’s economy had “collapsed” came from over-optimistic wishful thinkers, not experts. Economies are massive systems—even a catastrophic decision like starting a war doesn’t make them vanish overnight. Imagine salaries dropping 10–30%: life gets harder, but people don’t cease to exist. They cut back on travel, buy cheaper goods, infrastructure decays—but survival continues. Economists expected this.
What was astonishing was the Russian government’s willingness to burn vast sums on war—overpaying recruits tenfold to die in Ukraine within weeks. I’d assumed there were more responsible people in leadership. Historically, such figures existed in Russian governance, but this time, they were absent. That’s the real surprise.
T-i: Alexei Navalny was killed a little over a year ago. On the anniversary, you wrote that his death resulted from his strength as a politician. How did the war contribute to his murder? Did it seal his fate?
KS: The key link is that the war shattered Putin’s legitimacy. What once relied on propaganda, persuasion, and bribes now depends solely on violence. Putin has become like Lukashenko—no one loves him, but any dissent lands you in jail. That’s all that keeps him in power. The crackdowns, the exile of hundreds of thousands, the imprisonments—all of this hardened the regime. By then, the only thing left to do with Navalny was to torture and kill him.
T-i: Did you ever think an exchange was possible?
KS: No, it seemed utterly impossible by then. Putin and his circle had completely lost touch with reality. They aren’t thinking about the future—only clinging to power and prolonging the war. To them, Navalny, even abroad, would’ve remained an existential threat.
T-i: How would you assess the effectiveness of sanctions over these three years? To what extent have they impacted—or failed to impact—Russia’s economic resilience?
KS: Sanctions are a consequence of Russia’s attack on Ukraine. Therefore, it’s difficult to discuss the effects of sanctions in isolation. However, it’s evident that they have been highly effective in restricting Russia’s ability to produce various types of military equipment. Russia is clearly facing significant challenges in scaling and upgrading its arsenal.
In particular, Ukraine is developing its own military technology faster than Russia. This demonstrates that Russia’s isolation from the world is indeed a major, substantive issue. The fact that Russia has had to purchase large quantities of weapons from North Korea at high prices—and even recruit soldiers from North Korea, which is extremely rare in Russian history—shows that sanctions are working in terms of limiting access to the technologies needed for warfare.
If anyone believed sanctions could force people to stage a revolution, those were always unrealistic fantasies. There is extensive historical precedent of countries under isolation, self-isolation, or external sanctions, yet none of them led to revolutions.
T-i: Given Trump’s recent statements, do you think the U.S. might weaken or even revoke a number of sanctions?
KS: America could lift some sanctions. But not all. I don’t believe sanctions restricting technology transfers will be revoked. The president likely lacks the authority to do so unilaterally, and there is virtually no support in Congress for lifting sanctions. There is a strong, stable majority reflecting the American public’s view that Russia is an aggressor and must end the war by withdrawing troops from Ukraine. Even if President Trump removes the sanctions he can eliminate through executive orders, it would ease Russia’s position, facilitate arms production, and complicate Ukraine’s situation—but it wouldn’t be decisive.
T-i: Did you notice how, as soon as talk began about the easing of U.S. sanctions, the first reaction from Russia’s political establishment was: “Oh! Visa and Mastercard will soon return to us!”
KS: It reminds me of a famous historical episode: When Franklin D. Roosevelt died, Goebbels rushed to Hitler with champagne to celebrate, believing Germany’s fate had suddenly changed. Except this was April 1945, with Soviet troops encircling Berlin—when the outcome had long been decided.
Without equating Putin to Hitler, I see the same bunker mentality at play. They genuinely think Trump’s words or actions could somehow undo the catastrophic miscalculation of invading Ukraine—a war that has left Russia isolated for years to come. As if they still don’t grasp it. Even if Visa and Mastercard returned, it wouldn’t change the fundamentals.
T-i: Do you actually believe they will return?
KS: I doubt Visa and Mastercard will come back at all. No serious business—outside extractive industries—will return until the regime changes. Ending the war isn’t enough; Putin and his circle must vanish from the political horizon first.
T-i: Does that make the energy sector the most amoral business of all?
KS: “Amoral”? Their business generates massive profits and benefits many countries—but by nature, it deals with vile regimes and corrupt actors. That’s literally their job. They’ve worked with figures like Putin for a century; it’s their profession.
T-i: Even Putin would call them “people with diminished social responsibility.”
KS: You see, police officers and doctors work with anyone. A doctor will treat a criminal, a bad person, an dishonest person. A lawyer will defend sadists and murderers. Similarly, oil company executives can deal with anyone. Take Milton Friedman, one of the founders of modern economics—he believed that the social responsibility of business is to maximize profits. Social issues should be addressed by political institutions and citizens through voting, elections, taxes, and other means, not by businesses themselves.
T-i: Let me return to the start of our project. The second thing we considered crucial to document was the rapid degradation of Russian science and education. Almost immediately after the war began, there was a mass exodus of scientists, professors, graduate students, and undergraduates. It seemed Russian science and education were suffering what Soviet-era rhetoric called “irreparable losses.” But three years later, we see Russian science inexorably pivoting East—new programs launching with Chinese, Indian, Brazilian, and Emirati universities. We’re witnessing the successful militarization of Russian education. The same infrastructure and tools that once integrated Russian universities into the global market and international innovation system are now being repurposed for the frontlines. Do you see in this the contours of a future, resilient Russia—one already building an Anti-America?
KS: First, I want to say I admire T-invariant’s efforts. Documenting the degradation of science and education, its descent into something second- or third-rate, is difficult but necessary work. I, for one, couldn’t do it.
Second, if we’re talking about morality, consider the morality of those who call themselves scientists yet pursue applied physics to develop drones. That’s not science—it’s embezzlement. It’s not advancing cutting-edge technology. It’s astonishing that talented students still enroll in these programs.
Perhaps in the 1990s, we didn’t reflect enough on how Russian and Soviet scientists flocked to military science, to missile production. Maybe that was necessary during wartime, but all those vile physics and engineering institutes that served the war machine became utterly superfluous afterward. It was harmful—people just lining their pockets. Life in the Soviet Union was hard, sure, but that’s no reason to romanticize it. Today, those joining drone development programs aren’t serving Russia or science. They’re contributing nothing of value.
You mentioned ties to Brazilian, Indian, and Chinese universities. Well, that’s the chronicle of degradation in action. There are no Brazilian or Indian universities—and hardly any Chinese ones—among the institutions advancing human knowledge, the kind of research that actually benefits people. Learning to build drones is worse than working at Lego, Meta or Coca-Cola. It’s less valuable than producing soda or furniture. Because it doesn’t improve lives—it helps kill people. It doesn’t serve the country. It enables Putins and their wars.
T-i: But globally, drones are used in diverse technological programs with dual applications. Students are drawn to the engineering challenge—whether drones end up in agriculture, environmental projects, or the military isn’t their concern.
KS: That’s precisely the immorality of it. The rocket scientists in Nazi Germany were also passionate researchers and engineers. Wernher von Braun, for instance, was obsessed with physics and rocketry. What we’re seeing now is a similar kind of glorification—as if working on drone programs (while making money for yourself) is somehow noble.
T-i: Here, perhaps, it would be appropriate to recall the outstanding physicists who worked on atomic projects.
KS: They weren’t outstanding physicists. Many of them were Jewish and couldn’t find other work or secure normal university positions, so they had no choice but to work in rocketry. But what good can we say about them when what they developed is now falling on Kyiv and Kharkiv? Should we speak kindly of someone like Abram Alikhanov?
T-i: Sakharov worked on the bomb.
KS: Yes, but he spent most of his life apologizing for it. Sakharov is remembered not for his decade of work on nuclear fuel, but for the 40 years he spent trying to explain and atone for his involvement. History took the wrong lesson from him.
T-i: Doesn’t it seem to you that we’re now witnessing the formation of a “2.0 system” to stabilize Putin’s regime? Over these three years, haven’t you noticed how this new structure in higher education is taking shape—the very foundation that will keep Putin in power for years to come?
KS: Well, let’s see. My youth was marked by the collapse of the Soviet Union, and that system was far more robust than Putin’s regime. So I’m not convinced this is all that stable.
That said, it’s also wrong to think the Soviet regime endured because intelligent people worked for it. The Soviet regime held on thanks to a vast apparatus of violence. Putin’s regime survives because two million people work in the FSB, internal troops, and security forces—arresting, imprisoning, and expelling people. That’s what sustains the regime. As for people trying to pursue their interests and survive—that happened under any system.
T-i: There’s a split in public discourse about how to view what’s happening to Russian scientists inside Russia. Some in the scientific community say, “Let them burn—the worse, the better.” Others believe that the fate of Russian science is irrelevant amid global catastrophes. And a small minority argue that it’s still better if education and science don’t die in Russia, because no one needs an “Upper Volta with rockets.” The more educated people remain, the easier it will be for Russia to pivot toward a new path and start rebuilding society.
KS: I’m firmly in the third camp. I absolutely believe that the more scientists Russia has, the stronger its educational programs, the brighter its students—the greater the chance for normal, peaceful, prosperous development.
I don’t follow what’s happening in Russia closely because the war has dealt a devastating blow, especially to sciences that were already underdeveloped there. Having spent 20 years not just writing academic papers but helping build an educational system in my field, it’s painful to see all those efforts flushed away. The only thing left is the talented young people.
T-i: The de facto ban on institutional collaboration now extends to individuals. Most researchers at state universities and institutes can’t attend conferences or participate in joint studies. Russian scientists learn about Western research through Chinese and Indian universities or by accessing journal databases. Do you still think these measures are reasonable?
KS: They’re a consequence of war. No one invented these restrictions just to harm Russian science. Countless connections were severed because institutions and individuals refuse to engage with a country that attacks others.
Governments might not have wanted these bans, but many now despise anything tied to Russia. That said, they still treat Russian scientists well. I’ve written dozens of recommendation letters and helped people find jobs abroad during this time. There’s no hostility toward individual Russians—just a refusal to deal with the Russian state.
T-i: You served as vice-rector at HSE University. Recently, the cafeteria on Pokrovka introduced a “frontline menu”: “AK-47” salad, soldier’s shashlik, field buckwheat, “Frontline” vegetable stew, and so on.
KS: AK-47—interesting, which war is that from? The Great Patriotic War? Because if I recall correctly, the AK-47 didn’t exist back then. Or is it from the Soviet-Afghan war? Or just generic gangster chic? And what exactly makes buckwheat “military”? Is it the kind served during the storming of Amin’s palace?
T-i: Seems like the residual radiation of Afghanistan has finally reached us. How do you feel when you hear such news?
KS: On one hand, it’s frustrating. On the other, I’m not young—I studied at a Soviet university. Back then, war propaganda and victory mania were ten times worse, saturating every corner of public life. Yet many of us remained unaffected.
There’s hope that even if children are irradiated with war propaganda, its influence will vanish the moment the “propaganda reactor” shuts down. So while this is sad or absurd, it’s not tragic. The real tragedy was losing dozens of leading researchers across disciplines when they fled HSE. “AK-47 salad” is just pathetic.
T-i: What actions from Trump’s first month are truly catastrophic, and what can still be fixed?
KS: First, I want to clarify something important for those following American politics from abroad. Americans exist in an information noise bubble around politics that’s exponentially denser than in Russia. If Russia has a few flagship shows like Solovyov’s or Kiselyov’s, the US has thirty channels running comparable content daily—nonstop. Where Russia might have two or three prominent pundits in any given field, America has twenty or thirty publishing daily takes. We might have one niche podcaster on a topic; they’ll have fifty in every category.
This means when someone unaccustomed to American politics starts paying attention, they experience immediate sensory overload—a crucial context for analyzing US political reality. Because Donald Trump is, without exaggeration, the defining monument of this new information age. His superpower is an unparalleled ability to command perpetual attention. Even Roosevelt and Kennedy—communication geniuses of their eras—never matched this capacity to dominate daily news cycles amid the chaos.
But here’s what we know: Trump’s noise production doesn’t correlate with tangible outcomes. During his first campaign, he promised a border wall with Mexico. No wall was built—yet his base remains convinced it was. He’s the world champion of constructing castles in the air that his followers genuinely inhabit. The relationship between his words and reality is… complicated.
Take his first term: he constantly praised Putin. That didn’t stop new sanctions or prevent his administration from authorizing weapons shipments to Ukraine. Now we’re seeing the same pattern. Trump’s recent statements—claiming Ukraine “attacked Russia,” trash-talking Zelensky—make headlines and spike blood pressure. But will this translate into policy?
I expect reduced support for Ukraine—though likely not to zero. As of now, despite the pro-Putin rhetoric, there’s no actual decision to halt weapons deliveries. We’re hearing the music, but the orchestra hasn’t started playing.
T-i: But my question wasn’t about words—it’s about actions. USAID humanitarian projects worldwide have been halted. The National Institutes of Health—the world’s largest scientific fund—is paralyzed. Defunding the WHO (World Health Organization) isn’t rhetoric, it’s concrete action. Right now, we’re witnessing the paralysis of countless projects that operated for decades for the benefit of—I’m not afraid to say it—human civilization itself. Your American colleagues in biomedicine are horrified, throwing up their hands: “I have 15 people in my lab, and I’ll have to fire them all.”
KS: Currently, the greatest strain among colleagues—especially in biomedicine—comes from uncertainty. Trump has issued numerous executive orders. Many have been blocked by courts. Some court rulings the administration simply ignores, creating this bizarre limbo of unpredictability.
But when you actually crunch the numbers, the financial impact may be less catastrophic than it seems. Take the University of Chicago: we’re likely to lose about $50 million in NIH grants due to Trump’s measures. However, our annual operating budget is $1 billion. While $50 million is deeply troubling—we’re actively discussing how to support affected researchers—it ultimately represents just 5% of our budget. That gap will be bridged somehow.
T-i: During Trump’s first term, the U.S. withdrew from the Paris Agreement and halted support for climate initiatives. For climatologists and environmentalists, this was an absolute disaster.
KS: Unfortunately, that’s the reality with climate policy. Unlike potential cuts to biomedical research budgets, withdrawing from the Paris Agreement was a promised move—one that American voters explicitly endorsed. The time to sound the alarm was November 5th; this shouldn’t come as a surprise. It was telegraphed well in advance.
The same logic applies to the World Health Organization. It was no secret that Republicans held a negative view of the pandemic response, believing the WHO failed to assist the U.S. and imposed unnecessary measures. Again, this was a stated intention.
What is unexpected, however, is the proposed reduction in funding for basic research.
T-i: Have you felt the impact of Trump’s return on your own work in the social and political sciences?
KS: Social sciences—including my field—are relatively low-cost. The main expense is, roughly speaking, salaries. Among my faculty colleagues, there are Nobel laureates and young researchers conducting fieldwork abroad, gathering data in various countries. Those projects require far more funding than writing theoretical papers. While many are financed through university resources, federal grant cuts have created losses, leaving some colleagues scrambling to figure out how to continue their work.
T-i: How resilient do you think the U.S. academic system is? Will it survive Trump intact, or emerge transformed—shaken, even battered?
KS: The U.S. academic system has outlasted many presidents. It will outlast this one, too.
T-i: But not every president has actively sought to reform it, complicate its operations, or scrutinize it so closely.
KS: There’s precedent for everything. Sometimes, cuts in one area even benefit another institution. Take the famous example I remember well: classmates of mine who’d just graduated from the Moscow Institute of Physics and Technology left for the U.S. in 1994 to work on the superconducting supercollider project in Texas. Republicans won the election, the collider was scrapped, and it was never built. But as a result, the aging collider at the University of Chicago’s Argonne National Laboratory got a 20-year lease on life—since there was no new machine, they kept the old one running. Eventually, Europe’s Large Hadron Collider surpassed it, ours was decommissioned, and CERN took the lead.
Of course, funding is critical for fundamental science. But top U.S. universities also generate revenue by educating students. They thrive because they produce knowledge and values people want. How are universities funded? Through tuition (or rather, parents’ payments), sponsors who believe in their mission, or commercialized research—sometimes a single patent yields billions. So while the federal government plays a major role, it’s not decisive. Whatever Trump does to education funding won’t be fatal.
T-i: Do you sense a mutual affinity between Trump and Putin? What binds them? They’re products of entirely different social and intellectual systems, with completely divergent backgrounds. And yet, they seem drawn to each other—even alike in some ways.
KS: It’s important to recognize that President Trump is a historic figure in the sense that he won the presidency twice, with a break in between. This has only happened once before in U.S. history, over a century ago. Tens of millions of people voted for him. And he has this uncanny ability to connect with large groups of people, to make them feel like he’s one of them. Poor, less-educated Americans—factory workers, firefighters, the unemployed in Pennsylvania and Michigan—genuinely believe that this multimillionaire, who grew up in Manhattan, attended elite universities, and socialized with celebrities, is THEIR guy, THEIR representative. It’s entirely possible that Putin, too, sees Trump as HIS guy.
The second thing that unites them, I think, is their cult of strength. I came up with a test for my Russian peers: Imagine looking out a window and seeing a high school senior beating up a first-grader. The Russian observer’s first thought is: “What did the first-grader do wrong to deserve this?” Because in Russia, there’s this twisted logic—if someone is stronger, they must be morally right. If you can punch someone in the face, if you can assault someone (say, in a prison camp), then you’re justified. Russia is full of metaphors about dominance and humiliation, used even in everyday life—as if being a victim of violence is somehow shameful.
I think today’s American right often worships the same cult. It’s easy to bully Denmark or Canada because they’re small—what can they do in response? Trump’s fans love him precisely because he picks on the weak. Mocking a war veteran, attacking some TV personality—always targeting those who can’t fight back. Putin, I suspect, operates on the same small-time criminal morality: “If I can punch you, I’m in the right. If I can rudely shut down a journalist at a press conference, I’m tough.” That’s what they have in common.
T-i: Nearly every analytical summary of these three years of war—no matter who’s writing it—arrives at the same conclusion. People agree we’re at a turning point in global history, that an era is ending. Do you see the contours of a new world emerging? Or are they still buried, so to speak, in these fractures?
KS: Russia’s attack on Ukraine, if anything, proves that even though we live in a new world, in the 21st century, everything still boils down to the same old forces—violence, amorality, the realization that no one will protect you except your own resilience and your army. So in that sense, it’s the same world as before. We’ve looped back to relive lessons we thought we’d learned long ago. Apparently, it was hubris to think we’d entered a new era before even resolving the problems of the old one.