A director named Bogomolov stirred public interest with a new program article. Earlier he challenged Europe, prompting talk that the piece made things simpler and that, in particular, the so-called intellectuals now argue with sentiment rather than substance, wrestling with what many describe as diet- and grief-driven ideas. The topic of grief and its degrees is undeniable, but the text nonetheless holds relevance for a broad audience.
The article reads as if an artist suddenly becomes a chorus for the common person. This shift is not new in the country, and it mirrors a recurring pattern among some artists who magnify the plight of the everyday individual as a political or cultural stance. It is striking how, when officials or lawmakers lean toward simplicity and other rhetorical moves, those voices are easy ways to win points. Yet when someone who sees themselves as enlightened claims to speak for the “dark masses,” some readers deem it misguided. In the 21st century, after a turbulent 20th century, echoes of this stance can feel like trolling to some observers.
Bogomolov’s piece blends diverse targets. The intelligentsia and the elite are central to his concerns, while professionals like doctors and teachers are grouped with other social types, sometimes dismissed as rough-edged crowds. The old aristocracy, scarred by Bolshevik upheavals, appears to clash with émigrés from 1917–1922, whom the author labels as defeatist and small-minded in adapting to a new reality. The director also mirrors the language of Soviet-era editorials when he laments nostalgia for the past, suggesting that history has veered onto a different track and urging people to roll up their sleeves and work, live, and believe.
The question arises: is this a 1930s production novel revived for contemporary times, or do the populist impulses of the 1870s resurface here? The same tension—criticism of the intelligentsia paired with idolization of the ordinary person—seems to recur across eras.
Maintaining continuity with a valued tradition is understandable, and there are clear instances of thoughtful critique of the educated class and its distance from the broader public. From a historical vantage point, notable examples exist within the century’s literature and thought. For instance, a classic work such as Milestones is often invoked in discussions triggered by Bogomolov’s article. Yet the association here is not celebratory toward the director.
Berdyaev, for example, also critiques the intelligentsia but warns against flirting with ignorant masses, calling such moves populist obscenity. He resents the reduction of science, art, and philosophy to revolutionary tools. The Russian intelligentsia is portrayed as increasingly isolated from the public, not out of contempt for the common person but due to a reluctance to engage with people in distress. Bulgakov notes that unlike Bogomolov, who mocks misrepresentations within his milieu, the educated class often bore responsibility for the country’s affairs. Struve argues that the intelligentsia has tended to awaken social hatred and the right to revenge rather than fostering development and progress. Now Bogomolov, spurred by crowd dynamics, confronts the public with a similar posture, even as his performances and extravagant acts draw attention, sometimes with a wedding ride in a hearse as a symbol of spectacle.
If in a 2021 manifesto Bogomolov stood in the fire of forces challenging the movement, he now appears to embrace a version of those same ideas, proclaiming that the voice of the ordinary person matters. The emphasis shifts toward simplicity, a direction some intellectuals interpret as a challenge to educated authority. The belief that education should uplift society is questioned by those who see an underlying tension: a perception that some educated voices seek to elevate themselves by diminishing the lay public. The sense that society’s push for improvement might be interpreted as contempt for the masses surfaces, casting a shadow over the idea of enlightenment and education as a path for all.
The author wonders what Bogomolov observed around him and how those observations have reshaped his worldview. From a broader public discourse, including informal education networks, a new philosophy attributed to the director appears unsettling. He seems to gain momentum among the masses, not through cultural leadership, but via bureaucratic populist slogans. The refrain that “the simple person’s opinion counts” emerges in different tones—from those who feel left behind to the everyday consumer in a familiar retail setting. The sentiment that complexity is unnecessary and that literature, mathematics, and art are not essential in daily life echoes in conversations across many households. Yet the idea that the opinion of the uninformed matters remains, and its popularity raises questions about social values and the education of citizens.
There is an acknowledgment that in light of recent trends, one might be accused of scorn for the ordinary person. Yet the stance expressed favors empathy for people who work hard and strive for a decent life, including access to education, health, and a better standard of living. It rejects militant ignorance and defends the principle that everyone deserves a fair chance, while resisting the temptation to justify complacency.
The author suggests that every person who is labeled simple should first work on themselves and their life, moving toward greater complexity before voicing opinions that matter. If inertia and ignorance endure, then only a baseline of rights and freedoms can be claimed, even in an idealized world. Real progress requires will—the will to create, to understand cause and effect, and to pursue ideas that foster development rather than destruction.
The piece closes with a personal note about the author’s own views, which may diverge from the editors’ stance. The message leaves readers with a reminder that perspectives on education, enlightenment, and the place of the intelligentsia in society remain contested, and that responsibility for shaping the national conversation rests with many voices, not just one.