The Spirit of Russian Science

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
For photocopying of material in this volume, please pay a copying fee through the Copyright
Clearance Center, Inc., 222 Rosewood Drive, Danvers, MA 01923, USA. In this case permission to
photocopy is not required from the publisher.
ISBN 981-02-4946-2
All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage and retrieval
system now known or to be invented, without written permission from the Publisher.
Copyright 2002 by World Scientific Publishing Co. Pte. Ltd.
Published by
World Scientific Publishing Co. Pte. Ltd.
P O Box 128, Farrer Road, Singapore 912805
USA office: Suite 1B, 1060 Main Street, River Edge, NJ 07661
UK office: 57 Shelton Street, Covent Garden, London WC2H 9HE
Printed in Singapore.
THE SPIRIT OF RUSSIAN SCIENCE
To my friends
SRC-01dedication.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 5
vii
CONTENTS
Preface xi
Introduction 1
Incident Report 1
The Grad-student, the Supervisor and the Mounting 1
Historic Roots 4
Seminars 5
Joint Work 5
You are Defaming Your Nation 6
The Triplet-Singlet Transition 6
The Peculiar National Habit 8
Latin and Greek Letters 9
Passionarity 11
Table of Ranks 14
Tea Seminar 15
Seminars Which Did Not Take Place 19
Rosa Kuleshova and the Theoretician 19
Misunderstanding 20
Orders 23
Orders About Discharges 23
Order No 4. On Conservation of the Angular
Momentum 24
SRC-02contents.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 7
viii T h e S p i r i t o f R u s s i a n S c i e n c e
Order No 7. About Publications Marked with the
Roman Numeral X 25
Order No 14. About Urgent Problems 26
Order No 16. About the Theft of a Tea-kettle and the
Damage to a Lock 27
Winter Schools 29
Plan of Cultural Program for the 2nd Semiconductor
School of the IOFFE Institute 29
Nemesis 30
The Stress Put in the Right Way 32
About the Mystery of a Womans Soul 34
Operator of a Secondary Quantization 36
Electron in a Potential Well 37
The Odessa PentaBoris 38
Foreigners at the IOFFE Institute 39
An American 39
Glory, Glory, Alleluia!
Beer 40
The Kuban Cossacks 43
Saying Good-bye in the Slavonic Way 44
Digression: An Article Into a Foreign Journal 47
A Grad-student from Munich 49
Profane Faith 51
Digression: The Smell of Science 53
Checks on the Roads 56
SRC-02contents.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 8
ix C o n t e n t s
Russians Abroad 63
Mr. Ulyanov in Finland 63
Population of Rumania 64
I Am Not a Boy for Them 66
Analginum and the Attendant Commodities 68
The Gate 69
The Texas Marquees 71
Little Secrets of Theoreticians 75
Admonition to the Experimentalist 75
Admonition to the Theorist 76
The Optimal Conditions for the Work 76
True Pride 77
Short Sketches on Social Life 81
Late 60s 81
Early 70s 81
Vodka in the Context of a Strictly Scientific Approach
The Lenin Komsomol Prize 82
Late 70s 87
The Experience of Social-political Defloration
Academic and Reactor 90
Late 80s 91
A Tank and a Bug
Physical Society at the IOFFE Institute 92
Late 90s 95
The Last Order
Conclusion 97
SRC-02contents.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 9
xi
PREFACE
Many years ago, in December of 1966, I first crossed the threshold
one of the largest, most famous, and best research institutes of
Russia. The official name of the Institute sounded most solemn
and impressive: The Leningrad Physical-Technical Institute of the
Academy of Sciences of the USSR, named after A. F. Ioffe, awarded
the Medals of Lenin and the Red Banner. In short PhysTech.
In the West this Institute is well known as The Ioffe.
I was fascinated by the atmosphere, by the way people interacted
and by their attitude towards life, which I called The Spirit of
PhysTech. Later, I was assured this surprising spirit is characteristic
not only of the Ioffe but also of Science of Russia in general.
One could not help feeling it, and it was very difficult to define.
A lifetime has passed, and I still cannot find a definition for that
wonderful spirit. Therefore, I decided to do what little I could, to
illustrate the way it manifests itself, showing it by examples still
retained in my memory. This book is a collection of such examples.
That spirit is passing away: new times are coming, and as has
always been the case, new Gods are replacing the old ones. Why
should I conceal that, I like the new ones far less, and I can only
repeat the words of the poet:
People write, and time wipes out,
It wipes out everything they spell.
But tell me, if the ear dies,
Must the sound die as well?
It gets quieter and lower,
I can decipher just a part,
And still I hear, not by ear,
But by my soul, by my heart.
SRC-03preface.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 11
INTRODUCTION
Incident Report
One of the first stories (perhaps the very first) which I heard at the
Ioffe was the following. A fireman on duty, during graveyard shift,
was inspecting the premises entrusted to him. Opening all the
doors with his own key, he discovered in one of the rooms a Senior
Researcher and a Laboratory Assistant in a situation that might be
called rather delicate. The brave fireman took the trouble to draw
up an INCIDENT REPORT that according to the regulations was
presented to the deputy director of the Institute.
In those days, the SENIOR RESEARCHER was considered to
be persona grate, a kind of an embryo of fame and the deputy
director did not dare punish the guilty man on his own authority.
So, the INCIDENT REPORT was deferred to the desk of the
ACADEMICIAN, the Director of the Institute.
The latter drew his famous resolution that he wrote in the top
left corner, slantwise:
Adultery at ones spare time offers no threat to fire safety.
To the archive.
The case was buried in oblivion.
The Grad-student, the Supervisor
and the Mounting
The next incident took place within my memory, almost in front of
my eyes.
For a year and a half a grad-student was assembling a set-up. He
was laboring 1012 hours a day, day by day, 6 days per week. He
had to deal with glass blowers, and mechanics, with plumbers,
electricians, and welders. He procured and elicited, he stole details
1
SRC-04intro.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 1
2 T H E S P I R I T O F R U S S I A N S C I E N C E
of machines, and he cut, screwed, blew, cleaned, adjusted, and
checked up, he remade and refitted over and over
At long last, the final tests showed that the set-up was ready. It
was operational! Now one could grow samples, measure them, give
them to others One could make conclusions, write articles, and
you can never tell, but why not?! One might even present and
defend ones Thesis on time! It was clear as day, that this historic
moment was to be celebrated. And the grad-student did!
When three days later he came to the laboratory, the Group
Supervisor informed the grad-student: Your further work at this
set up is INEXPEDIENT. Another grad-student will work at it.
And you start mounting another set up at which you will make
your thesis.
The grad-student set up a howl and rushed off to the Head of
the Laboratory. The latter had reached that age and position when
one takes close to heart only ones own troubles. In such cases the
subordinates must know better than bother the boss. Their know-
how to manage that is considered to be their best virtue, just like
writing good articles, so that their boss might give his name as a
co-author without even taking the trouble to read them.
My dear, said the Head of the Lab, Ive known your Group
Supervisor for quite a few years. He is a conscientious and responsible
person who always acts sensibly, so it is always possible to come to
an agreement with him in an amicable way. I am sure you will
come to some agreement. By the way, your second year here is
coming to the end, and you have not published anything yet.
But I have been assembling the set-up, havent I?! Provided I
am given an opportunity to work at it, there are to be publications
and I hope Ill be able to present my Thesis
Oh, yes, my dear, arrange it with your Group Supervisor. And do
not forget about your publications, the attestation is not far off .
The grad-student whimpered and trudged to the Group Supervisor.
How dare you to complain about me?! You, SOB! Consider
yourself fired! We are having the attestation in two months and Ill
give you all hell!
SRC-04intro.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 2
3 I n t r o d u c t i o n
The Group Supervisor usually came to his office by 11 a.m. On
that day the grad-student was there by 8 a.m. When the Group
Supervisor entered the room where the set-up had been the day
before, he found the grad-student taking a break, sitting on the
frame. There was not a single glass vessel, a single piece of quartz
larger than a dime in the room. The dust of glass and quartz
the remnants of the setup evenly covered the floor. Not only
that! There was not a single whole union, or a single pipe that had
not been bent, or a single piece of wire longer than 5 cm, or a
single cutting that had not be disfigured. Everything, that hard
work, good health, fury, and the feeling that one is right could
unleash and destroy in 3 hours was unleashed and destroyed.
The Super visor howled and rushed to the Head of the
Laboratory. However, from the heights the latter has achieved, the
misfortunes of the Supervisor did not seem to him to be more
important than those of the grad-student.
My dear, the Head of the Laboratory said, You have been
working with the grad-student for a year and a half. More than
once Ive heard from you that he is a conscientious and responsible
person who always acts sensibly, so it is always possible to come to
an agreement with him in an amicable way. He got heated of
course, thats certain. But, to prosecute? Oh, no, for pitys sake!
Just think what a stain it would be on the Laboratory and on the
Group, too I am sure everything will somehow work out
And indeed, it was. The grad-student changed jobs. He went to
work at the neighboring enterprise and a few years later returned
to the Ioffe.
He defended his Thesis and even became the recipient of one of
the most honorary scientific prizes.
I cant help recalling Alexey K. Tolstoys words:
Fellow of the Council he became,
So very soon, so very soon.
A good example for us to take!
But luck comes once in a blue moon.
SRC-04intro.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 3
Historic Roots
Mikhaylo Lomonosov,
*
who was enrolled in 1742 as grad-student
at this Academy, and during all this time behaved improperly, had
not justified hopes laid on him by the Professors. He often drank
hard, kicked up rows and fights, and in September of 1742 was
taken to the police station. Besides, while a special commission was
working at the Academy, the above Mikhaylo Lomonosov displayed
absolute disrespect to his Professors, humiliating and insulting them.
Since such awful behavior could never be allowed at any academy,
on February 21, a special decision was made that Lomonosov should
not be allowed to attend any Conferences at the Academy.
On April 26, 1743, before noon, Lomonosov, heavily drunk,
insolently appeared in the chamber where Conferences were usually
held. There was no one there at that time, only Professor Vitzgeim
and some clerks working there. Lomonosov, without greeting anyone
and without taking off his hat, walked past them to the department
of geography, and while passing by the Professors table, he stopped
and made a most disgracing gesture with his hand before their
faces. He let forth a stream of threats. He cursed loudly, using very
bad language and threatened Professor Vitzgeim to set right his
teeth, and calling Councilor Shumakher a thief. He mocked them,
he repeated those insinuations many times, and demanded that all
those curses should be registered.
(May 11, 1743)
Materials for the History of Russian Academy of Sciences
*
Mikhail V. Lomonosov is considered to be the founder of Russian science. His
name is but little known in the West, but in Russia every pupil knows him. As usual in
such cases, the school-texts depict Lomonosov as a personification of virtue, a mine of
information, and a knight in shining armour.
SRC-04intro.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 4
SEMINARS
Joint Work
At scientific seminars, chairman is, as a rule, seated at the front.
Upon introducing the reporter, the chairman takes his seat in
the first row, and unless something extraordinary happens, he quietly
begins to snooze, retaining a pose that is full of dignity and respect
towards the speaker. Exceptional cases are but very rare occasions:
the reader of the report is a brilliant speaker, or his/her work must
be of tremendous interest, or else, some disputable or trouble-
making work is being presented.
The work the grad-student was recounting on that day was
quite ordinary. His gift as a speaker left much to be desired
Besides, the work had been made together with the chairman, the
Head of the Laboratory. So it was no wonder that quite soon the
Head of the Seminar appeared to be in the arms of Morpheus.
Meanwhile, about 15 minutes later, a young man, one of those
who delves into every detail, began to question a point which was
unclear to him. The grad-student began explaining it and then
it became clear that it was not an obscurity in style, but an out
and out mistake. As often happens, everybody began to yell
simultaneously, interrupting each other. So, the head of the
laboratory woke up. Cautiously looking around and making sure
he had not lost face, he cocked his ear and a few minutes later
everything was clear to him.
Volodya, he addressed the grad-student who was being
attacked. Silence fell. Volodya, do you know the Chinese saying
that it is not the mistake that disgraces a man but the unwillingness
to correct it. This work is weak as it is, and with this mistake it is
premature to submit it for publication.
But N.N.! It is our joint work. You are co-author!! And it has
already been accepted for publication!!!
5
SRC-05seminars.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 5
There was an awkward silence, but the senior fellow soon found
a way out: That is no reason to present it in such a bad way!
You are Defaming Your Nation
There is no rule of man which cannot allow for an exception. One
of the highly respected Heads of the Laboratory (or maybe even of
the Department), on the contrary, liked to sit in the last row,
skillfully gaining all the strategic advantages of that position. A
presentation was being made by a researcher from Moscow. The
theme of the talk was vexingly close to that of one of the grad-
students of the laboratory. Being the person concerned, and not
very clever, the grad-student began finding fault with the presenter
no sooner than the latter had opened his mouth. Being Jewish, i.e.
quite a passionate person, he made his remarks in a tone far from
academic.
The presenter behaved with dignity and parried the attacks of
the grad-student not without humor, which made the latter even
hotter under the collar. At last the situation became indecent.
The Head of the Laboratory (and maybe even of the Depart-
ment), a very tall man, whose motions were never hasty, rose from
his seat in the last row and, his gait slouching like that of a
cavalryman, walked unhurriedly along the aisle to the first row.
Walking past the grad-student, who was sitting near the aisle, he
slightly bent his head and pronounced in a low but quite distinct
voice: You are defaming your nation, after which he walked on
and sat down in the first row.
The seminar went on without any further incidents or
interference.
The Triplet-Singlet Transition
The desire and ability to get to the root of things constitutes an
attractive peculiarity of the Russian scientific character; even if in
SRC-05seminars.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 6
7 S e mi n a r s
doing so it is necessary to cut open the speakers abdomen and
rummage in his bowels. A presenter in Russia is always ready to be
interrupted at any point of his or her presentation. Any participant
of a seminar or conference may interfere whenever he-or-she likes
and ask in the plainest language any question.
It was the early 70s, and on All-Union Conference on Semicon-
ductor Physics was taking place in Kiev. The Head of the Department
presented the results of work recently done in his department; he
was, quite naturally, co-author He presented the material brilliantly:
As far back as the ancient times, the Greeks knew When Newton
observed the interference rings, it was already then that, in
principle, However
A young theoretician standing behind me rapturously said to some-
one older than himself: Look here, he is a genius! I know for sure
that just 2 days ago he knew nothing whatsoever about this work!
The second man answered composedly: Wait for the questions
The presentation came to an end. A young boy stood up and,
blushing, asked the presenter: Will you tell me, please! Your effect
is based on the transition from state A to state B, isnt it? But state
A is a singlet while state B is a triplet. And such transitions are
forbidden by selection rules. So how can this be? There was
complete silence followed by a confident answer. Here this transition
is allowed. The young theoretician behind my back sighed Oh!
The audience was silent.
Here, the famous middle-aged (as it seemed to me then) theo-
retician P woke up and in his innocence asked, Look here,
what are you saying? How can you get such a transition allowed?
To argue with P about it? For the entire audience, the speaker
included, the outcome is clear beforehand. A heavy silence lasted a
whole minute. For a moment a desire to tell the truth, I dont
know, was written on the presenters face. But it vanished imme-
diately, and the presenter, who was on the brink of the precipice,
fell down into it to the accompaniment of the Homeric, joyful
laughter of the audience; Being Head of the Department, I cant
enter into details My coauthor will answer this question.
SRC-05seminars.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 7
The Peculiar National Habit
It is hardly possible to overestimate the benefit to science of the
above tradition. However, just like any other man-made establish-
ment, when carried to its extreme, it become its polar opposite
My young friend (M), recently graduated from the University,
was in the Theoretical Department and devoted himself wholly,
with the ardor of youth, to scientific intercourse, trying not to miss
a single seminar. Usually after the seminars come to an end, M
called his brother and an old friend of mine (S), and we would go
out together to have lunch.
We walked from the building Z, and M walked from the main
block. When M was 10 steps apart from us, he began shouting,
addressing mainly S:
Damn, what a pity you were not there! I wish you had attended
that seminar! Saul (or Zhenya or Lyonya) has discovered
something quite wonderful, which fully transforms all our
ideas
S twisting his mouth and putting his hand into his pocket,
produced cigarettes, matches and begins smoking his cigarette,
obviously enjoying it. Then he severely asked How else can I tell
you? Whats the good of your seminar? Perhaps youll say it
yourself? M looked at him reproachfully and began mumbling
somewhat plaintively How can you say it without having been
there, without having heard anything
I attended that bloody seminar of yours a couple of times, and
Ill never set foot there again, answered S as severely as before.
If youd like to know, our seminar is one of the best, and
maybe the very best seminar in the world in the field theory!
Its not a seminar, its a Sabbath! S replied, getting wound up
You know, when I study a problem for two months, then no one
in the world, you see, NO ONE can tell me anything new about
this problem. As for your assemblage Saul himself had been working
*
All the three interlocutors belonged to the above-mentioned nation.
SRC-05seminars.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 8
9 S e mi n a r s
at that problem a whole YEAR, perhaps more. And no sooner he
writes on the board the first equation, than your Jewish mob
*
,
begins shouting Where from have you got that term? In the right
side of the equation you ought to have added the term describing
the pairwise interaction! Or else some other foolish thing. How
can you, asshole
, discuss the term that you see for the first time,
while I have been staring at it for a year! And you want me to
attend your provincial din?!
M ashamed, does not answer. We walked on and then S, without
changing the stern expression of his face, asks: So what did Saul
tell you about the gluon?
And young M, forgetting everything, begins to speak breath-
lessly
Latin and Greek Letters
One of Leningrads most prominent Hebrewists, Full Professor,
member of the International Commission involved in the processing
and publication of the Qumrans manuscripts, was invited to make
a presentation on philosophy at the All-Institute Seminar. The topic
of his presentation was Certain events at the beginning of the
new era.
I do not remember why, but everybody was very excited. When,
15 minutes before the beginning, I approached the assembly hall,
the door was locked and the corridor before it resembled a market
place in Israel.
Exactly at the appointed time the presenter appeared and informed
the audience that he had recently returned from Rome where he
participated in the Third (or maybe the Fourth?) International
Congress at which about 500 participants from more than 80
countries had been present. The participants discussed 5 (five) famous
lines from Joseph Flavius which said that while Pontius Pilate was
the Prosecutor of Judaea, a certain man named Joshua was crucified
In the original it is much stronger.

SRC-05seminars.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 9
during the Easter festival. But as his disciples say, on the third day
after the execution he was resurrected and rose to heaven
By that time I was sure that nothing could surprise me. I
happened to listen to the lectures of Pushkin
*
scholars from which
it was clear that they were not at all sorry, but on the contrary, felt
happy and honored to have spent 10 years of their lives establishing
exactly whether it was on the sixth or on the eighth of December
that Alexander Pushkin wrote to his eighty second lover
But 500 people from 80 countries! For the third time!! Apropos
the five lines!!!! And after all it is quite certain that while Pontius
Pilate was the Prosecutor of Judaea, several hundred people were
crucified. More than one of them had the name of Joshua What
has it to do with the ideas which divided the Roman Empire and
underlie the modern civilization? I looked around. People, much
cleverer than myself, and much more erudite, listened in quiet
fascination. I also began to listen, and soon found myself quite
hypnotized by that wonderful speaker.
He was saying that first these lines were met in the manuscript
by Flavius in the 10th century; that the manuscript was written in
the Coptic language and was found on the territory of modern
Syria
. He claimed that first everybody was sure that this was inter-
polation, i.e. the remark of some reader, written on the margin of
the book and later on introduced into the basic text by some semi-
literate monk-copyist. He said that much later, in quite another
country, another manuscript was found in which there were the
same 5 magic lines That made the interpolation far less probable.
Though, on the other hand
The reporter spoke about a wonderful discovery made by a
Russian scientist on the eve of the First World War and soon
forgotten in the whirlwind of events that would muddle the world
With tremendous speed he wrote those 5 lines on the board in
Coptic, in Aramaic, in Greek, in Latin
*
Alexander Pushkin (17991837) is the most famous Russian poet.
Cited from memory, so there may be some bad mistakes here.

SRC-05seminars.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 10
11 S e mi n a r s
When the speaker finally thanked the audience for their attention
and ceased talking, I discovered that I was sitting with my mouth
ajar, and apparently had been sitting in that position for an hour.
The crowd began to leak out through the single open door. (In
accordance with the common Russian custom only one door out of
the six was open.) While I was shuffling to the door, the former
doubts in the expedience of all that glamour returned to me. And
then, by mere chance, I was pushed up against an old friend of
mine, a man of immense knowledge, brilliant analytic intelligence
and a rare depth of thought.
Mike, I asked him with an independent air, what did you
think? Mike was deep in thought At last he said, How strange
it is to see so many Latin and Greek letters not linked by a sign of
equality.
Passionarity
Another presentation at the All-Institute seminar that was im-
printed in my memory was made by a famous historian engaged
in popularizing history, the author of the theory of so-called
passionarity, a bright lecturer and brilliant polemist.
A flourish of the pointer, and Philips phalanx tames the Greek
polices. The phalanx of Macedonians, led by his son Alexander,
cuts through the Persian Kingdom and fights the elephants on the
banks of Ind. Meanwhile, we learn about the nuptial customs of
the Ducks, about the design of their helmets, the length of their
spears and the long range of their bows. We learn about the favorite
dishes of Alexander, about the Persian roads and about the ways of
tanning leather, of which Aristotles sandals were made Another
flourish of the pointer, and from the Arabian desert, forgotten by
God, appear strange riders on horsebacks and atop camels. With
lighting speed there arises a New World with its new great religion,
which stretches from Toledo in the West to Samarkand in the East.
We learn how to saddle the camels, why together with Arabian
SRC-05seminars.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 11
troops Jews traveled to Bukhara, what the ancient roots of Ramadan
are, what customs of harems were and what rules Saladin was guided
by in regard to the Christians. All those and innumerable other
details merge together into a wonderful design, from whose contem-
plation one cannot tear himself away.
The pointer moves downward, and the Vikings venture to the
South-East coast of England, ravage Normandy, ransack Italy, flood
Sicily with blood, discover Greenland, and land in America. We
learn how they oriented in the open ocean, who are berserks, why
and when Herald saddles his horse to take part in the battle,
how to fight with two swords simultaneously.
Passionaries are the people who do not value what is precious
to ordinary people: peace, ones own safety and for ones children,
pleasant leisure hours, and comfort:
Day and night on horseback,
Rushing about the land.
Day and night crossing swords,
Causing bloodshed and rack.
Always forward,
East and West!
The eagle shining
On armoured breast
*
.
No one was aware that the audience was facing a short, stout
middle-aged man with a puffy face. More than that, all of us with
our flabby muscles, our pot-belles, bald-heads and short breath felt
in those moments as if we were passionaries.
Should the seminar have ended at that qualitative level, it would
have remained in our memory as a real festival of the human spirit.
Alas the speaker came over to figures, and the trained audience
regained consciousness. The lecturer postulated that passionarity,
having once appeared, exists quite a definite period. He named that
period. But as soon as he began proving it by examples, the audi-
*
The verse by Joseph Brodsky
SRC-05seminars.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 12
13 S e mi n a r s
ence who had cut their teeth on adjusting the experiments to
theory began to cough, to whisper, to smirk; the arbitrariness of
the criterion was seen with the naked eye. But the speaker did not
notice anything, he was passing over to the main thing, looking at
these latitudinal (Macedonian, the Arabs) or longitudinal (Vikings)
zones of passionarity, one cannot but come to the conclusion that
at certain moments a cosmic ray cuts through the
At that moment the secretary of the seminar said very firmly and
even grimly, It isnt necessary here The speaker got silent. For
several seconds he seemed to be struggling to say something, and
then pronounced quietly, Thats basically all I wanted to tell you
today.
The secretary stood up and pronounced the usual phrase, Any
questions, please? Several hands were raised in different parts of
the hall, but the secretary somehow demurred. I followed his glance
and grew cold All the local mad-men, authors of the most
intricate projects of perpetual mobile, worshippers of bio-energetic,
fighters against the first and second laws of thermodynamics all
of them turned towards the speaker like sun-flowers to the sun.
Apparently, the secretary was vainly looking for someone who could
be expected to ask a normal question. However, pathologists are
a passionate public, and the most passionate of them jumped up
without waiting to be invited. But thats exactly what superconduc-
tivity is, he cried out.
I could not stand it and rushed out of the hall. A couple of
minutes later people with better nerves began to leave the hall.
Well, whats going on? I asked a good friend of mine. Coppers
boil, he grinned gravely. And answering to my bewildered look,
he cited a poet:
I see a mountain, almost buried,
On which some coppers boil, and sing.
In that abominable game
A Jew and Frog are getting married.
An extract from the famous verse by Pushkin.

SRC-05seminars.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 13
I peeped timidly into the hall.
A small group of people crowded in the middle of the room,
shouting The first-order phase transition, Second-order,
Its a percolation, thats clear! Akelas howl drowned everything,
I tell you those are the same Coopers pairs
The lecturer, his face quite pale, was cautiously moving towards
the exit. No one paid any attention to him though.
Table of Ranks
Apart from scientific and philosophic seminars, there were also social-
political seminars. As a rule, at those seminars the decisions of the
Communist Party and the Soviet Government were elucidated. It
should be admitted that in the majority of the laboratories the
authorities did not manifest any special enthusiasm, believing that
the qualification of the employees will enable them to read
newspapers and draw their own necessary conclusions. It is clear,
however, that the crucial decisions and especially those concerning
science could not be left to their discretion.
In late 70s, one more Decree about the rapprochement of science
and industry was published, and the social-political seminar was
convened in the theoretical department. Having religiously repeated
the content of the Decree, the speaker, who was Party Organizer of
the Department, explained that in light of that Decree, every
first-rate theoretician must work together with the experimentalists
if it is absolutely impossible to collaborate (which would be the
best) with the people engaged in production. Then he asked, Any
questions?
According to the mute agreement there were to be no questions,
butthere was a question.
Do I take it in the right way that in light of this Decree, NN
is to be considered a first-rate theoretician, Max Plank must be
theoretician of the second rate, and Albert Einstein of the third
rate?
SRC-05seminars.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 14
15 S e mi n a r s
NN, chosen as a standard, was a respectable specialist who col-
laborated much and very fruitfully with the experimentalists. In that
audience, however, that question sounded as if someone had asked,
Am I right, that in light of this Decree, a mouse is to be considered
the biggest mammal, a bull somewhat smaller, and the blue whale,
according to that Decree, was to be considered the smallest.
The speaker found himself in a very difficult position and his
answer did him credit. Thats right, he said.
Tea Seminar
In a Russian hut, the icon takes a place of honor. In Rome, the
figures of Penates were placed near the fireplace. Sometimes I think
about where one should place The Spirit of Russian Science if it
were possible to represent it in the form of an icon or in shape of
a domestic idol.
In such cases, I usually imagine a room full of smoke on the 6th
floor of some building at the Ioffe. There are two tables in there,
which are so shabby that no beggar could be attracted to them, a
few chairs with torn seats, and a sofa, which not even the wildest
dreamer could be tempted by. Any attempt to make the room
more cozy would end in failure. The curtains would gradually give
way, no one taking the trouble to mend them, and sometime later
they would disappear. The flowers having long since died as no one
remembered to water them. Once a cactus had lived almost a year
and the question was discussed more than once whether it lived off
tobacco smoke. This vitality could not be explained alternative way.
An icon-lamp is lit in front of the icon. Pieces of food are placed
before the figures of Penates. In this room every day for more than
a quarter of a century they have been serving The Spirit of Science.
The oblation to this fastidious idol takes the most diverse forms
In 1982, it struck one of the rooms custodians that they should
establish there a new type of seminar. That idea failed to impress
anyone. A general weekly seminar had already been working many
SRC-05seminars.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 15
years at the Theoretical Department. Private seminars had been
working in practically every section of the Theoretical Department.
There are several dozens laboratories at the Ioffe Institute and
practically every laboratory had its own seminar. So the idea did
not strike anyone as new. More than that, it was supplemented with
a number of details which made one believe that the idea not only
strike him, but that it was instilled in him.
As a rule, seminars take place in the morning when ones head is
fresh. That seminar was fixed for 5 p.m. Usually they try to find a
comfortable spacious room (assuming that crowds of people will
attend it). That seminar was to take place in that very room where
not more than a score of chairs could be placed. The well-wishers
pointed out that at 5 p.m. all rooms were vacant and one could
choose any room one liked. The man in charge said no! without
explaining anything. True, from the very beginning it was believed
that the regular participants of the seminar would be offered tea
with a bun (which was thought to be a Dutch treat). However,
even now tea with a bun will not be tempting for any theoretician.
According to the apt remark of Saltykov-Schedrin
*
, in 1982 any
serf had good bread and, not infrequently, cabbage soup too and
with some other hot meal . The temptation was hardly great.
Fifteen years have passed. The common weekly theoretical seminar
has passed away. Many laboratory and sectional seminars no longer
exist
Every five years the tea seminar modestly, though with dignity,
celebrated its jubilee.
There are 52 weeks in a year. Excluding the 3 summer months,
we surmise that working if held EVERY week for 5 years the
weekly seminar had to have taken place 180 times. During the first
5 years the tea seminar had 130 sittings, during the second 5
years 140, during the third 5 years 125, (mind, those years
were counted from 1992!). That year prices for everything all of a
sudden became 15 times higher than before, and Doctors of Science,
*
Mikhail E. Saltykov-Schedrin (18261889) is the famous Russian satirist.
SRC-05seminars.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 16
17 S e mi n a r s
in order to sustain their families, worked as mere peddlers in small
shops or delivered newspapers.
And now, should I happen to walk along the corridor of the
sixth floor on Thursday at 5 p.m., I am sure to see the backs of
young theoreticians for whom there is no room in the small hall.
Should I come nearer, they will step aside, glasses of tea in hand,
giving way out of respect to my gray hair (or to my bald spot). I
will look into the hall and will see a presenter at the board, dripping
with sweat, and theoreticians of a venerable age sitting on the
chairs, each with a glass of tea in hand. The maximum distance
between the participants is 3 meters. It is difficult to be puffed up,
or to tell lies at such a short distance. To play the fool while
drinking tea with ones colleagues is not easy either. Perhaps herein
lies the secret of the homey atmosphere and absolute sincerity of
that sacramental action in the face of The Spirit of the Science?
In the roll of the presenters I see the names of the present
tenured and full Professors of the Universities of the USA, England,
France, Norway, former members of the Ioffe, driven away from
the country by famine. If any of them come to Petersburg, they
try, as a rule, to make their presentations at the tea seminar. And
everyone with whom I have discussed this topic, has said that there
is nothing like that seminar in the world. At that seminar both
current and eternal questions are discussed. And there is hardly any
such part of physics that had not been in the field of vision of the
tea seminar.
Sometimes, I think about where one should place The Spirit of
Russian Science if it were possible to represent it in the form of an
icon or in shape of a domestic idol. Most often, I think of the
small room full of tobacco smoke on the 6th floor in one of the
buildings of my Institute.
SRC-05seminars.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 17

This page intentionally blank
SEMINARS WHICH DID NOT TAKE PLACE
Rosa Kuleshova and the Theoretician
In the mid 80s, the name of Rosa Kuleshova, the famous healer
and clairvoyant, was known to all the country over. Her fame could
compete only with the fame of the abominable Snowman or with
the Loch Ness monster. The honorable Rosa read with her fingers
(and with more intimate parts of the body) letters sealed in light-
proof envelops, with her hands she deviated the laser ray, she burned
skeptics from a distance, cured any disease, and in case of necessity
could bewitch with the evil eye.
Once, at the entrance to the Ioffes main building, someone had
hung up two issues of newspaper. One of them described the
miracles performed by Rosa Kuleshova, the other contained their
denunciation. After reading them both I became firmly convinced
of my intellectual atheism and paid them no further heed. About
10 days later, when walking to the library, I saw N, one of the
Institutes most prominent theoreticians, a man of perfect repute,
having a keen analytic intellect, and of immense worldly wisdom.
That man bent short-sighted over the newspaper describing Rosas
exploits and studied it attentively.
I passed by, returned some books, had a short chat with someone
and again happened to be at the entrance. N was still standing
there in the same pose and still reading as attentively as before. I
could not control myself, Dear me! What have you found in this
nonsense? I asked disrespectfully. N turned towards me, dignified.
And you, Mike, have you found nothing interesting here? In my
opinion there are a lot things here which are of the upmost interest.
I grew cold
It goes without saying that the common conviction that profes-
sional study of science serves as an immunization against prejudice
towards or belief in miracles is nothing but a delusion. Never
before had any seminar assembled so many people as that which
19
SRC-06seminars which.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 19
took place on that memorable day, when the presentation was
made by a man who cured every disease by laying on the sick
person a dog, which had been cut beforehand in the proper place.
Apparently, among the PhD holders and the Doctors of Science the
percentage of those who believe in the evil eye, in bio-energetics,
parapsychology, and in re-incarnation is perhaps as high as among
the inmates of a barrack in North-Urals prison camp.
But N? It was impossible to believe. Look here, Mike, N
went on meanwhile, she rotates the magnetic needle by merely
making rotary motions over the compass. We must invite her to
make a presentation at the All-Institute seminar. I am sure it will be
most interesting and instructive for us to see it
But N! I exclaimed in despair, I am sure there is a magnet
fixed in her bra! That is what is rotating the needle!!
Thats it which is so interesting! N parried, returning to
me my faith in humanity. The Seminar by Kuleshova never took
place And its a great pity, as I can see it now.
Misunderstanding
One of the heads of the theoretical group felt peculiar towards
those who wanted to present their theses not in those places where
they were made. It is difficult to explain the reason for this hostility;
reading ones thesis at a place other than where the thesis was
made is quite ordinary. It happens quite frequently. Nevertheless,
that man declared repeatedly that the authors of such dissertations
should be regarded as people (rather as nits) who try to slip away
from the criticism of those who are familiar with their work; or as
degenerates who try to plagiarize the results of their colleagues.
The research fellows of that group were certainly cognizant of this
oddity of their boss. But naturally they did not parade it.
One fine day, the head of the big experimental laboratory
addressed the secretary of that groups seminar, a young theoretician,
Mike, he said, my grad-student at the University has completed
21 S e mi n a r s Wh i c h D i d N o t Ta k e P l a c e
his thesis. The thesis is all but ready, but I want him, for certain
reasons, to defend his thesis not at the University, but here, at the
Ioffe. I would not feel comfortable to give him a warrant from my
laboratory. His dissertation, however, contains a theoretical part
that is quite congenial to the interests of your group. What do you
think about conducting his seminar in your section and then
providing him with the warrant for his thesis defense at the Ioffe?
Such a request was quite common and therefore, seeing that his
interlocutor was obviously quite embarrassed, the Head of the
Laboratory was astonished. Especially since he knew the secretary
to be a clever and benevolent man.
Mike, whats wrong? He asked. Oh, nothing, oh, yes You
see, the presentation to be made at the seminar is to be settled by
the head of the group, NN. I cant give you an answer without
consulting him
Is NN here now? It seems to me he is, so lets go to him
now
A few seconds later both of them were at NN s office and the
Head of the Laboratory repeated his request.
NN was sure that his opinion in regard to the defense of the
thesis was not only common knowledge, but was also shared by all
decent people. So he understood the request without ambiguity.
Its good that you have applied directly to our group. Bring
this scum here and we will beat him to a pulp! But be sure to let
me have his text beforehand, so that my colleagues and myself
might have time to get prepared properly
Here NN paid attention to the fact that his interlocutors eyes
got glassy, his face became crimson and he halted. There was a
pause ending in quite an unexpected way. Making a strange sound,
as if choking or coughing, the third participant rushed headlong
out of the room.
I felt, he told us later, that should I stay there a moment
longer, I would have burst out laughing in the most indecent way.
I leaped out of the room and began to guffaw, splitting my sides
with laughter. No sooner did I settle down, than I remember
HOW they had stared at each other and again I am tickled to
death. Then the door opened and the head of the laboratory rushed
out. He noticed whats happened to me and asked, Mike, so you
foresaw it?
I couldnt even answer him, just nodded. Then the door opened
again and I could hardly hide myself round the corner, when NN
appeared. Evidently he lagged behind, for it took him sometime
to rise from his chair and walk round his table, so he shouted after
the Head of the Laboratory who was running away: Be sure to
bring him here, by all means!
ORDERS
While working at the Ioffe, I read and looked through perhaps more
than a thousand different orders: about dismissal, about awards, about
going to agricultural work, about improving the labor discipline, about
appointments and displacements and God knows what else. To tell
the truth, none of them were imprinted in my mind. The strongest
impressions were made, of course, by the orders concerning discharges.
But not a single one could be compared to the ancient sample.
Orders About Discharges
(May 31, 1743)
By the decree of HER EMPRESS MAJESTY, the office of the
Academy of Sciences found the following employees unnecessary
and unwanted, and in the interests of HER EMPRESS MAJESTY
they should be dismissed from the Academy:
The schoolteacher Fisher is not qualified to teach the Russian
people and does not know the Russian language well enough,
besides he is quite stupid, and moreover, while at work, he is often
quite drunk, and is the laughing stock of his pupils.
Peter Gavrilov, a printer, has a salary of fifty rubles, and though
he does his work, he is under suspicion, for he has been whipped
publicly. According to the order people who are under suspicion
should not be employed here.
The watchman Andrey Tupov, under the charge of Professor
Kraft, who is responsible for physical experiments has a salary of
thirty-six rubles a year, but he does not do anything so he must be
dismissed from the Academy
Materials for the History of the Academy of Sciences
23
SRC-07orders.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 23
Nevertheless, there were orders in my time that I put down and
keep quite carefully. Those are the ORDERS FOR THE ROOM,
which preserve that very Spirit of Science, which it is so hard to
define.
As is well known, on the door of each office, or close to it,
there is a standard signboard. In the Western Institutes such a
signboard usually contains the name of the man or woman working
there. But in Russia as a rule there are several people who work in
one office, the signboard though contains the name of only one
person who is Responsible for the Room. What that means,
what the person is responsible for, and to whom he or she is
responsible, nobody seems to know even now. And no one has ever
thought about it since 1917. However, one of the Ioffe theoreticians,
after he had been in charge of a room for 10 years, came to the
conclusion that the high rank of the Chief of the Room imposed
a certain responsibility upon him. And he began issuing ORDERS
FOR THE ROOM. He issued 22 orders. Here are four of them
Order No 4. On conservation of the
angular momentum
For room 000
(1) In connection with the beginning of the springsummer season,
there arises a number of organizational questions on the agenda.
They are the following: the appropriate distribution of the duties;
the concentration of efforts of the collective on the main
problems; the control of things one is in charge of, which must
not (and cannot) be substituted by petty guardianship
Among these questions angular momentum (AM) is of a consid-
erable importance. Its conservation must become the main care of
our working collective.
In accordance with it I ORDER:
SRC-07orders.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 24
25 O r d e r s
(2) To make every effort to conserve AM.
(3) Until the present order is canceled, to assume that H = E
*
.
Chief of the room
(Signature)
March 23 1982
Order No 7. About publications marked
with the roman numeral X
For room 000

(1) Due to some special circumstances, in the future try to restrain
yourself from publishing any papers devoted to the pressing
problems in the fields of solid, liquid or gaseous state physics.
(2) If as an exception such a publication has taken place, item 3 of
this Order comes into force.
(3) One copy of that publication should be handed into the Chief
of the Room for its preservation, registration, and promulgation
for those interested.
(4) Publications containing arithmetic mistakes, incorrect state-
ments, results presenting no scientific significance, formulas
with incorrect dimensions, as well as publications which are not
clear and/or tame should be marked by the Roman numeral X
and should be stored especially in accordance with established
procedures.
Chief of the room
(Signature)
June 2 1982
*
The content of this section is not obligatory for those scientists who are on a business
trip, or on sick leave, or else giving birth to children or being on leave for any other
circumstance enumerated in List 16-c and in other normative documents.
The symbol X denotes not only the Roman numeral, but also the first letter of the
most popular bad Russian swear-word.
SRC-07orders.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 25
Order No 14. About urgent problems
For room 000
Section 1. I bring to the notice of all scientists a list of problems
that need solving and indicate the corresponding rewards.
1. What is the nature of the fractional steps in the Hall quantum
effect?
Recording in the book of honor
2. What is the nature of the 1/f noise?
Treadle sewing machine
3. In which case does the coffee cool sooner: if one puts sugar at
once, or right before drinking?
A cup of coffee
4. Why does the speed of reaction in forming nickel carbonate
oscillate as function of the magnetic field? [Soviet Physics JETF
67, 2326 (1974)]
A bottle of dry wine
5. Is there a solution of the equation x
n
+ y
n
= z
n
in integer
numbers x, y, z, and n>2? (The problem of Fermat)
A bottle of brandy
6. Why does a bubble which has torn itself away from the bottom
of the tea kettle float up not vertically but along a spiral path?
3 rubles
7. What was the state of the Universe before the Big Bang?
Promotion to the next rank
8. What is the nature of dry friction?
A bottle of port
9. In what way do successive divisions of a single cell produce a
human being?
A set of childrens clothing made in China
SRC-07orders.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 26
27 O r d e r s
10. A neutron has flown into GaAs and collided with a nucleus of
Ga. What is the probability of the generation of an electron-
hole pair?
Perfume Carmen
11. The same for the collision with a nucleus of As.
Eau-de-Cologne Shipr
*
12. What is the nature of ball lighting?
A business trip in North Siberia in December
Section 2. To avoid abuse, the solutions of the problems indicated
in Sec. 1 should be handed in sealed envelopes marked with a
special symbol.
Chief of the room
(Signature)
December 22 1982
Order No 16. About the theft of a
tea-kettle and damage to a lock
For room 000
Section 1. In connection with the setting in of the spring-summer
period, some scientists manifest an increased hormone secretion as
well as violation of the neurohumoral regulation. Meanwhile, in
the room I am in charge of, a lock has been broken, and this
situation has created prerequisites for the development of negative
tendencies. Thus, on the night of 21st

or 22nd of March of this
year, unknown robbers have stolen a device for heating water up to
the temperature of 373 K, based on the thermal action of the
electric current (tea kettle).
*
Something similar to Old Spice.
SRC-07orders.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 27
Therefore I ORDER:
Section 2. Captain D.G.P. is appointed to be in charge of the
working group, which is to repair the lock or to install a new one
in accordance with State Regulations.
Section 3. Captain A.P.D. is to return the electric cord with three
pins at one end and two holes at the other into its initial position.
He is also to consider the question of where goes the electricity
from the third pin.
Section 4. The control of the execution of this ORDER I take
upon myself personally. The control of myself is assigned to my
immediate chief.
Chief of the room
(Signature)
March 26 1986
SRC-07orders.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 28
WINTER SCHOOLS
Beginning in 1969, every spring the Ioffe Institute would organize
Semiconductor Winter Schools. In late February or early March the
schoolboys and schoolgirls went to the country for a week to attend
lectures, to go skiing, to have a drink and a snack. Which of those
items determined interest in these schools is a question which remained
unexplored. At any rate, the 15-year-old tradition was interrupted
right after the ANTI-ALCOHOL DECREE issued by Gorbachev into
effect. After the persecutions stopped, it took 10 years for the community
to pick it up.
Plan of Cultural Program for the
2nd Semiconductor School of the IOFFE Institute
02/21/1970 (8.30 p.m.) A party for entering into pure relations.
After the relations dancing (the person in charge Dr. Koptev Ju. I).
02/22/ (8.45 p.m.) Day off. And a light cocktail (in the rooms).
After that dancing (the person in charge Academic Tuchkevich
V. M.).
02/23/ (11 p.m.) Musical dramatic staging of the novel
Vasya Tyorkin
After Vasya dancing (the person in charge Prof. Shmartsev Ju.V.).
02/24/ (11.45 p.m.) The club Our Opinion
Sexual intellect or intellectual sexuality? The public debate is conducted by
Prof. E. I. Adirovich.
After sex dancing.
02/25/ (8.30 p.m.) Our guest is ex-champion of the town of Minsk
Academic.
Zh. I. Alferov. Spassky and myself a show of Alferovs playing chess
simultaneously with many players, his eyes bandaged.
After the game dancing.
29
SRC-08winter schools.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 29
02/26/ (Midnight) Holography and Modern Pornography
Slides in color will be shown by Prof. M. M. Bredov.
After holography dancing.
02/27/ (11 p.m.) Small vaudeville Much ado about nothing
performed by Dr. A. A. Kastalsky.
After the ado dancing.
02/28/ (Midnight) Virtual-resonance-impotential movements
of the body in modern dance. Prof. Zakharchenya B. P. is speaking and
showing.
After that dancing (without candles).
03/01/ (8.30 p.m.) International review: Mr. Brodsky G.
International spies among us (with a public denunciation).
After that a banquet with dancing.
03/02 (8 p.m.) Ways and methods of matrimonial life in the
new society.
The public debate is to be conducted by Dr. Tsarenkov B. V.
After that dancing etc.
03/03/ (8.30 p.m.) Our guests are: a young producer with young
starlets from the Leningrad Film Studio. Soviet Anti-Striptease in movie.
(The person in charge is Prof. Ipatova I.P.).
Nemesis
Dancing constitutes a very important and integral element of any
school, which always confronted the Organizing Committee with a
puzzling problem. On one hand, they had to accommodate the
respectable lecturers and professors in such a way that they might
be able go to sleep at least after 1 a.m. On the other hand, it was
necessary to see that the most active part of the public might be
able to sublimate the energy they had stored during the lectures.
As a rule, some way or another everything would be O.K., although
sometimes there were mishaps
At the school I am talking about, in the hall of the second floor,
there was a tape-recorder and two speakers, 50 Watts each. When
31 Wi n t e r S c h o o l
switched on full blast, they could raise the dead from their coffins
from the nearest village cemetery. The sublimers, however, were
expected to display a certain restraint and intellectual self-restriction.
The most frenzied fans of Terpsichore had to be settled down in
the immediate proximity of the hall. The lecturers, the members of
Organizing Committee and their favorites settled on the first floor,
the maximum distance from the noise. Others, depended on their
luck.
During the first few days, the public enjoyed themselves rather
sluggishly. After 10 p.m. several pairs shuffled in the hall to quiet
music till midnight, and by 12:30 a.m. the angel of silence embraced
the hotel where the school was located There were, however,
two critical days: the eve of the day off and the last one before
conclusion. Why the first critical day passed without any compli-
cations remains unknown. The storm broke on the eve of departure.
After midnight the public who had previously taken some strong
drinks in their rooms set the music as loud as possible. At 1 oclock
a young woman, wearing a robe, came out of her room next to the
hall, approached the tape-recorder, lowered the loudness and without
raising her voice explained that she wanted to sleep and at one a.m.
had the right to do so. She then returned to her room quietly.
About 20 people were dancing, but the womans inner strength
and her conviction that she was right impressed them. The music
was made hardly audible, which, as everybody knows, has its own
advantages. Another half-hour passed. Some who were present during
the incident left, others came. Little by little the music got louder
and by 2 a.m in the morning the music

blared loudest.
Again the same young woman wearing the same robe came out
of the same room and in her voice, full of an inner strength, and
with the conviction of being right cited the Bill of Rights. And
again she made an impression and it became quiet
An hour later new screams cut the nights silence. For three
minutes or so, people were zealously enjoying themselves. Then the
door of the room was flung open, and Valkyrie rushed out of it in
a transparent night gown with her hair running loosely. It was
women who gave a shout. The men were frozen A spear of rage
cut the hall. In a single motion the tape-recorder was lifted, the
wires torn out and the entire device was thrown out a window left
ajar since the night was rather warm. Then before even the spriest
of the men had time to close his mouth, Erinys disappeared.
The angel of silence again stretched his hands over the hotel
where the school was housed...
The Stress Put in the Right Way
Dances, drinking and lectures those are the three whales on
whose backs, according to common opinion, the Winter, Spring,
Summer and Autumn Schools were based (and will be based). The
importance of the second item can be easily demonstrated by the
following example. In 1985, the Ioffes Winter School, after 16
years of fruitful work, ceased its existence. Despite the fact that the
Ioffe was well off and the intellectual potential of the Institute was
splendid.
The reason was formulated quite distinctly by the permanent
director of the Ioffe Schools Volodya Volle, I dont want to be
imprisoned. The point was that that year the sadly memorable
Gorbachev Anti-Alcohol Law was introduced. It was organized in a
sweeping Russian style. Banquets after the defense of the Thesis
were prohibited. To celebrate any event at the office meant to find
oneself in the hands of KGB informer. Conductors in the trains,
including even the elite train The Arrow, would break into the
compartment with the policemen, and upon discovering four people
splitting a bottle, would make up an INCIDENT REPORT
informing ones authorities at work of the event.
Knowing quite clearly that the Schools could not exist without
drinking, Volodya resigned and science came to an end.
One should not fancy the role of alcohol primitively and imag-
ine night orgies with fighting, crying and so on. Nothing of the
kind. In the best antique traditions wine (and vodka) strengthened
friendship, loosened the tongue, and helped to establish innocent
connections and scientific contacts...
At one of the Schools, a friend invited me to his room for a
wine-glass of tea. The second guest was a theoretician and our
common old acquaintance whose name was, lets say, BAlmont, with
the stress on the first syllable. This will help explain further events.
We enjoyed a snack with our vodka and as habit would have it,
reviling the Soviet Social and State system.
There was a knock on the door and a young boy of Central-
Asian nationality entered the room. Who among you is BalmOnt?
he asked, stressing the last syllable. Its me, said our amiable
friend, who believed that it did not matter what one called you,
according to the Russian saying You may call me a pot, provided
you do not put me into the oven.
Professor N asks that you come to his room immediately.
It did not sound very polite, though perhaps that was due to
the fact that the young man did not know Russian so well. Besides,
the incorrect stress in the name was not accidental. Professor N
had been working in France for quite a while and he would always
call our friend in the manner of the French. Common acquaintances
more than once pointed out to the professor that the purely Jewish
name BAlmont had nothing at all to do with France, and that he
would hardly be pleased at all if he were called not N but M, or W,
but nothing helped. The professor had been told (more than once)
an anecdote about an educated lady who was blaming a drunk man
who mispronounced the word masturbate, putting the stress in
the wrong place, Sir! Firstly, you should say not masturbAte but
mAsturbate. Secondly, will you be so kind as to step aside. The
child cannot see the dick! That did not help either
Ill come in a moment, Boris Balmont said and began lacing
his shoes, paying no attention to the stress being in the wrong
place or to the subtlety of politeness.
Good, the young man said, turning and making for the door.
You, fellow! a stern voice of rooms host sounded like the voice
of Providence. The young man stopped dead. Tell Professor N
that Boris BAlmont asked to tell him the following, Should he
again say BalmOnt with the stress at the end, Boris will make his
nose bleed. And let him forget about the Luttinger Hamiltonian.
Good, the young man said and turning again and again making
for the door. Wait! Wait! screamed Boris and with his shoes
unlaced, rushed to the door, Ill go with you!
Good, the young man said for the third time and both of
them disappeared, Boris casting a reproachful glance at us.
Yes, the host of the room said, we havent drunk quite
enough, I havent found the necessary words. BalmOnt! The
child cannot see the dick
About the Mystery of a Womans Soul
The Winter theoretical school, called Kaurovka, enjoyed a very
good reputation. It always took place in the Urals, where living
conditions are rather severe and where, what are called the facilities
(i.e. the lavatory, or, more exactly the latrine) are outside the
house. A term which can be used and understood only by Russians.
Ski trousers, a sweater and warm boots were considered the uniform.
Fops wore sweaters with a V-neck, making it possible to see a fresh
white shirt and tie underneath. However beneath the shirt an
attentive eye could spot woolen underwear.
One of the well known theoreticians of the Ioffe Institute upon
coming to Kaurovka discovered that his presentation was to take
place on the morning of the very last day. It goes without saying
that the Organizing Committee did so on purpose; the theoretician
(let us call him A) was famous for his wonderful oratory and for
his vastly interesting presentations.
It would be unjust not to make the best of it. And A started
conducting an absolute siege of one of the few ladies who was a
student of the school.
As he would say later, the lady was willingly discussing with him
problems of the theory, graciously listening to the verses of the
disgraced Mandelstam, smiling tenderly, and enjoying the exchange
of light kisses while on the ski-track. The temperature being minus
30C it was absolutely harmless and of no consequences. But all
his attempts to make any progress or to achieve some result ended
in failure.
A was young, fascinating, ambitious and proud. He redoubled
his efforts. He wrote Hamiltonians taking account of the warping.
He cited Rilke. He performed miracles on the ski-track and was
participated brilliantly in the evening discussions. The lady smiled
even more tenderly, complained more often about her husband in
Moscow, and made some vague promises.
There was just one single night left. The ladys friend, who
shared a room with her, had left the day before. A had been sitting
with the lady in her room up till 3 a.m. in the morning! They
emptied a bottle of famed Georgian wine, which according to his
plan, was to crown the success!! And nothing.
After 3 a.m., A crawled into his room, illogically blaming the
lady, covered the trousers of his best suit with a sheet of plywood,
putting them under his mattress to be ironed, and began thinking
of his presentation. In the morning, fresh, smart, cleanly shaven,
wearing his best jacket which had been hanging for a week so that
all the creases were removed, A began to make his presentation
trying not to look at the lady, who was sitting in the last row and
smiling, it seemed, with a special tenderness. Questions, please,
announced the chairman. Answering one of the questions, A noticed,
not without surprise, that a note was being passed from the back of
the hall. It was unusual in Kaurovka to put questions forth in such
secretive form. The note reached him at last. He unfolded it. Oh,
you, silly one! was written there in the familiar hand. Instead of
wasting a week on talks, you ought to have put on this suit on the
very first evening!
A told me that story ten years later. You know, he concluded,
till the end of my days, I may be trying to guess whether or not
she wrote the truth.
You are a fool, I responded. I bet she did not know it
herself .
Hm! Perhaps you are right, concluded A.
Operator of a Secondary Quantization
The most unpleasant thing for any lecturer at any school, especially
a Winter school, is having their lecture in the morning. People go
to bed late, and young people sleep soundly. You may happen to
give a lecture just to the chairman. The Organizing Committee is
no fool, of course! If one oversleeps, he gets no breakfast. But if
one is young it is so difficult to struggle against Morpheus
At one of the schools the lecture On the physical nature of
superconductivity meant to enlighten the experimentalists, was fixed
to take place in the morning.
I struggled to overcome my sleepiness, got up, somehow put on
my trousers and, in hopes of fame and good intentions, dragged
myself to the hall.
There my sleepiness left me in a pickle. The theoretician who
was the lecturer of the same school and who was well known on
the one hand for his getting up no earlier than 11 a.m. unless he
were to climb up a mountain pass, but nonetheless known for his
wonderful publications on various aspects of superconductivity, was
there sitting in the hall. It was obvious he was going to listen to a
popular lecture.
Dear me! What are you doing here?
I want to listen to the lecture.
Why should you? You seem to know everything as it is.
Yes, I do. In the sense that I can calculate everything. But,
between us, I do not understand what superconductivity is. Maybe
I will understand it today.
It surprised me how inscrutable Gods ways are. I sat down next
to him. The lecturer began beautifully, When at the beginning of
the century Kamerling Onnes The thermal motion of electrons
gets slower, The current once excited in the circuit,
Mohammeds coffin, hovering in the air,
He mentioned numerous practical applications, a new branch of
science, new problems, arising as soon as the old ones were solved,
In spite of my neighbors restraint, I felt that he was getting joyfully
excited.
I am on the cusp of understanding it now, he whispered to
me. And now, the lecturer went on, to move forward, let us
introduce the operator of the secondary quantization
My neighbor noisily moved his chair, got up and left the hall. It
seemed to me he swore. Though I cannot warrant that.
Electron in a Potential Well
At one of the schools, B, a young theoretician from Moscow, made
a presentation on which some remarks were made. One of them
nonplused the presenter and made him feel quite at a loss. In the
evening, B came to the room which I shared with the offender
to talk the matter over. I became a witness of a very instructive
conversation. Consider an infinite-dimensional continuum of Fermi-
particles, on which the wave function is determined everywhere
except perhaps at singular points, B began.
Just a minute, my neighbor interrupted him. And after a
pause which lasted 15 seconds asked,
What is it? Electron in a potential well?
Bs face became distorted with disgust. He kept still too and
then with obvious effort finally sighed Yes!
After another pause he went on, quickly resuming his initial
tempo and flourishing before our eyes,
Let us now assume that the wave function vanishes at the
origin
Just a minute, my neighbor again interrupted. What is it? Is
there no electron in the potential well?
For a moment it seemed to me that B would be sick. He
swallowed several times. Then with obvious disgust he said, No,
there is not!
Some more exchanges of a similar nature and somehow everything
became clear.
B grew silent, got up and left.
The Odessa PentaBoris
The May School of Theoretical Physics in Odessa is still being
recalled by many theoreticians with sobs of nostalgia. One could go
there with ones wife. If one so wanted with a child. The sea, the
sun, the hot sand
Most of the students basked in the sun on the beach during the
breaks between the lectures.
A typical theoretical hubbub was heard and some people lifted
their head. Five young theoreticians from the Ioffe gesticulated,
walking along the path towards the sea. Odessa pentaBoris,
mumbled someone displeased.
The five of them were:
Boris Altshuler now Professor of Princeton University, USA
Boris Gelmont now Professor of University of Virginia,
Charlottesville, USA
Boris Laikhtman now Professor of Jerusalem University,
Jerusalem, Israel
Boris ShklovskII now Professor of University of Minnesota,
USA
Boris Spivak now Professor of Washington University, Seattle,
USA.
FOREIGNERS AT THE IOFFE INSTITUTE
An American
Glory, Glory, Alleluia!
It was Spring of 1968. Loud singing was heard in the hall near the
library. A young man was singing Glory, glory, alleluia!
Many of my acquaintances assured me that I was the only one
who sang in the corridors of the Institute, so first of all I felt
myself. Making certain that I was not the guilty party, I turned
round the corner and saw a strange sight. A clean-shaven gentleman,
his hair well cropped and his trousers perfectly ironed, stood singing
before two theoreticians, trying in vain to make them join in that
creative process. They shifted from one foot to the other.
On singing the refrain three times in a most kindled manner,
the gentleman raised his hand in the international greeting gesture
for Victory, Victory Day was 2 days away. Grasping the flap of a
friend of mine passing by, I asked him how I should have taken
that, and what that actually meant.
The young American theoretician, Din, got to Ioffe according
to some kind of International or even Intergovernmental agree-
ment about scientific exchange. The agreement mentioned thou-
sands of details, but not all of them. The senior scientist from
the Ioffe went for a year to Dins Institute alone, leaving his family
in Leningrad. He went mad with joy when he learned that his
salary would be $22,000 a year (this sum in 1968 is would be
approximately $80,000 in 1999). Though quite soon he was in-
vited to the Soviet Embassy and was told that he had to give
practically all the money to the Embassy. What was left was just
enough for the most modest food and for the souvenirs to be
bought at the flea market.
Din, quite naturally, came here for a year with his wife and three
children. And he was about to return when he learned that his
39
SRC-09foreigners.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 39
salary was 175 rubles per month. In accordance with the course of
the dollar at the black market, i.e. its actual course, that made for
about $420 a year...
But everything was somehow settled. The authorities began taking
steps and eventually Dins salary was adjusted to 500 rubles a
month, he was given lodging at the flat of an academician free of
charge, and some other benefits. In short, they had the matter out.
Din proved to be a most amiable man, quite nice, well brought up,
and sociable. A month later he began shaving every other day, he
stopped having his hair cut short, stopped ironing his trousers and
two months later, if silent, it was impossible to distinguish him
from any other theoretician at the Ioffe. Besides, he made very
good progress in his Russian. His favorite phrase was Thank you.
I have understood many things.
Beer
In that very year, 1968, my friend and I sent our first article to a
foreign journal. I cannot say the undertaking was unheard of, but
in those days it was rather exotic. The article was returned with
quite a favorable review though with a remark that the English
need be polished. In particular, we were to point out where we
meant angels and where angles. We applied to Din, he corrected
the text and the article was safely published.
To celebrate that occasion we invited Din to partake in some
beer with us. He willingly agreed. It was decided that we would
take him to the famous CELLAR. At the last moment, my co-
author fell ill, and the hopes of the nation were concentrated on
me.
When we turned round the corner and saw the entrance to the
cellar, I was dumbfounded. There was a line of people that stretched
for about 150 meters.
Din, I said, I do not think it is good here. Lets buy beer
and go to my place!
41 F o r e i g n e r s a t t h e I O F F E I n s t i t u t e
OK, answered the agreeable Din. We dropped by a shop.
They did not have any beer! There was no way out for me.
I brought Din to the head of the line of people who had been
standing in line for two hours. And just now they were on the
point of entering the Garden of Eden Guys! An American has
come here to work with us. I am to treat him to beer. If you
would be so kind, allow us to pass!
Din beamed a happy smile. But I was about to faint. The reaction
might be unpredictable. It might be whatever you like, from
to. There was a 10-second pause, and Well, an American, we
are people, arent we? He must be treated to beer, that goes without
saying! He cant be sent to the end of the line, can he? The most
ardent of them began knocking on the closed door. The door was
opened by a huge porter, drunk as a lord. The line of people
began to rumble, the American, beerwe are human, arent
we? Din obviously enjoyed it. He kept on smiling happily. The
expression of the porters face was slowly changing from the
traditional Clear off ! Away from here!! To something absolutely
indefinite and unusual. At last, with his right hand, he opened the
door before us, and with his left hand he produced from his pocket
a fruit-drop in dirty paper with tobacco crumbs on it. Come in!
Just fancy, an American! His face flushing, which was so strange
that no words could describe it, he offered the sweetmeat to Din.
Take it
Perpendicular to the long wall of the cellar were tables for 8.
Parallel to the second long wall was a counter. Customers were
supposed to sit down and choose from the menu one of the two
sorts of beer and one of 3 snacks, which were numbered 1, 2, and
3, and wait for the waiter to come. We found the vacant seats and
I started explaining to Din what those numbers denoted. Though
in order to understand it one did not have to be a polyglot: all the
three of them looked repulsive. There were soaked peas (no. 1),
some greenish sausage (no. 2) and processed cheese (no. 3). At last
a waiter came with a gait, his jacket of an indescribable color.
Well?
Four bottles of Moscovskoye beer, please
Were out of Moscovskoye
Then Zhigulevskoye, please
Well, the snack! Which number?
Here Din suddenly stretched his arm towards the counter and
with an appreciable accent said, That one, please! I looked up.
On the counter there was an enormous dish full of crayfish. People
at the table, hearing the foreign accent ceased talking. But the
waiter perceived nothing.
We are expecting an audit! You, block-head! Its not for this
bastards that crayfish are placed there!
Thank you, I understood many things, replied Din politely.
And not only at our table, at the next 2 tables the people got
silent. Even the waiter seemed to have come to his senses.
I was awfully scared. Guys, friends! He is an American! He
came to work with us. I must treat him to beer. It should be done
properly! And again that worked.
We were not given crayfish, though, but they served us smoked
Caspian roach, salty rusks, someone even offered a soaked apple.
Din was explained how to prepare home-brew, how to filter it
through yogurt, how to take a hair of the dog that bit you. He was
taught how to catch crayfish with carrion, how to choose beer,
how to grind a saw. Even I could not understand everything. As
for Din, though he did not understand a single word, he felt that
everybody was kindhearted and was beaming happily.
We had finished our beer long ago, but it was impossible to
leave. Everyone wanted to treat us and it would have been impolite
to refuse, they would really been offended. At long last, near 11
oclock, when they were closing, we could hardly crawl out of the
cellar. Tottering we went home, twice dropping into gateways to
relieve ourselves.
In front of his house Din shook my hand, Thank you! I have
understood many things!
The Kuban Cossacks
Din, had you ever read a Russian book before you came here? Or
had seen any Russian films? Yes, I had.
What? Tolstoy? Dostoyevsky?
Yes, Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, its great literature.
Well, I see. What about films?
I have seen only the Kuban Cossacks, I saw it twice.
Dear me! What did you see in it? Its shit! And you saw it
twice!
Not only me. All my friends saw it two or three times.
Do you remember anything at all? What could you remember
there? Tomatoes? Water-melons? Havent you seen bread in
America?
What tomatoes? What water-melons? I remember nothing of
the kind.
Then what was it that could have captivated you it in that raft
of shit?
Captivated? You mean fascinated?
Well, what did you remember?
Not only me, all of us remembered one and the same scene.
And for the sake of that scene we went to see the film two or three
times.
Do you remember, the tractor-driver and the milkmaid loved
each other and wanted to get married? And they wanted to live
together. But they were from different collective farms, so they had
to ask the chiefs for permission to leave and move to the other
collective farm, and the chiefs did not let them go. Neither him, nor
her. And the young bride fell on her knees before the chief of her
collective farm. She was afraid to lose her bridegroom. I was a small
kid then and understood little. But my parents showed that to me
and said, Look, do you remember we read to you about slavery in
America, about the black slaves? Look, this is what is taking place in
Russia. A woman cannot get married because her boss does not let
her go. Look! It is happening right now! And I cried.
Oh, my God, I thought. That was the funniest scene in the
film. Everyone was laughing like mad. And no one remembers that
scene now. Neither did I, until Din reminded me of it. I remembered
tomatoes, water-melons, melons, carts with food, heaps of food. I
remembered the actor who was throwing up a huge water-melon
from palm to palm, and how that made my mouth water. Later on,
when I grew up, my people recalled how difficult it was for them
to manage to feed us in 1947, despite the fact that our family was
not considered poor. How I hated that mendacious film, shot with
pure communist cynicism in the year when people went hungry.
And we would send it around all over the world together with the
books of Marxism classics
Ears of Midas, I said aloud.
Sorry?
Well, one cannot hide an awl in a sack.
Sorry?
I explained.
Thank you, I have understood many things! replied Din
habitually.
Oh, no! Its me who has understood many things. Thank you,
Din.
Saying Good-bye in the Slavonic Way
The time came to leave. Din went to Moscow to have his papers
registered. He returned very proud, visibly excited, and with a
black eye too.
Having worked a year in Russia, Din took to plain living and
looked quite common. Even a most attentive and professional glance
could not distinguish him as a foreigner. He did not differ from
our domestic theoreticians of middle age: a worn out coat, thread-
bare trousers, old shoes, a two-day-old beard, and a three-month-
old hair-cut. By the end of the term he spoke Russian not at all
poorly.
Approaching the USA Embassy, Din without slowing down, and
without even making an attempt to produce his passport, directed
his steps to the entrance. Its quite natural that a monster appeared
from the booth and howled, Where are you going?! Instead of
answering in English or at least saying in Russian that he was
American, or at the least, emphasizing his accent, Din answered in
his very best Russian To the Embassy.
What for? For the papers. What papers could you possibly
want? For departure.
Here the monster performed at a tremendous rate several actions
at a time. He produced a whistle on a long cord and blew into it,
with another hand grasped Din by his collar, and with the other
began to twist his arm, letting the whistle hang loosely on the
cord. As for Dins resistance and his cry, Oh, you hurt me! Let
me go! the cop did not hesitate to beat him black and blue. And
did that quite professionally, too.
Responding to the whistle a car quickly appeared from round
the corner, and Din found himself in the back seat, squeezed
between the monster on his right and a man in a civilian dress to
his left. The size of the man on the left was not less that that of
the man on the right. The driver and one more man in the front
seat looked quite impressive too.
Din began to speak English. He said that he was an American
citizen, that he demands a meeting with the consul, that there had
been a mistake
But the man sitting next to the driver mumbled lazily, without
turning his head Volodya! to which Volodya twisted his hand
with such force that Din knew better than to go on speaking.
The monster reveled in describing how he understood everything
at once, how he had spotted that skunk when the latter was only
approaching the embassy, and so on.
It took them very little time at all to reach their destination. Din
even had no idea how he appeared in a well-furnished office where
a comparatively young officer was sitting behind a desk, wearing
the epaulette of police captain.
Well, Smirnov, he addressed the monster, and the latter began
telling how as soon as he saw the skunk he realized What do
you have to say for yourself, Mister? the captain addressed Din.
And Din spoke, in English. So as to choose just the right
expression. And meanwhile his eye was getting still blackerAnd
the brighter shone the Moon, the louder sang the nightingale
*
,
the more pale the face of the captain grew.
He howled at Smirnov, Go out into the corridor, scum!
And turning to Din began saying in the most tender voice how
it was an awful misunderstanding. That very morning they had
been notified of a provocation being plotted against the American
Embassy. That by no means could it justify the outrageous actions
of the sergeant who will be punished severely, that they would
immediately send for the doctor, and would inform the Embassy,
that...
The captain spoke the Kings English and by the middle of his
flaming speech the good-natured Din softened. Din said he did not
need anything, that they did not have to call for the doctor, or to
inform the consul, that he, Din, understood everything, that no
one should be punished, that he asked them only for a lift to take
him to the Embassy where he was to be present, while he was
running late
The captain was ready to kiss his feet, and he personally escorted
him through the hall to the staircase where he was received by the
gentleman who had been sitting next to the driver and who had
pronounced so emphatically Volodya! But since then the man
had quite visibly diminished in size. The features of his face acquired
some subtlety and his eyes were shining so kindly and tenderly that
it was impossible not to be charmed by him.
But the most interesting thing was, Din went on, that while
we were passing the hall, Smirnov was sitting there. He observed
that the captain was seeing me off, but initially he did not understand
anything. The captain was to my left. He opened the door for me
*
The words of a very popular Russian ballad.
to pass. At that moment I looked round and saw that, with his
right hand, he was showing Smirnov a clenched fist. And what a
menacing fist! And Smirnov, a small, unpresentable man, shrank on
the edge of his seat.
When the car stopped at the entrance to the Embassy, Din
looked at his watch. Only 20 minutes had passed since the monster
jumped out of his booth.
Well, did you say to the captain, Thank you, I have understood
many things? I asked.
No, I dont think so, Din answered somewhat at a loss, but
I have indeed understood many things.
Digression: An Article Into a Foreign Journal
As previously mentioned, we got to know Din after my friend and
I had submitted an article to a foreign journal. That was in 1968.
Unfortunately, I have quite forgotten many details which followed
that rather bold act.
The only thing I remember is that during the meeting with the
authoritative commission it was necessary to prove that the article
contained nothing new either from the theoretical or practical point
of view, or from the point of view of patent rights or from any
other point of view. Then we were addressed at the Special and
Foreign Departments. We then were given a specific paper to be
enclosed in the envelope, which was not to be sealed, and was to
be handed in at the office. Then a mysterious somebody at the
Central Post Office would take that paper, would seal the envelope
and mail the letter to the Editorial Board of some physica status
solidi, published in the German Democratic Republic which was
as innocuous as any Russian journal.
According to our list of publications, in 1968 we published 5
articles abroad and one of them was presented at an international
conference. It is not difficult to realize how we began to relish this.
The main domestic journal in our field Soviet Physics Semicon-
ductors published articles in one and a half or two years after their
submission. It took even more time to publish an article in the
Soviet Journal of Technical Physics. While the International Jour-
nal Electronics Letters, for example, published articles as little as
2 weeks after they had been accepted for publication. Besides, in
those days Xeroxes were not common at all even in the West. To
receive a reprint of the paper, it was necessary to send to the first
author a note (postcard) with the appropriate request. That also
called attention to itself and was a delicate attempt to enter into
relations. So if after a publication in a domestic journal there would
come 2 notes requesting a reprint, the result might be considered
splendid. While a publication in the Electronics Letters 10 or 15
notes would be considered quite an average result.
Reciting from memory the words of the poet, In hopes of
fame and of the best we look forward without a fear, my friend
and I kept on bringing articles to the Foreign Department, and the
Head of that department G kept signing them. But once, signing
again, G said with a special smile, Boys, why not relax?
But why? we asked without seeing the point.
Just so, G answered vaguely.
When we came again, G said with a most charming smile, Please,
leave the paper with me for a couple of days.
A few days later a Very Important Person (lets say N.N.), called
us to his office. No sooner had we entered the room than he
began shouting at us. To tell the truth, I was taken aback. As a
child I was shouted at by my aunts, by nurses in kindergarten, by
teachers at school, later on by leaders scout camps, by trainers in
the sections, by the commander and petty officers of the navy, by
the deputy directors of companies, to say nothing about policemen,
people in line to get beer, and not only beer
Once I asked my aunts and uncle, a former Air Force flyer, to
stop shouting while I was preparing for my exams. This is what he
said: We are Jewish, people of the South and therefore very hot-
blooded. As for myself, I cant help shouting But no one had
ever shouted at me at the Ioffe Institute.
As for my friend, a man much more resourceful than myself and
very quick witted, he also stood, his mouth open. N.N. went on
yelling. He was outraged that two junior researchers (he pronounced
those words the way women pronounce the word lice) had
published 40% of all the papers, published abroad by all researchers
of the Department of General Physics and Astronomy of the
Academy of Sciences
*
. He shouted that he, N.N., was not going to
endure this any longer, and wondered what in general we thought
about ourselves.
We tried to answer most timidly, We do it because out of
consideration of prestige and priority! But N.N. announced in a
thunderous voice that he was sure to find out to whose mill we
were bringing grist and were going to do it in the future. With an
imperious gesture he sent us off.
We left absolutely humiliated and began waiting. Two days later
I went to my friends place to write an article. Then we went to
the Institute and entered the main building On the wall we saw
an obituary with a portrait of N.N. and the usual official condolence.
We looked at each other without saying a word. Then my friend,
a very delicate, soft and well brought up man, said sternly, N.N.,
Professor, Doctor of Sciences, left us without having made clearwhy
two researchers had published their articles in Electronics Letters.
We never again referred to it.
The next year we had only one paper published abroad.
A Grad-student from Munich
Professor Yanai came to the Ioffe Institute from Tokyo for 4 days.
My friend and I were told to entertain him. Sorry to say it was
not because we enjoyed our administrations special confidence, it
was because Professor Yanai was studying the effect which no one
*
The number of employees in the Department of General Physics and Astronomy of
the Academy of Sciences is several thousand people.
else at the Ioffe Institute, except us, had anything to do with. So
Professor Yanai expressed a desire to meet us.
The Academy gave us a car with a silent driver and we took the
Professor sightseeing. We reached the famous embankments, passed
by the ancient building of the Military Medical Academy, admired
the cruiser Aurora, once menacing, stopped before the Manchurian
sphinxes, and before Peters house, rendering a view across the
Neva river over the best fence in the world, etc., etc. Making the
best of my pidgin English I tried to quote Pushkin, mentioning
the Neva dressed in granite
Suddenly the car braked and the driver pronounced quietly but
very impressively, Tell him that it was from here that the cruiser
Aurora fired its famous salvo at the Winter Palace, which an-
nounced the beginning of the Great Socialist October revolution.
That being quite unexpected, I lost all my pidgin English and fell
silent.
Whats the matter Professor Yanai asked, Whats wrong?
Stammering and halting, I said that the gentleman asked me to tell
him that here before us was the battleship Aurora which I
tried as hard as I could to explain to Professor Yanai what happened
there in 1917. Suddenly, the professor interrupted me and uttered
a phrase whose sense I did not grasp, I understand everything. I
was a grad-student in Munich in 1944. We went on, and for some
time the angel of silence hovered over the car
The next day from morning till night we talked about scientific
topics and then Professor Yanai made a suggestion which, at the
first glance, seemed quite reasonable. He suggested that after dinner
we should go to the Hermitage and that the discussion should be
continued in the evening in his room. We hesitated, for we imagined
quite vividly how we would have to explain our behavior to a
Certain Department, and at the same time we could not find a
plausible excuse to reject his proposal .. There was an awkward
pause, interrupted by Yanai saying, I understand everything. I was
a grad-student in Munich in 1944.
When we got to know him better, the middle-aged Japanese
professor proved to be a most fascinating man with a remarkable
sense of humor, always ready to joke and to laugh at other jokes. On
the third day while we walked slowly along the beautiful park of
the Polytechnic Institute towards the Ioffe, I asked, Professor Yanai,
are you a strict teacher? Do you often give your students Ds?
Oh, no, the professor answered with an obvious regret, I
never give a D. And students abuse my kindness. And you?
Yanai addressed my friend. Are you a strict examiner?
Oh, yes, my friend answered ardently and proudly. I want
my students to know my course well!
And what do you do if your students answer poorly?
I knock them down and trample on them, my friend answered
without a shade of a smile.
I understand everything, I was a grad-student in Munich
Yanai began habitually, but cut short, seeing the amicable face of
his interlocutor, and his cozy and pleasant look, emitting no menace
whatsoever.
And the three of us, the 70-year-old Japanese professor and two
Russian junior researchers burst out laughing the way one seldom
laughs even with ones own best friend.
Profane Faith
According to the routine, a German was met in the airport with a
piece of cardboard on which his name had been printed in capitals.
The German appeared before those who met him with a backpack
on his shoulders, a suitcase in his left hand and a book in his right.
Shaking hands, he trustfully showed his book to everyone and
pronounced very religiously My Bible. That was the name he
gave to the English edition of book, published by two brilliant
theoreticians of the Ioffe.
I am happy to meet the people who work closely with such
wonderful physicists, announced the enthusiast. Who had worked,
somebody corrected him
*
. Never mind! he exclaimed, this book
is my Bible. And your Institute is my Mecca. The best experi-
mentalists and theoreticians of the world are working here.
Though people had their own varying points of view on the
matter, no one objected.
In the morning, someone came to the hotel to take this believer
to the Institute. On the dressing table close to his bed there lay the
book. I read this great book every day, the German cooed, and
every time I keep on finding some new, deep thoughts.
They came to the Institute, had coffee and began, as usually,
talking shop. They began by discussing an experiment, performed
at the Ioffe, which somehow contradicted results obtained at the
laboratory of the guest.
A couple of hours later the guest began looking around with
natural anxiety, and at last asked bluntly where the toilet was.
Volunteers were found to keep him company, and a group of them
moved to the end of the corridor. At the approach to the temple
the German began to display signs of nervousness. When the door
to the fore-room opened and a usual view appeared before the eyes
of the pilgrim a dilapidated wardrobe, a sack of cement in the
corner, some broken devices and taps, etc., and a staunch odor
became truly fool, the guest grew pale and retreated. His companions
did not notice anything and began getting ready for the process
anticipated by them. They opened the door to the sacred place
itself The German rushed out. Our people believing that a free
man in a free country might do whatever he liked, did what they
wanted, and returned to the room where the discussion was to be
continued.
But there was no continuation of the discussion. The guest
announced in a dry voice that he no longer believed a single
experiment held at the Ioffe... He proposed a certain theoretical
problem for discussion.
*
Both of them had emigrated.
They began discussing a theory. An hour later, however, nature
called, and the admirer of Ioffe apologized and excused himself.
On coming back, his face petrified, the German long washed his
hands (fortunately, there was a sink in the room), but when with
all my heart someone offered him a towel, he simply cast a look at
the cotton towel, which once had been white, and eschewed it for
drying his hands by waving them quite elegantly.
Tell me please, the guest asked quite unexpectedly, where
exactly did the authors of the Book work?
Why, just here, on this very floor, companions answered quite
innocently.
Does it mean that they visited? He fell silent without finishing
the sentence.
The next day when they came to take the German to the Institute,
there was an ordinary Bible in the English language on his
nightstand.
Digression: The Smell of Science
The crucial events of the last decade of the 20th century: the end
of the cold war; the fall of the Berlin wall; the liberal and economic
reforms in Russia had important consequences for the smell of
Russian science. It began to acquire an unexpected nuance gaining
strength with each year. In accordance with the key thesis of mar-
keting Everyone for himself, and only God for everyone, the
toilets at the Ioffe were divided into two categories: the first being
elite and the second for people.
Those for the elite were, quite naturally, located in the build-
ing where the management and the administration sat. Those for
the people elsewhere. Those who hear the word elite, would
imagine Heavenly Gardens with flowers, toilet paper, deodorants
and regular cleaning, i.e. with the attributes of an ordinary Ameri-
can rest-room, are certainly mistaken. A Dutch or even German
housewife may faint while approaching an elite establishment. In
this context it just means that the broken lavatory pans are, from
time to time, replaced by new ones, that once a week the floor
is washed. As for the peoples toilet, everyone who has visited a
lavatory at a railway station in Central Asia, jumping from stone to
stone to reach the lavatory pan, knows everything about them.
The elite toilets knew their good times. When the Ioffe was
visited by the President of South Korea (later convicted of bribery),
blue urinals and blue lavatory pans were installed there. On the eve
of its 80th anniversary, when the Ioffe Institute was getting ready
to meet distinguished guests and half a year before the jubilee,
Turkish builders were invited to decorate the elite toilet with
gold and bronze. After which the toilet was locked for half a year
and the ribbon was cut with the last stroke of the clock. The
peoples toilet did not know any better times and, in the long run,
even Russians used to everything began to grumble about it. First,
as usual, they began to send petitions to the authorities. The latter
answered, as usual, As soon as then immediately One dare-
devil, after three years of platonic promises, gave a howl by the
Institute e-mail, Now when?!! The adequate answer was received
immediately Upon receiving from the Academy of Sciences the
Special Financial Support for just THIS goal. Then even the most
slow-witted began to see things clearly, and recovering from their
ridiculous dreams, turned to the New Testament: Everyone for
himself
The heads of the rich laboratories began repairing the toilets
at their own expenses and locked them from others. (The employees
of their laboratories were given the keys, after they had signed for
them, or else were given the code to the lock installed there.) It
was natural that other people, trying to realize their inalienable
rights, began breaking the locks and defecating in the privatized
lavatories with a special frenzy. To make a long story short, the
emerging history of toilets at the Ioffe reproduced a microcosm of
new social relations en masse.
It would be, though, unjust to lay all blame on the new times.
In the building next to the Ioffe, the Scientific Research Institute
of Direct Current, in the year 1970 or so, long before perestroyka
and at the height of the period of the so called ripe stagnation
the following true story took place. A revered guest from Great
Britain, a Minister of Her Majesty, was expected. It was necessary
to come to an agreement about a lot of important problems and
the meeting was to last for several hours. Then the question arose,
would the revered guest like? Most probably he would. It
goes without saying that the lavatory on the floor where the
Directors office was repaired by the first class a month prior to the
meeting and locked. However, what was to be done on the day of
the visit? God only knew when the minister would need it. Should
the lavatory be opened in the morning it might, by the sacramental
moment, become defecated to such an extent that no touch-up
repair would help. And should it be kept locked, to unlock it in
the presence of the revered guest, what would the noble Britain
think about? But there is no such problem which Russian genius
cannot cope with. From early in morning, the Leading Engineer
was placed there with strict orders not to let ANYONE in and
watch the door to the Directors office. As soon as that door
opened, he was to rush to the lavatory pan pretending he just
dropped in, as if it werent out of the ordinary. The leading engineer
fully justified the trust. From 10 a.m. till half past one when the
door opened again not a single mouse has passed by the guard. He
steadily rejected all entreaties of those passing by, including even
his closest friends, to let them in. At last the door flung open and
the Minister, together with the Director and accompanied by the
Principal Scientists and the translator, moved towards the staircase.
Their way went past the toilet. The crucial hour had come! The
leading engineer darted to the snow-white virgin urinal and began
to play conscientiously the role ascribed to him. Two and a half
hours of expectation and his natural excitement did their job: he
acted in the most natural way
But oh! The steps were retreating, they went past the door to
the stair-case. He did not even deign to, beast!!
That part of the story was told to me by a man who directly
participated in the event. I fully believe the veracity of his words.
The second part of the story was told by the same person, though
he did not witness it himself. The Minister, accompanied by
management, went to the training ground where he examined the
emergency switch for 1500 kV, a construction 30 meters high,
which according to the rules of technical safety was at a distance of
500 meters from the road. That way the revered guest and his
escort went by foot across the field. After the switch had been
examined, the Minister addressed those escorting him (there were
only men there) and said, Gentlemen! Then he unzipped his
trousers and broke the law upon the frame. The gentlemen shared
in the act quite enthusiastically.
Sometimes something happens and people say, See, this is
new! But it had been already of old time, which was before us.
(Ecclesiastics 1.10)
Checks on the Roads
Sometimes it seems to me that Karl Bergman had come to Russia
from Stockholm to expose my mystification. Half a year before his
arrival, in December of 1989, I visited the Swedish Royal Institute
of Microelectronics and as I am able to understand it now, I
embarrassed the spirit of the Vikings.
First, the Swedes invited me for one day and I stayed for a
whole week. The Stockholm/Leningrad flight was weekly, on Friday.
It left Leningrad early in the morning, and at 4 p.m. or so flew
back. From the point of view of the Swedes it seemed quite logical.
I arrive in the morning, and they took me from the airport to the
Institute. I made my presentation, they paid my fare, paid me a
lecture fee ($200 which at that time according to the prices of the
black market was equal to my salary of 5 months) and they saw
me off to the airport.
But my own attitude was also understandable. In those days, it
took me a month of hard work to prepare a 90-minute presentation
in English. I had NEVER before been abroad and like 99% of
ordinary Soviet people was sure I would never again be there. To
come to Stockholm for just one day?! To pass through the city, to
take the trouble to make that report and fly back?!!! You wont
have it!!! I wanted to wander about the city, to visit museums, to
see the life which I had read so much about and which I had never
seen and never would again see. Gallium-arsenide thyristors? Devil
takes them; together with the Swedes! As for the money, with
Gods Will Id earn it in summer, during my vacation.
I sent a fax stating I was ready to make two presentations instead
of one, but I would not come for just one day. With a polite
surprise the Vikings agreed.
Secondly, I arrived there wearing a janitors fur-coat and a fur
hat. In Leningrad as well as in Stockholm the temperature was
minus 10 degrees C and was expected to be much lower. Wasnt it
logical? The engineer who met me was very well brought up, but
he could not quite conceal his astonishment. I understood him
better three days later when it became clear to me that in a city
with a million people only two of them were wearing fur myself
and quite a crazy English woman who wore a long fox coat down
to her ankles. Meeting me she looked at me with an obvious
approval and even (it seemed to me) with some kind of desire,
which made my inferiority complex run unusually high.
Thirdly, when asked what kind of equipment I would like to
have: an overhead, a cassette slider, a video-camera or a player? etc.
I answered with modest dignity, a blackboard and chalk. I was
given a blackboard and chalk. After a seminar which lasted two
hours and after dinner I was taken to a large hall where there was
a blackboard on which they write with markers. Answering one of
the questions, I uncapped the marker and wrote the wanted
equation. The Swedes began whispering About three days later,
when we began to play tricks on each other and to tell anecdotes,
one of the Swedes asked me why I had mystified them, demanding
a blackboard and chalk. We saw that you could write very well
with a marker as well!
???
Do you know, you SOB, that we have searched the whole
Institute from cellar to attic trying to find a blackboard for you.
There was none. So we had to search for it all over the town!
Fourth, it became clear that I had no driving license, that I
could not drive a car, and that I did without a car in Leningrad.
Fifth, sixth Apparently my Sweden colleagues had an impression
that just the other day I got out of a den, put on a fur-coat and
flew to Stockholm to tell them about the most high-voltage gallium-
arsenide devices in the world and about the effects which we
observed by means of those devices. No partial questioning in
Stockholm helped them to break me up and Karl came to Leningrad
to expose us.
On the very first day it became clear that he did know something
about Leningrad and about the Ioffe. He NEVER visited the
institute lavatories and made no attempts to do so. At 10 a.m., we
used to meet him at the Metro and at 5 p.m., we would take him
to that very station for him to go to the hotel. And not a single
time It goes without saying that we tried to encourage him by
example. We would begin talking on that topic. We asked him
point blank, because we were sorry for the man. All was in vain.
The man remained polite but adamant. On the third day we gave
him the honorary name of BUB (Big Urinary Bladder) which should
not be confused with BUP the British United Press. And we left
him alone.
Whatever we showed to Karl, he would adopt a partial attitude
to it and would check it up most thoroughly. We told him that the
wafer was 300 micrometers thick and measured it before his eyes.
Karl would get out a special case from his bag, from that case he
would get a small box, from the box a packet and from that
packet a plate. And he made a control measuring, using our
setup. We measured some capacitance before his eyes. From another
box he would take a device whose capacitance had apparently been
measured in Sweden, and he checked it up by our device. We
showed him that the voltage was 600 V, he would produce a
portable Ampere-Voltmeter from his bag and the voltage was
measured by a Swedish device. Some days later Karl thawed. He
gave a seminar (in Russian) and began to study the technological
equipment where that very gallium arsenide had been grown.
I watched a similar process at their Institute. The cleaning-
room of 100 class, i.e. it is such a room where there are not more
than 100 specks of dust per one cubic meter of air. (For the sake of
comparison it should be noted that in the forest there are 10,000
such specks of dust per cubic meter. In the air in town, there are
1,000,000 specks of dust per cubic meter. At the Ioffe, where in
1989, the floor was washed once a month there must have been
about 5,000,000 specks of dust per cubic meter.) There is a chamber
before the cleaning room where all the visitors were to change, to
put on nylon overalls, a cap, a mask, slippers, etc
I did my best to prepare Karl for what he was to see. I told him
that the setups were home-made, that the connection points were
home-made, just like a schoolboy from Eton who wrote a compo-
sition About a Poor Man. His butler was poor, his gardener was
poor, both his drivers were also poor I understood, however,
that it was beyond me to mollify the shock he was to experience.
So I faint-heartedly passed him over to a young technician who
had never been abroad and had no complexes whatsoever. I can
judge about how shocked Karl was only by the fact that on return-
ing he asked to take him to the toilet and when he came back he
made no comments. He washed his hands, sat down to table and
for the next half an hour was writing something in his notebook.
Then he addressed me, Mike, can I take a picture of your techno-
logical setup?
I am ashamed to admit it, but all that stuff which had been
instilled into my mind since my childhood rose inside me for a
moment... Scenes of photo-correspondents, darting about with their
cameras near the kitchen midden
The vision glimpsed and disappeared, leaving a bitter sickening
taste in my mouth.
Karl, the setup is not mine, but of course I can ask for the
technologists permission. But tell me please, why do you want to
photograph all that trash?
Ill return to Stockholm and Ill invite all the laboratories. Ill
show the snaps to the guys. Ill say, See by means of what people
in St. Petersburg produce diodes whose blocking voltage is 600
Volts. You have the best modern setup in the world at your dis-
posal, which was bought for a million and a half dollars. Why is its
voltage only 150?
Well, I see. Ill speak to Yura
Karl kept silent for some time. Mike, can you explain to me
why using the setup which in the West they would be ashamed
even to throw away as garbage, you manage to obtain such results?
I cannot give you an exact answer, Im afraid, no one can. But
if you like, I may just suggest a few ideas.
Do, please!
Firstly, the technologist who is working at it assembled it himself,
every last screw. And while the process is going on he senses it with
his skin. Just like a mother does not need to measure the temperature
of her child to learn if he is ill, the technologist neednt look at the
devices, he just KNOWS what is going on inside.
Secondly, it is difficult to conduct the process, and he will think
over the previous results for a week or a month before he comes to
a decision what he is to do next. Third, our Institute is a place
where you can get a benevolent answer to practically any question
in solid state.
And, finally, every young guy you have been speaking to has
been to a SCIENTIFIC SCHOOL.
What do you mean?
He has been working at the Ioffe since his third year in college.
He has been speaking to clever and benevolent people for 5 years.
And for 5 years he has been taught NOT TO DO FOOLISH
THINGS and THINK what he is doing.
Shall I come to work here for a year?
Do you have a family?
Yes, I do.
Who provides for your family?
Me, certainly.
Then dont come!

RUSSIAN ABROAD
Mr. Ulyanov in Finland
The junior researcher S, a Jew from Baku, a sanguine person and
an ardent optimist was invited to the Finnish University in the
town of Turku to work there for two months. S reacted to it with
great responsibility; he bought a reference book Cities sworn
brothers of Leningrad and learned by heart the chapter about the
town of Turku. Besides scientific curiosity he was partly guided also
by the instinct of self-preservation. It was as far back as the times
when the virtue of any person invited was checked by the special
Ideological Commission of the Party Committee. The chairman
of that commission, a severe communist and unbending patriot
(who later on emigrated to Israel), was known for his strictness and
desire to delve into every detail.
Studying the reference book, S learned, in particular that Leningrad
has presented Turku with a statue of Lenin, and that the statue was
erected by the thankful citizens at the central square of the city.
Having safely passed the examination of the Ideological Com-
mission of the District Committee of the Communist Party of
the Soviet Union, and of another, still more serious institution
the KGB S arrived in Turku and got down to work. When he
felt at home, he only then started sightseeing. One evening he
happened to come to the central square of the city and did not see
there the acclaimed statue of Lenin. S was surprised. On the next
day he came to the square in the day-time and did find the present
of his motherland. The statue was bashfully hidden somewhere on
the side in the bushes.
The work in Turku went on quite well, but the life of S was
somehow overshadowed by gloomy restraint of his host, the Finnish
professor.
I have always thought, S said to me later, that I can make
even a mummy speak, word after word, well you know me!
(I did indeed know him.)
63
SRC-10russians abroad.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 63
And that time, it was in vain! I tried to tell him anecdotes,
stories, did my best. Nothing helped! At the farewell party, when I
had drunk a lot, I said to that Kukhtonnen, Professor Kukhtonnen!
We sent you a statue of Lenin as a present. And you keep that
statue in the bushes, out of the way. It is no good, is it? And what
do you think?? That professor answered me without a smile:
But Mr. S, as far as I know, Mr. Ulyanov
*
visited Finland
illegally.
Population of Rumania
In those days when they examined the peoples virtue, a friend of
mine received an invitation to an International Conference which
was, for some reason, to be held in Rumania.
Being a sensible man and besides being Jewish, he had never
before tempted Providence and had never applied to the authorities
for the permission to go abroad anywhere. But that time he was
seduced by the Devil.
First, Rumania. What kind of a country is Rumania? In fact it is
our province.
Secondly, he was proposed to make an invited presentation of
the work for which he had been recently given a prestigious scientific
award.
To make a long story short, he applied
Deep in thought, I walked to the library passing by the manage-
ment office. Suddenly someone grasped my shoulder without cer-
emony. My friend, who was usually calm, asked me in a heated
whisper and without letting go of my shoulder, Tell me please!
Are there any other people in Rumania besides Chaushesku?
Well, I think so. It seems to me there is Manesku.
What is he?
*
Ulyanov is Lenins real family name.
65 R u s s i a n s A b r o a d
The devil only knows. It seems to me he is Chairman of the
Council of Ministers
My friend shook my hand passionately, Thank you! You have
rescued me! I am to answer at the Ideological Commission now
An hour later, I dropped in to ask him how things went. My
friend was alone in the room, his face as red as a lobster. He
smoked, monotonously letting off a stream of monstrous oaths, the
like of which I had not heard since my time in the navy on the
Baltic Fleet.
You dont have to tell me anything. The result is written on
your face.
The result!!! Whatresult? It has
nothing to do with it.!! The result was clear
to me beforehand. I wish you could have seen the procedure!!!
Why, did they make French love to you? !!!!
I came into the office. The chairman in a tender voice said,
Take a seat, please. He opened my file and informed all the
scum
*
, Our respected N.N. has been invited to make a plenary
talk of his work at quite a prestigious International Conference. Its
a great honor for our Institute so let us be very kind to him and
not ask any difficult questions. He kept silent for some moments
and asked, Will you tell us how much oil was extracted by the
Rumanian Democratic Republic last year?
I, naturally, got up from my chair and said that I had not
prepared well enough, and I am sorry for the time I had taken
from the Commission. And I walked to the door. Then that swine
*
the chairman said, No, no, N.N. Why should you lose heart?! Sit
down, please. We will find a more simple question for you.
And here, I cannot forgive myself. I ought to have left them and
put an end to it. But no! I returned like an idiot and sat down.
Now, well ask N.N. quite a simple little question. Will you
name, please, all the members of the Politburo of the Rumanian
Labor party!
*
In original version it is much stronger.
Without saying................. a bad word, I got up again and silently
move to the door. Then, you wont believe it, but one of the
women literally hangs herself on my shoulder and howls, Tell us,
please, who headed the work of the party in 1941?
Rumania!..!!! Shit! Never again will I ..!
But human beings are weak, and the devil is strong. A year later
my friend visited Poland.
I am Not a Boy for Them
How to protect a town from plague is common knowledge. An
innocent maid wearing a wreath of wild flowers must go round its
walls three times. Nevertheless, plague mowed down medieval towns.
There is a letter addressed to the Pope written by a French bishop.
The bishop complained that in the diocese entrusted to him he was
unable to find an innocent girl older than 11. Bishop asked whether
he could consider such a child as really innocent
Such difficulties arose even in those cases when the require-
ments of Virtue were formulated unambiguously. It goes without
saying that when the system of checking Virtue was multi-staged
(the Party Organizer of the Laboratory, the Party Committee of
the Institute, the well known Special Department of the Institute,
the Ideological Commission of the Institute, the District Commit-
tee of the Communistic Party, the KGB) and when the require-
ments of Virtue were vague and inspired, God knows by whom,
the difficulties increased many times. As a result, the greater part of
scientists proved to be in the category of those not allowed to leave
the country. In some branches of science the number of scientists
allowed to go abroad could be counted on the fingers of one
hand.
One of the researchers of Institute P happily combined a good
scientific qualification with the exceptionally good data of his
questionnaire: he was Russian, he was a Party member, was born in
the very Russian town of Ryazan. He was the son of a worker and
a peasant woman. He was the trade-organizer of the laboratory.
Before he entered the Institute he had been working for 3 years as
a turner. He had two young children So it was clear that whenever
there was an opportunity to send anyone abroad, he was chosen.
As a result a demon of arrogance gripped him.
Once he was offered to go to a conference in Australia. (As far
as I remember it was to Adelaide). Ive been to Australia three
times. And Ive been to Adelaide, too. I wont go there. There
is no progress in my research because of these trips, P would
capriciously put on airs.
The man persuading him would be willing to send him to the
devil, or still better, to write a note disqualifying him from ever
being sent abroad again. He would have been glad to go to Adelaide
himself or to send there one of HIS own colleagues. As for HIS
own colleagues, there were no problems with them, but these bloody
scientists!!! There were none who combined both qualities: to be a
qualified specialist and to be allowed to go abroad. Reluctantly, the
man went on persuading P.
You are to fly via Africa. There is a two-day stop there.
I see, there is a stop, in Tangier, isnt there? Ive seen enough
of it. Cant bear to see it again.
Gritting his teeth, the man who was persuading him went on,
And you will return via New Zealand! You have not been there,
have you? And there is a stop there too.
New Zealand? This is interesting! Is there really to be a stop
there?
Have I ever deceived you?
OK, then its settled, Ill go there.
On the way there everything was OK. And the presentation
went smoothly
A day before the departure the members of the delegation were
gathered and were told that the route back had been changed.
Some misunderstanding about the pay for the flight via New
Zealand So, comrades, we are to return via Africa.
And then P exploded, Tell them in Moscow that I am not a
boy to return via Africa!
Analginum and the Attendant Commodities
In many families they still keep ration cards from 1991: for sugar,
for oil, for vodka, for sausage
In Autumn of 1991, there was hardly any medicine at all in
the drug stores. At any rate, a friend of mine who received an
invitation to give a lecture in Norway in November of that year
was given, by his wife, a strict order to bring analginum
*
for their
daughter (the girl having an allergy to aspirin
*
) and validolum
*
for
his mother-in-law. Besides, he cherished a dream of his own....
This is what he told me on his arrival.
I dont place too much hope on my English even among my
semiconductor colleagues. So I took from my mother-in-laws stores
plates with the names Analginum and Validolum printed in big
Latin letters. What could be better?
In Oslo, I was at a drug store. A young girl sat behind the
counter. I begin by saying that I do not speak Norwegian, that I am
from Russia and that I want to buy Analginum and Validolum.
She answered me in good English that she did not understand.
Then, proud of my prudence, I produce the card Analginum and
push it under her nose. The girl took the card, turned it in her
hands, blushed and went somewhere. She returned in a minute with
a reference book as thick as my chest. She perused it, in my pres-
ence. We dont have this medicine. It is not even mentioned in the
reference book. What is it for? I told her it is for headaches. And
very joyfully, willing to help, she informed me that I should take
Bayer aspirin.
There were people behind me. It was hot in the drug store. I
was dressed very warm. I was not at all enjoying this. And I felt
streams of sweat running down my spine.
*
Very popular medicine in Russia.
I still controlled myself and told the girl that I didnt want
Bayer aspirin, and hold out the card Validolum. Again everything
was repeated in the same order. And she asked me again What is
it for? I said For ones heart. And she answers in a very strict
tone that first, such a medicine does not exist, it is not even
mentioned in the reference book, and, secondly, all the drugs of
that type are sold only by doctors prescription.
I was dripping with sweat. I took my cards Analginum and
Validolum and asked to give me 20 preservatives. I pronounced
preservatives which I looked up in the Russian-English dictionary.
I was holding my tongue back as best as I could. I maliciously
wished I had not taken a specimen with me. And what do you
think? That bitch asked me: What is it for? I nearly burst out:
Against children! For men!!!
She stared at me fixedly for some time, thinking it over (my
knees trembling, darkness before my eyes). Suddenly with frank joy,
loudly in her clear and girlish voice, The gentleman wants a
condom! Of course, weve got them. A big choice!!!
She came out of her booth and took me to the stand, all the
customers, mostly women, staring. She came up to the stand, pointed
at it with her hand, evidently taking me for an idiot, and, thank
God, left. At that stand there were one hundred different types of
condoms: German, French, British, of different color, with rings
and mustaches. I was standing there, my legs shaking, and I imagined
what awaited me in St. Petersburg if I came back without analginum
or validolum but with condoms, especially those with mustaches
Well, I asked with interest, Did you buy them?
Yes, I did. I chose the cheapest and bought them.
The Gate
In early 90s, the birds that had left their nests at the Ioffe and had
flown away to foreign countries began returning for a week or two
to their native land. As a rule, they would just peep into the native
nest, looking with a mixture of squeamishness and compassion,
would utter something disapprovingly and would fly away to those
distant lands which had become their new home.
However, the spirit of Russian science was alive in almost each
of them; all of them, or almost all of them, felt it their duty to give
a talk about their work at a seminar.
Sometimes it happened that the speaker had, to some extent,
forgotten the Russian terms. Sometimes it appeared that he had
changed his subject-matter and knew his terms only in English.
Some of them felt embarrassed, other laughed together with the
audience at the necessity for translation into their native tongue
One of the birds was reporting on a new device, which, in the
speakers opinion, was to eclipse all other devices and at last bring
happiness to worn out humanity. A detail which is, in English,
called a gate constituted an important element of that device.
The Russian equivalents of that word are, depending on the context,
either zatvor, or vykhod, or else vorota etc In this case it
was to be translated as zatvor.
When for the first time the speaker stumbled at that word and
asked, Whats the Russian for it? the chairman of the seminar
prompted the word. A minute later the scene was repeated. The
speaker snapped his fingers and at once several voices from the first
row readily helped him. A minute later its repetition made the
audience laugh and disorderly prompts were heard from everywhere.
At last, just a few seconds later, the speaker stumbled again at the
same term. Then, from somewhere in the middle of the hall, a
thick bass articulated, distinctly and unhurriedly, zatvor, you, bum.
And a miracle occurred. The speaker went on reporting quite
smoothly without any more difficulties whatsoever. The magic word
now flying off quite easily from his lips. In tandem with this, he
suddenly remembered all other Russian terms quite distinctly. And
concentrating their attention on the principle of the device opera-
tion, the listeners were able to appreciate the elegance and beauty
of the idea.
The Texas Marquees
At about this time a friend of mine told me the trail the following
story.
Im running from building A to the main building,
and Im running very fast. Its 15 F. and Im wearing a very
light jacket, quite flimsy. At the entrance a guy is standing
wearing a beautiful sheep-skin coat. His face seems familiar
to me, but while running I cant recall who he is. Of course
I shout to him Hi, how are you doing? and run on
without stopping. But nothing of the sort. The guy stops
me, greets me and asks me with peculiar intonation, Well,
think it over yourself, how can I be doing? And that tone
of his is not pitiful, like ours, but just the opposite, half-
mocking, half-protective. And so self-satisfied, that out of
malice I immediately recognized him, and remembered
everything about him. The way he left for the USA, and
where he was working. And his papers in the Physical Review.
And how rumors had it that not everything was OK with
his wife. All those things flashed before my eyes and my
malice did not decrease, on the contrary, it gripped me
altogether.
And feeling that I couldnt help it, and suffering from
my own meanness, I said to him, Why, Robert, how can I
know how things are with you. Though, maybe Congress
has adopted a law which abolishes the cancer of rectum in
the USA. Or which forbids the physicists daughters form
injecting drugs. Or which obliges their wives to be faithful
as long as they live. We fail here to keep an eye on all the
decrees of your Congress!
And mouthing all that muck, my anger, naturally vanished
and I felt only shame. Robert looked at me, his mouth
open; naturally, he did not expect anything of the kind from
me. To tell the truth, neither did I. Then we said to each
other simultaneously, Excuse me for goodness sake! I dont
know what has come over me, and he, Excuse me for
goodness sake. I said foolish things. I am sorry.
Then we had a very friendly talk. And speaking to him I
remembered my first journey abroad in 1989, to the USA,
to Texas. In those days they could not help marveling at us.
All the old emigrants vying against one another invited me
to visit them. Once I was invited to supper by a former
Leningrad guy who left in 1972. I think he was a very
gifted mechanic and an excellent organizer. Two years after
his arrival he organized a firm and soon after became rich.
In 1989, he had about 200 employees working at his research
laboratory and at the plant.
We were having dinner in the drawing room. His wife
and daughter were at the table together with us. And then
the two of us went to his study, decorated with some peculiar
wood. I savored a wine-glass of brandy, while he knocked
back in the best Russian tradition, became tipsy, and began
complaining that his wife was shit, that she slept around
with all his friends, and even with a plumber who had come
to repair the pipes when he was not in. His daughter is
ashamed of his Russian accent and he didnt know any of
her friends. She was tender to him only when she needs
money.
Though, he smiled bitterly, she often needs money.
I get up at half past six and go running. Then I go to my
office. At seven I return. We have dinner and then I go to
my studio to work. i.e. I drink until I am quite drunk.
Still worse is it if we go out. If we call on Americans, I
dont understand half the conversation. And if I do
understand, that makes me sick: taxes, car, weather. If we
call on those from Russia, they vie in persuading each other
how clever they were to have left Russia, and what fortitude
they had displayed to make their way. And year after year its
the same
In the car when he was taking me home I reminded him
of the last lines of Pushkins famous poem Aleco with an
adaptation to the local conditions:
Theres no peace among you either,
Oh you, Texass obese sons.
Between your spacious marquees
An agonizing dream still comes.
And your nomadic way of life
Is not a rescue from misfortune.
The fatal passions all around,
And no one can escape his fortune
We embraced, Robert and I, and I ran on, it was awfully
freezing.

LITTLE SECRETS OF THEORETICIANS
Admonition to the Experimentalist
A venerable theoretician exhorts a young experimentalist, the son
of his old friend:
Suppose you obtain a result and you dont know how to use it.
You certainly ask the advice of clever people, and they send you to
a theoretician. As you can guess, for whatever reason, the chance
to meet a clever, competent and gifted theoretician who might get
interested in your problem is not bigger than of coming across an
industrious, quiet, sober plumber who will repair your pipe at the
time convenient for you and will not charge you too much.
Therefore, first, be alert!
Secondly, when you speak about your experiment, look into the
adversarys eyes. If his gaze is clear, and he is not averting his eyes,
asking questions which you are able to answer:
To what accuracy was the temperature maintained? Or, What
is the spectral resolution of the spectrophotometer? in a word,
something sensible, the prognosis is favorable. If he adds that now
he is too busy but that in two weeks or so he will find time to
think about it this is wonderful. And if two weeks later he calls you
up himself and suggests a meeting then wash his feet, anoint him
with fragrances and make him take a seat of honor in your home.
If, when you telling him about your work, he does not look
into your eyes and think about something else, things are bad.
But not hopeless. A couple of days later try it again.
Butif no sooner you open your month, than he, without
seeing the graph to its end, yells, But thats something like
superconductivity. Or, in general, yells something, then finish your
sentence, thank him for his help with your work and run away
from him as fast as you can, as if from plague. Do not attend his
seminars, do not read his publications, and if when meeting you in
the corridor, he asks you how things are with that interesting work
75
SRC-11little secrets.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 75
which you have spoken to him about, then tell him that nothing
has come of it.
Admonition to the Theorist
A young theoretician complained to a venerable theoretician that
experimentalists had overcome him. You see, all of them are very
nice people. They do interesting work, and their results are quite
impressive. But, I cant do everything at once. I dont want to do
hackwork, and every problem takes time and needs special reading
Yes, its not simple. But it can be helped. Next time, when
someone comes up to you, listen to him without interrupting and
without asking any questions. Dont interrupt him even if he is
mumbling an entire hour. After which you say, You know its very
interesting, but I dont understand anything about it.
Thank you, Ive tried that! But I have a dozen publications in
this field, and the experimentalist citing them, refers to them and
says to me. You have many publications, devoted to it!
Thats right! And then you answer: Yes, but all of them are
wrong.
The Optimal Conditions for the Work
Speaking at a banquet in honoring one of the largest American
companies, whose anniversary was being celebrated, the head of
that gigantic concerns research laboratories said that despite having
worked in his office for a quarter of a century he still cannot say
what work conditions are optimal for theoreticians.
I am of the impression, he said, that if we hire two groups
of theoreticians of approximately the same qualification, place one
of them in a wet cellar with artificial lightning and give other
group members a spacious room with air conditioning and the best
calculating machines (this was before the computers were in general
use), to supply everyone of the second group with a trained servant
77 L i t t l e S e c r e t s o f T h e o r e t i c i a n s
and a car, to let them have, without restriction, any books they like
etc, it is absolutely impossible to forecast which of the groups
will have better results
Indeed, one of the biggest and most efficient theoretical groups
of the Ioffe occupied a tiny room until 1972. It contained a desk
with a telephone, a couple of chairs and a school blackboard. On
the so called office days (Monday and Thursday) there was not
room to hang a hat. All hell was let loose, everyone would speak at
once. It was out of the question to work under such conditions.
One of the most respected researchers of the group pinned a
note up on the wall, written in calligraphic handwriting, addressing
his colleagues with this rhetorical question :
What the hell am I doing here? It helped, but not for long.
On those ill-fated days these theoreticians would walk the corridors
in small groups, crowd the places where they could smoke, and
occupied the sofas near the library, lying there in unthinkable
attitudes, and fought in the library for the latest journals. The sight
of those theoretic couples walking the corridors, quite estranged,
made the charwomen frantic. That was easily justified because some
of them would absent-mindedly ash on the carpets, while others,
having written a formula on a piece of paper, would crumple it and
after looking in vain for an urn, would throw it down on the floor,
or still worse, behind a sofa. Should it be considered a coincidence
that it was during those very years that the works which made up
the gold reserves of the theoretical department were published?
One of the charwomen, in a fit of righteous anger, cast in
bronze an everlasting image, They walk around and around,
leaving shit behind them. And now, have a look, a portrait of some
nit is hanging on the board. A prize-winner he is!
True Pride
The grad-student is chosen, as a rule, as carefully as a wife, and
then, according to a wonderful Russian tradition unknown in the
Wild West, is cherished like a beloved child. The grad-student, not
as a rule but still often enough, becomes attached to his Teacher
with all his heart, often flourishing into a life-long friendship. If
this pastoral image seems too sweet, without conflict or respectful
enough Freud, I cannot do anything about it. I can only say that
more than once I have observed at the Ioffe this wonderful
manifestation of the miracle of human communication.
However, anything can happen. Not every marriage is based
on love. And love is not always mutual. Grad-students can sometimes
be enlisted of the request of an old friend, a boss, or some special
circumstances
A highly respected theoretician, a brilliant scientist, a wonderful
teacher, an erudite and clever person had one of grad-student who
was an absolute idiot, i.e. not a man who simply does not understand
or know anything, but a complete fool. You cant make a silk purse
out of a sows ear after all. Besides that grad-student, lets call him
D, was wore a beautiful suit tailor made and carried his meager
mental capacity in a beautiful case, which naturally only aggravated
the common irritation.
Like any idiot, D noticed nothing, was sure everything was OK,
and that in due time his Teacher would certainly fulfill his duty.
That is to say, would write for him articles and later on a disserta-
tion. His Teacher tried to give him a problem, then another, a
simpler one, then the simplest; but arguing with him it was like
talking to a brick wall. Meanwhile the time of attestation was im-
placably approaching. It was imperative to present any kind of
paper, if not yet published, then to at least submit it for publica-
tion. At last, reluctantly, the Teacher said, Look here, D, B and
myself (B was the name of another grad-student, a gifted and
erudite person) have written an article in which we predict some
new interesting instability in interstellar plasma. I think there must
be an equivalent in semiconductors. Take our work and copy it
using the matching semiconductor symbols. Give it the necessary
form and bring it to me.
79 L i t t l e S e c r e t s o f T h e o r e t i c i a n s
D disappeared for a whole month. On returning, he opened his
splendid case and produced a pile of sheets, clamped with a sterling
pin. He handed it to his Teacher with an air of a modest but self-
assured man. The Teacher began to read it and grew numb.
Dear me! How can you? What have you done?! Didnt you
think at all?!
The sum of those incoherent reproaches could not any way
express the depth of emotions which gripped the reserved, middle-
aged Teacher who had seen enough in his lifetime; D had industri-
ously changed all the designations and all the astrophysical words
for the semiconductor ones. But he did not change the numeri-
cal values, leaving them as they were.
The result looked like delirium, which might be read either as a
novel of horrors or a comic book rubric which teases You cant
compose it on purpose. While the Teacher was muttering his
reproaches, his hand pressed to his heart, the grad-students face
grew petrified.
He grasped, practically snapping his neatly typed sheets, and
clamped them with his striking pin, opened his case, to put the
paper inside, and carefully locked his case and ground his teeth.
I will never again investigate anything! he uttered the historic
phrase. And left.

SHORT SKETCHES ON SOCIAL LIFE
Late 60s
Since the beginning of spring the Brownian motion in the scientific
centers of the USA becomes much more intensive! The participants
of the motion demanded the increase of entropy and a homogeneous
distribution according to the degrees of freedom.
Oh, yes! Summer is expected to be hot!
The readers of newspaper For the Soviet Physics in penned
letters to the Editorial Board, more than once, drew the attention
of the Board to the inadmissibility of the situation when the ther-
monuclear synthesis still remains uncontrolled. The Editorial Board
was glad to inform readers that the situation was changed radically
due to the appearance of the Department of CONTROLLING OF
THERMONUCLEAR SYNTHESIS which consisted of the man-
ager, his deputies, a full time secretary and a driver.
The ancient dream of humanity has come true!
(From the Newspaper For the Soviet Physics)
Early 70s
Vodka in the context of a strictly scientific approach
One of the Ioffes theoreticians, when he was young was an absolute
abstinent, i.e. he did not drink anything stronger than juice. Even
beer never passed his lips. (Later the situation changed.)
Once when his colleagues began a discussion on the question
about having a drink and a snack, Saul (that was the name of the
man) said with emphasis, I cannot understand how people drink
such an abomination as Vodka! I admit, though, that tastes differ.
81
SRC-12short sketch.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 81
But since people do like it, why cant scientists create some liquid
which possesses the same taste but would not at least cause
intoxication!
The Lenin Komsomol Prize
In spring of 1972 on the notice-board appeared an announcement
inviting young researchers (under 33) to submit works for the
Prize of the Lenin Communist Union of Young People (Komsomol),
even those not necessarily being a Komsomol member. Two weeks
later in the place of that announcement appeared another. The
latter stated that only three days were left until the dead-line, yet
not a single paper had been submitted to the Council of the
Institute. That very evening a friend of mine called and suggested,
quite insistently, that we apply. Some discussion took place.
I appealed to the wisdom of the Old Testament, repeating,
Blessed is he who does not go to the council of the impious. My
friend pointed out the wisdom of the New Testament, Knock and
the door will open
In the long run he won, for it was not much trouble for us. Just
to collect some papers, which would not take more than one day.
The next day, however, we faced a barrier whose height it is
hard to realize nowadays. It was necessary to have three copies of
each publication we had. No Xeroxes were available in those days,
and the only domestic mimeograph was the famous Era. A slow,
clumsy machine smelling of acetone was located behind an iron
door. To pass inside one had to produce a special pass, signed by
the proper authority. It took anywhere from 5 days to a month to
make the copies.
Having obtained the wanted form we timidly penetrated the
iron door and appeared before the Chief. Standing before him we
mumbled that it was very urgent (its always urgent for everyone
he replied), that the Prize of the Lenin Komsomol (all the appli-
cations are urgent here), etc After tormenting us for some time
83 S h o r t S k e t c h e s o n S o c i a l L i f e
he was obviously beginning to thaw. And then my friend made a
mistake which was nearly fatal. To answer his next, rather weak,
objection I dont have employees enough, the girls are ill now,
my friend offered quite innocently, We may do everything our-
selves, during the dinner-brake or after the work hours. The Chief s
face became distorted with malice. He blushed, tumors swelling on
his cheek-bones. Without raising his eyes at us so as not to lose
control of himself, he uttered, measuring each word, Do you
think I may trust you with the process of obtaining the hid-
den electrostatic reproduction?!
We kept silent, humiliated and miserable. There was heavy si-
lence which ended quite unexpectedly when the Chief pronounced
in a matter-of fact tone, Come tomorrow. I recalled that scene ten
years later, in 1982 or so, when a researcher who returned from the
USA shared his impressions with us, They have a Xerox on every
floor. It is always switched on, and every employee comes up and
makes a copy of whatever he-or-she likes. The speaker was trans-
ported with delight.
I wish we had the same! he exclaimed.
And a voice from the hall retorted, With an official from the
security department at each machine.
A decade later the dream came true
A famous Russian writer of the 30s wrote in his diary, They
thought in the 19th century that the main thing was to invent
radio. That would guarantee the happiness of humanity. Well, the
radio is here, but happiness is not
Returning to the prize, I will say that at the very end of our
efforts there appeared not a barrier, but rather a hitch. All papers,
approved of and signed, were placed according to the instructions
into three files and brought to the Department of the Scientific
Secretary. The files were purchased at the stationary next to the
Ioffe for 5 kopeks each. The secretary of the Scientific Secretary, an
experienced and benevolent woman, did not approve of the files.
Look what nice files C has bought for his work, she said. I
started explaining that it was not the files but the content of the
work that was important But my dashing co-author was already
rushing to the door, drawing me behind him. In the same shop we
bought three red files 15 kopeks each, exactly like those of C
and the papers went to Moscow.
In autumn not finding my name among the winners, I decided
that was the end of it. However, when a month later I was about
to go to Moscow, my energetic friend began persuading me to call
at the Central Committee of Komsomol and to take our precious
files with the reprints of our work. They may prove useful, he
repeated with unquenchable optimism. Who will keep them there?
I argued. My friend showed me the fine print on the announcement
where it was written that all authors participating in the competition
may, within a year, get their papers back. The address of the Central
Committee of Komsomol and the telephone number were given.
Thinking that it might be the first and almost certainly the last
opportunity to get to the Dragons den, I agreed.
At the indicated number a womans voice asked tenderly what
time suited me to visit them, and informed me that I was to bring
my passport and that a pass would await me on the ground floor. A
flinty young man who looked like a sportsman examined my passport
very attentively, then fixed his eyes on me, then again examined my
passport, then fixed his eyes on me for a very long time. Only then
he inserted a paper into my passport and handed it to me. The
7th floor, room 722, and do not forget to have your pass registered,
he counseled me.
I obediently took the elevator, got off on the 3rd floor and
making up my mind not to leave until I had satisfied my rightful
curiosity, started wandering about the building. There were high
ceilings and parquet floors, the walls seemed to be freshly plastered.
No other traces of vulgar luxury were visible. The doors leading
from the corridor to the offices were coated by cheap veneer of a
typical school color. Some doors were open. The rooms contained
tables very similar to school desks. Young men sitting at tables or
on them were shouting something into telephones.
I asked you whether the echelon with fighters has passed by or
not yet?!
Where on earth is your instructor?! I cant get through to him
for three days running!
It entailed all that might resemble a poor performance about
komsomol life staged by some provincial theater. The similarity was
intensified by the fact that no one was walking along the corridor.
Everybody was flying, the gait swift and bobbing, the glance piercing
and energetic. The sentences were jerky. The gestures abrupt. Fifteen
minutes later my curiosity was quite satisfied, the only thing left
was to visit the toilet. Legends were composed about rest-rooms of
the Central Committee. They were to be imagined as a fairy land
flowing with milk and honey. The visionaries assured us that in
every stall was a roll of toilet paper and nearby on the shelf there
were reserve rolls of different colors. To make one understand
what kind of emotions such stories might cause, Ill remind you
that in 1972 a young and coquettish woman who was lucky enough
to get toilet paper might have asked a shop-assistant to thread the
rolls together. Then she would wear them round her neck like a
necklace, walking proudly along the streets, causing burning lust in
men and enjoying the envious hisses of less successful women.
The toilets were quite clean. In some cabins there really were
rolls, while in others there were just lonely white cardboard cylinders.
The hand towel might be cleaner. In a word, I reached the
conclusion that no special surprises were awaiting me there. How
wrong I was!
A man with an athletic figure energetically flung the door open
and rushed in. He shut the door with the same energy, glanced
around and drooped, as a balloon was pierced with an awl before
my eyes. His face grew gray and wrinkled, his knees bent. He
stooped and shuffled to the urinal. Approaching it, with his left
hand he leaned against the wall while with his right hand he was
abruptly, by jerks, undoing the zip. All this time he was moaning
and groaning. Then he somehow zipped his trousers, looking down
like an old man, still groaning and moaning without stopping.
Shuffling, he made toward the door. I was stupefied. I stared at
him feeling ready to support the falling body and to call for help.
The man took hold of the door handle and moaned for the last
time. Then another miracle happened. His back straightened up.
His shoulders squared. His cheeks were of high color. He flung the
door open and swiftly rushed away I looked out. The man was
resiliently flying along the corridor to meet another Adonis. He
did speak at the rally. He came himself and he spoke! he
shouted victoriously
A hellish place, I concluded and without loitering any longer
went up to the 7th floor.
After knocking and receiving an invitation to come in, I found
himself in a very large room full of metallic shelves. There were
hundreds of files on those shelves, placed cover to cover. And what
kind of files! Each of them (no less than $100 each) might decorate
the Baltic exhibition of leather work.
A young man sitting at the window took my pass and, having
looked up a register, suggested that I should find my files myself.
Our red Cinderellas, 15 kopeks a piece, were seen from afar, and
made an impression like paupers at a diplomatic reception. I pre-
tended, however, to be examining the covers very attentively and
walked along the shelves. I drew out at random one of the files.
On the morocco of a noble mouse-gray color there were letters
printed in pure gold: Our knowledge to you, dear Komsomol!
Below, a Komsomol emblem was embroidered with gold threads of
two different shades of color, God knows by what kind technique.
Still lower in silver thread was given the name of some Moscow
Institute. And only then, the names of the authors. And at long
last the title of the work: On the role of the mustard oils at the
rupture of some plants. I felt sick. I took my orphans, signed in
the register and left.
On coming back to St. Petersburg I vividly described what I had
seen to my friend. I told you 5 or 15 kopecks would make no
difference. I concluded my story.
Oh, the man was right in getting your measure, my friend
parried, You cannot be trusted the process of obtaining the hidden
electrostatic reproduction.
Late 70s
The experience of social-political defloration
To be awarded a prestigious scientific prize it is advisable to do
work which will be cited and referred to, which is said to have
created the basis of a new scientific field, etc But in fact those are
not the main things.
Cynics without any trouble will point out to you dozens of first-
rate works not given any award, and dozens of quite ordinary
works, forgotten shortly after their appearance and still awarded
prestigious scientific prizes.
The main thing to have in your collective body is a person who
knows the Moscow kitchen which bakes those pies very well, who
knows the back door of that kitchen and is familiar with all the
cooks. It must be a man who is ready to write an immense number
of papers, to spend time, energy, and nerves to court God knows
whom, to intrigue, counter-intrigue and counter-counter-intrigue.
Once upon a time, the position of planets favorable, the work
done well, the wanted man found, and the work was in full swing.
The mover of the company to receive the prize could not only
enter the kitchen from the back door, but he was himself one of
the cooks. That means he was not only a skillful tactician but also
a subtle strategist. While under his guidance they prepared at the
Ioffe various routine papers, presentations, characteristics, warrants
etc. he himself took, in Moscow, all the necessary steps,
demanding a deep knowledge of life, of secret springs and of under-
currents. The most essential visits had already been made. Influential
people had been involved, rare stamps had been presented. Rumors
defaming the rivals had been started Then what?
All the enormous and complicated machine of the intrigue was
quite unexpectedly brought to a standstill. The Communistic Party
Committee of the Ioffe refused to vouch for the reference on the
young theoretician S. That was an obvious and annoying foolishness.
Who even considers those references? Who doesnt know that it is
the man-in question himself who writes them, after which those
Invested Persons sign them without reading? But Well, I never
They wont sign it! And even the insistent requests of the influential
mover do not help.
But why?
As everyone knows, every reference must contain some sacramen-
tal phrase like Takes an active part in social work or such, ac-
cording to the circumstances. It is very good if disclosing the image
one can write, He (or she) is a member of the Party Committee.
It is not bad if one can write A member of the Trade Union
Committee. Even a member of the voluntary peoples patrol will
do. There are many different formulations. In the most desperate
situations one can say Delivers certain messages
In the case under consideration, however, neither of the formu-
lations was suitable. The candidate for the prize was absolutely
innocent. He did not play any games. He never executed any com-
missions or never delivered any messages.
We cant say that his colleagues who applied for that very prize
were overly zealous in performing their social duties. But it was
possible to write at least something about them. While this
participant was defiantly innocent. His chastity was so dazzling that
it caused a natural irritation not only of the inveterate tarts, but
also of anyone who was among the Retinue to the Board. As a
result, he received a snub.
It should be mentioned that the man himself, was ostracized,
but did not take it to heart. He quite justly believed that, as like
money, it did not offer much; his honor did not depend on prize
either. As for his scientific reputation, it had nothing to do with
any prizes. But nevertheless he felt awkward. Some of his colleagues
were eager to get that prize. And he was not used to letting down
his friends.
One evening I dropped by his untidy, smokes room. I found
him in the company of the experimentalist, L who was said to be a
man of the world known by everybody at the Ioffe. The friends
were drinking and complaining to each other about life. After the
story about the Party Committee had been told and the due number
of curses had been uttered, L said, Look here, one of these days
the Secretary of the Party Committee will be leaving. Get his deputy
to sign it. I know him. He is a normal man, he wont put a spoke
in your wheel over such trifles. After all, the Ioffe is interested in
you getting this prize no less than your group is S gave a
gloomy smile, Clever as you are, you are not so clever as the
mover. The latter had already spoken to the deputy and explored
the ground. He wont sign it!
Would you like me to go to him?
It will be a waste of time. I appreciate your approaches, though
sometimes they irritate me immensely. Dont get offended, but you
cant compete with the mover. You cant suggest anything he had
not been thinking over before, can you?
A week later, S was waving the signed reference before my nose.
I went to L to listen to his explanations. And I heard the following
story:
I have known the deputy for 15 years. So I asked him directly
what that nonsense meant. And just fancy! He answered me quite
sincerely.
I understand, he said, S is a brilliant theoretician, etc. But
tell me, please. Why on earth must I spend half my time on social
work, while he doesnt raise a finger to do anything of the sort,
and moreover, whenever he has a chance he speaks about ANY
kind of social work with emphasized aversion. Well, thats up to
him. But I wont sign his reference where it is written that he takes
an active part in social work!!
Yes, I see, I said, But you must confess that your post obliges
you to make still worse compromises. Do you want me to tell you
why this simple trivial situation makes you feel such big emotions?
Ive explained it to you, havent I?!
No, old man, that is just the face of it. What happens in fact is
that when you look at S, you and the secretary experience the same
feeling that any man does when he looks at a virgin. On one hand,
her innocence causes lofty feelings and a desire to kneel down
before her. On other hand, there is a persistent desire to deprive
her of her innocence, perhaps even in a perverted form. You feel
the same towards S: at heart you admire his social innocence, on
the other hand you are eager to disgrace him immediately. Do you
agree?
Well, how did he react to it?
He burst out laughing and told me to bring his reference for
him to sign it Provided I warrant that S will perform some social
duties.
And?
He agreed to be responsible for the civil defense.
So they deflorated him!
Oh yes, they did.
Academic and Reactor
At the very end of the 70s a representative delegation, headed by
an Academic, veteran of the Ioffe, came to one of the Soviet nuclear
stations. The delegation comprised representatives of the Ministry
of Nuclear Energy, of the Academy of Sciences and God knows of
what other Ministries and Departments. All in all, 20 people.
The man on duty gave orders to remove the lid from one of the
reactors wells and the members of the delegation got an opportunity
to approach it and to peep inside. The Cherenkov radiation of
marvelous beauty was blazing there.
Well, dont get too fascinated by it, the man on duty warned
them dont stand there too long!
Why not? somebody asked
There were only men in the delegation, and the man on duty
answered bluntly, Youll find out WHY when you lie down with
your wife at night.
The men moved backwards.
Thats not for me, the Academic retorted. He came up to the
well and again admired with great interest the wizard radiation.
Late 80s
A tank and a bug
A wave of perestroyka overwhelmed the Ioffe. In vain did the aged
people repeat Davids second psalm:
Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing?
The eyes of the young people were shining. And the eyes of the
young theoretician, L, were shining defiantly. He had just finished
his grad-student course. He did it brilliantly and became an indis-
pensable man at the department, headed by Academic A, a very
influential person. The Academic wanted L to work at his depart-
ment, but he could not manage to arrange it at once. The thing is
that L was Jewish. Though perhaps every fourth employee at the
Institute was Jewish, it would take pains to hire another branded
person. By that time perestroyka had shaken many pillars, but this
one was steady. Whenever any chief wanted to hire a Jew, it was
necessary to apply to the District (perhaps to the City or even
State) Party Committee, which was far from easy, demanded long
and exhausting efforts, etc.
Meanwhile A found a job for L at one of the Leningrad
Universities. L spent 1 percent of his time at that University, 10
percent at the Theoretical Department of the Ioffe, while the
rest of the time he devoted to various democratic meetings which
he attended very zealously. Such distribution of time did not delight
A. Quite by chance I witnessed the following scene. A man of As
retinue addressed L with the following words, Look here, A asked
me to tell you that if you go on like this, there will be difficulties
with your future job in the Ioffe.
L thought for a moment, and shook his head.
Then he uttered a phrase which became historic: Oh, you
cant crush a bug with a tank.
In August of 1991, he was on patrol on the barricade at the
Leningrad Council. In 1994, he protested against the war in
Chechnya. Later it became clear to him that he would not be able
to feed his three children and he left the country. First, he went to
Germany. Then to the USA.
Physical Society at the IOFFE Institute
Now when 15 years have passed since the beginning of perestroyka, it is
difficult to recall, and on recalling it is hard to believe, how high the
spirit of Russian science has risen, how enthusiastic people became as a
rule composed and reserved
One of the manifestations of that general rise was the establishment
at the Ioffe Institute of a mysterious structure, called Dialogue.
Dialogue conducted interrogations of the people with various social
opinions, and the results were promulgated on the stands quite freely.
Another manifestation was the formation of the Physical Society. As
far as I know, this society still safely exists which proves that it has
found for itself a proper ecological niche. At the time of its formation,
however, the reasons for its creation seemed unconvincing. The
constituent manifesto said something about perfection of morality, about
the example to youth and about some other rather vague subjects. It
was apparently the latter circumstances that caused the appearance of
a satirical article which was hung by an anonymous author beside the
manifesto of Society. The text of that article, diligently copied by me
many years ago, seems to me to be of interest even now.
The news about the formation of the Physical Society at our
Institute made a great impression on me. Judging by talks with my
colleagues, I was not alone. I have been waiting two weeks for the
Dialogue to ask me what I thought it, but they did not. Then I
fancied what might have happened if they did.
The Dialogue: Do you know that a Physical Society has
been created at our Institute? What do you think about this initiative?
I: Yes, I do. Its always hard to say what can be expected of a
new-born. It seems to me, however, that the parents have every
reason to be worried about the fate of the baby.
D: What makes you think so?
I: First of all, the old age of the parents alarms me. It is well-
known that if the parents are older than 45, the peril of serious
genetic affection of the foetus is greatly increased. According
to my estimation, the average age of the Father-Founders is on
the right side of 50. To my mind, a clever man of that age
must think of his soul, getting ready to meet He who sent him
to this world. All attempts to moralize and, especially, to
admonish youth most often display trouble-making. Besides, a
man of that age is vulnerable from the point of Maupassants
paradoxes.
D: What do you mean?
I: Maupassant wrote that most severe moral principles are most
often propagated by old tarts whose age and illness make them
unable to sin.
Besides, I am worried about the difference in the reputations
of those who founded the Order. Among them there are people
of flawless moral and scientific reputation. On the other hand,
the names of some of the Father-Founders are mentioned
whenever one speaks of boorishness or servile psychology which,
alas, did not escape the Ioffe.
D: What do you mean?
I: I mean the disrespectful tone the chiefs use when addressing
their subordinates. Who does not know a mean habit of some
chiefs of labs not to answer the greetings of their subordinates,
or to give just a hardly discernable nod? That manner luckily
coincides with a cheerful expression of the face and low bows
towards the Director. Which of you did not admire a picturesque
contrast between the manner of speaking through set teeth
when addressing their subordinates, raising their eye brows and
fastidiously drumming their fingers on the table, and a brilliant
articulation when speaking to the Director?
What ethical norms are these boors going to establish?
Besides, among the Father-Founders there are some so called
sharks, i.e. the scientific bosses who have established in their
departments such an order that the subordinates cannot but
include their bosses into the list of co-authors of any publication
so desired. Irrespective of the fact as to whether or not he had
anything to do with it. In some laboratories it became so normal
that it does not strike anyone that it may be otherwise.
What kind of ethics can be established by such thieves and
corrupters of good morals?
D: You advance very serious accusations. Will you name concrete
people?
I: No, I will not. First, I am afraid. These adherents of scientific
ethics hounded people to death for much more inoffensive
utterances. Secondly, such accusations, even though strictly
proved, if they were advanced by one person, are always of a
subjective nuance.
Then, compelling to sexual life is a thing which happens
not very seldom, but it is very seldom prosecuted. It is very
difficult to be proved, and ways of compelling are quite various,
especially in the intellectual circles. I think that Dialogue alone
will not cope with it. On the other hand, in our case this form
of assault concerns hundreds of people. So for the professional
sociologist it will not be very difficult to prove the existence of
the right of the first night and to give the names of the
sharks. Of course, applying to the professionals may require
means. But should Dialogue call on people for voluntary
donation to conduct this kind of social investigation, I am sure
that both the sum collected and the number of donors will
show very clearly how pressing this subject is for the Institute.
If the results of the qualified and independent inspection are
published and the names of the sharks are given, the Physical
Society will make in important contribution to the solution of
the noble task of improving the morals.
D: Have you exhausted your claims to the Society?
I: I think I have. Though, there is just another small remark. I
address the item of the regulations which states that only a
person who has made an appreciable contribution to science
may become a member of the society. This demand which
speaks of modesty and good taste of the Father-Founders, is
very funny. Whose contribution to science should be considered
appreciable? Those of A. Einstein? Of B. Ivanov? I think it is
not even snobbery, but other pure nonsense, which again returns
me to the idea that the true struggle for scientific ethics for a
man advanced in years consists in his fight against his inferior
memory and his growing self-satisfaction.
D: Can we conclude, on account of your remarks, that you are
against the formation of the Physical Society?
I: By no means. Any voluntary society, not pursuing any misan-
thropic ideas, has a right to exist.
Pediatrics nowadays does miracles. Especially for those who
can afford them. I hope the child will recover. Who knows?
Perhaps we have reached the time when children are not
responsible for their parents..
D: Thank you for a very interesting interview.
I: Thank you for your attention.
Late 90s
The last order
For room 000
Cossacks! Rumors have it that one of these days the Cossack
chieftain of the special electric squadron V.I.P. will be 70!
Happy birthday to you, Our dear brother and Comrade-in-
arms!
In this connection I ORDER:
Section 1. To allow the V.I.P. to keep on coming to his office and
to work for the good of Our Motherland.
Section 2. To award V.I.P. a big Orthodox Diamond Cross, changing
the diamonds for the adequate amount of the chewing gam
Stimorol.
Section 3. To honor the V.I.P. in the capacity of an Honorary
Citizen of the region entrusted to Us, informing him of the secret
code of the hygienic institutions on the adjoining territories
*
. The
Security Department of the Ioffe is to provide an accelerated
legalization of the proper documents.
Section 4. On account of Sections 2 and 3 of the present Order, to
promote the V.I.P. as a candidate to the Society of Nobility of the
Ioffe Institute according to the quota of non-Russians.
Section 5. In view of the regulation of financing, which is being
conducted now and the revision of the salaries of the management
from 11.30.1992, considering all fines and arrears, the V.I.P. is to
pay to the fund of the Ioffe Institute a sum of 837 rubles 04
kopecks, which is to be done by 01.09.98.
Section 6. Taking an opportunity we remind all the Cossacks that
(a) according to the behests of St. Cyrill and Mephody, while writing
equations it is necessary to use only the CYRRILIC letters. As
an exception, GREEK letters are also admitted as symbols of a
spiritually related people.
(b) The wrong formulas are not subject to taxes.
Long live Cossacks!
Chief of the room
(Signature)
August 20, 1998
*
See the section: Foreigners at the FTI, the article Digression: The Smell of
Science.
CONCLUSION
Many years ago, a friend of mine along with his four-year-old
daughter visited me. We let the girl sit on a carpet, gave her a lot
of toys, color pencils, paper, put a small table with dolls before
her and with a clear conscience sat down to talk things over,
speaking of life and science. The girl was (then) obedient and
quiet. She was fiddling about with her dolls and a teddy-bear, was
singing quietly to them. Then she was painting and then she put
the dolls to bed.
Then all the three of us had tea after which the guests left. I
began to tidy the room and on the carpet I found a sheet of paper
on which it was written in printed letters:
I phoned her father and asked him whether he often read to his
daughter about the breaking up of the First Russia Constituent
Assembly (1918). The father swore that he never! The girls mother,
grandmother and grandfather were questioned zealously, but they
denied everything.
I have saved that sheet of paper and look at it the way Valtazar
must have looked at the fiery letters on the wall Mene, Tekel,
Uparsin: You have been weighed and found very light
That was the truth that came out of mouth of a baby (a grad-
student now) a quarter of century ago. The hall is closed.
97
SRC-13conclus.p65 06/05/2002, 3:22 PM 97
Irrespective of the fact whether the members of the Council
come in time or not, whether they finish in due time or not, the
door is closed. We resist as hard as we can. We hold the doors with
our hands, knees and shoulders. We write proposals, get grants, go
abroad to earn money. But the doors slowly close. The equipment
wears out. The strongest of us leave. Those who remain lose heart
The doors are closing.
Are they ever to open again? I believe they did not in the time
of our generation. Let us hope they will open for the next
generation:
Is there anything whereof it may be said, See, this is new? It
had been already of old time, which was before us.
(Ecclesiastics 1.10)
SRC-13conclus.p65 06/05/2002, 3:11 PM 98

The Spirit of Russian Science

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

You might also like

The Spirit of Russian Science

Uploaded by

Document Information

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

The Spirit of Russian Science

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

In the original it is much stronger.

Cited from memory, so there may be some bad mistakes here.

An extract from the famous verse by Pushkin.

For room 000

You might also like