Something unsettling is happening in Russia, and it’s not just the obvious stuff—the battlefield losses or the sanctions. It’s the quiet desperation seeping into everyday life, the kind that makes people pull their own teeth rather than visit a dentist.
According to reports from Izvestia, Russians are increasingly buying do-it-yourself dental kits, with advertisements for these products surging by 330% compared to last year. The fact that this is even being reported in Russia’s heavily censored media tells you everything: medical professionals are desperately warning people against this dangerous practice. You don’t resort to amateur dentistry unless you’re truly out of options—either because you can’t afford professional care or because there simply aren’t enough dentists left to see.
This isn’t happening in isolation. Russia’s healthcare system is hemorrhaging workers, stretched impossibly thin as the war machine devours resources and personnel. What’s emerging is a picture of a society cannibalizing itself, quite literally in some cases. Reports have surfaced of Russian soldiers on the front lines resorting to cannibalism—something not seen since the desperate siege of Stalingrad during World War II.
But perhaps most telling is what’s happening at the top of Russian society. In recent days, one of Russia’s wealthiest men—a gold magnate and Putin loyalist—was arrested while attempting to flee the country on his private jet. A court order had been issued to nationalize his empire, part of a broader pattern of the state seizing assets from its own oligarchs. This represents a fundamental shift. In 2022, 2023, even early 2024, Putin wasn’t going after his most loyal supporters. Now he’s devouring them.
The timing is revealing. Just hours after Ukraine launched hundreds of drones deep into Russian territory, shutting down massive portions of the country’s airspace, another high-ranking official—the former governor of Kursk who also served as transport minister—was found dead in an apparent suicide. He’d been dismissed from his position just 24 hours earlier.
These aren’t random coincidences. They’re symptoms of a system under extreme pressure. The people stranded in Moscow and St. Petersburg airports during the drone attacks weren’t ordinary travelers—only 29% of Russians even hold passports.
These were the elite, the decision-makers, the people who actually matter in Putin’s system. And the war is finally reaching them.
Ukraine has figured out exactly where to apply pressure. By targeting oil refineries, they’re hitting Russia’s bank account directly. Operations like “Spiderweb”—strikes on strategic military sites where drones are manufactured and planes launch from—create cascading logistical nightmares. After one such operation, trucks across entire regions had to be searched, causing massive delays for everything from food deliveries to medical supplies.
What’s particularly striking is Ukraine’s drone production surge. This month alone, they manufactured 200,000 drones—ten times more than in July 2024. Ukraine now outpaces the United States in drone production, and there’s a crucial difference: Ukrainian drones are tested on the battlefield within hours, providing instant feedback that allows for rapid design improvements. American military contractors, by contrast, work on annual update cycles through procurement contracts.
The implications are staggering. The next phase of drone warfare will be swarms—massive coordinated attacks that can overwhelm air defense systems. In this numbers game, Ukraine is positioning itself to dominate. They’re already talking about reaching a million drones per month.
Frankly, the mood in Ukraine reflects this shift. European diplomats and officials are constantly visiting Kyiv, and major aid packages—like the recently announced €40 billion commitment—signal growing confidence in Ukraine’s prospects. There’s a palpable sense that the tide is turning.
This doesn’t mean Russia will simply collapse tomorrow. Putin’s system has proven remarkably resilient. But when a country’s elite start fleeing on private jets and ordinary citizens resort to DIY dental surgery, you’re looking at a society under profound strain. The question isn’t whether these cracks will spread—it’s how quickly, and what happens when they finally reach the Kremlin itself.
