Feodor Shkrudnev

In the previous articles of this series, we have already come close to understanding one important thing: modern civilization is experiencing not just a crisis, rather a crisis of direction. This is not a crisis of resources, not a crisis of technology, and not even a crisis of knowledge in its applied sense. It is a crisis on a deeper level — the level at which it is determined where humanity is moving and for what purpose it moves at all. At first glance, it may seem that humanity has NEVER POSSESSED such capabilities as it does today. We can split the atom, model extremely complex processes, create artificial intelligence, and manage global systems. Yet despite all this power, the main question remains open: IN WHAT DIRECTION is this power directed?

In the previous articles of this series, we attempted to look at modern civilization somewhat from the outside — as if observing the movement of a massive train carrying billions of people. All of them are moving in the same direction. All are part of a single historical process. Yet they perceive what is happening in completely different ways. Some look ahead, trying to understand where this train is going. Others are occupied with their own affairs in the passenger cars. Still others see only isolated fragments of what is happening. And some are not even aware of the existence of the tracks at all. Yet there is one question that concerns every single passenger on this train without exception. It is the question of death.

Paradigms do not collapse all at once: first, cracks appear in them, and only then, through those cracks, a new picture of the world becomes visible; in the previous article, we discussed how a person begins to move beyond the habitual picture of the world, how most people live within certain ideas about reality that seem natural and the only possible ones, and we used the image of a train to show how people’s outlook differs and how its breadth determines the ability to see the direction of civilization’s movement; however, stepping out of the “tank” is only the FIRST STEP.

Sometimes a text appears not in order to give answers. Sometimes it arises because the familiar answers stop working. And then thought is forced to look for a path to where words end. That is exactly where the conversation beyond the text begins.

In the history of humanity there come moments when familiar words stop explaining what is happening. We continue to use the same concepts, the same formulas of thinking, the same explanations of history and modernity, yet gradually WE BEGIN TO FEEL that they are no longer capable of encompassing reality. They seem to slide across the surface of events without touching their true depth. Today is exactly such a moment.

Sometimes you just want to write, “Happy March 8th, dear women!” — add some flowers, a touch of springtime spirit, a few warm words about beauty and tenderness… and leave it at that. To say only what is customary on such days, without going deeper, without stirring unnecessary thoughts, allowing the celebration to remain light and transparent. However, this year I COULD NOT limit myself to a greeting card. Too much is happening around us. The familiar picture of the world is changing too quickly. People are asking too many questions — and too rarely receiving clear answers.

We are living in an era when familiar forms of stability begin to crack not from external pressure, rather from within. It is not only institutions that are collapsing — the very foundations upon which public consciousness has rested are eroding. What only yesterday seemed unshakable — the system of values, the model of statehood, ideological constructs, notions of good and evil — today raises more and more questions. And at this moment, the rhetoric of spirituality, patriotism, traditional values, and the divine destiny of the nation intensifies. The state HURRIES TO ENTRENCH in schools the foundations of “spiritual and moral culture,” emphasizing the special role of religious institutions in educating the younger generation. On the surface — concern for the moral foundation of society. However, a philosophical perspective must ask: why now?

The future never arises from emptiness. It does not "arrive" by itself and is not the result of the mechanical passage of time. The future is the unfolding of what is permissible within the bounds of measure. And if measure is not understood, then the future is perceived as chance, as threat, as inevitability — but not as a manageable process.