Russian oligarch wants 72-hour workweeks to ‘save’ the economy
Oleg Deripaska just asked 145 million Russians to clock in at 8 a.m., leave at 8 p.m. and kiss their Saturdays goodbye. The aluminium tycoon calls it patriotism; economists call it a death march.
From global player to regional cage
The man who once entertained Davos now sells the idea that national survival hinges on 72-hour weeks. In a Telegram manifesto fired off this week, Deripaska warns the Kremlin is not facing a routine recession but a structural lock-out: the West no longer wants Russian capital, tech or, in many cases, oil. “We must switch to regional opportunities,” he writes, a euphemism for whatever Beijing, Delhi or Ankara will still buy.
His prescription: brute labour. If factories stay open six-and-a-half days, the lost export revenue will, supposedly, be replaced by sheer sweat. The maths is brutal and simple—replace barrels with backs.
Oil is up, yet the vault is empty
Brent flirted with $104 this morning, up 72 % since January. You would expect champagne in the finance ministry. Instead, the budget deficit is widening. Sanctions have rerouted tankers around Africa, insurance premiums have tripled and the EU embargo is tighter than ever. The result: every extra dollar on the screen buys Moscow less than half of what it did in 2021.
Deripaska sees the trap. “Higher crude is an illusion,” he wrote last week, predicting Middle-East chaos will eventually craterglobaldemand. His solution: squeeze workers before the barrel race ends.
The ghost in the factory
Rusal itself is already a case study in exhaustion. At the Krasnoyarsk smelter, shifts stretch 12 hours with no extra days off since April. Injuries are up 19 %, according to union leaks, yet the company’s aluminium output has fallen 7 %. Longer hours, it turns out, do not automatically equal more widgets—just more accidents and attrition.
Still, Deripaska’s rant channels a wider elite panic. The Economy grew only 1 % last year, a cliff-dive from 2024’s 4.3 %. Inflation is 9.4 % and the rouble just crossed 97 to the dollar. The Kremlin’s rainy-day fund is burning $8 bn a month to cover military invoices. There is no slack left, so the oligarch wants to steal it from workers’ calendars.
What moscow hears
State television has so far ignored the 72-hour proposal; unions are louder. “We refuse to finance the budget with our blood,” declared the Federation of Independent Trade Unions, promising sector-wide strikes if parliament dares to touch the labour code. Even United Russia lawmakers admit privately the idea is “radioactive” ahead of regional elections.
Yet silence from the top is not rejection. Vladimir Putin once boasted Russia’s “advantage” was its people’s tolerance for pain. If the Economy slips further, 12-hour slogans could migrate from Telegram to decree faster than anyone expects.
Deripaska ended his post with a dare: “Let’s see who is willing to work for the motherland.” The answer may determine whether Russia’s next export is aluminium—or desperation.