"Botany is a science; engineering is a way to change the world."
— Eric Berne

"An engineer is someone who can take a theory and put wheels on it."
— Leonard Levinson

"An engineer can do anything!"

— Rudolf Diesel

Engineering education is one of the most widely discussed topics in today’s academic and professional communities. What should it look like? Where do we draw the line between fundamental science and applied challenges? And what is the mission of a classical university in an era when higher education is expected not only to train specialists, but to nurture individuals capable of thinking across disciplines and industries?

In this edition of the TSU Rector’s Blog, Eduard Galazhinskiy sits down with someone on the front lines of modern industry: Ivan Pushkaryov, CEO of the Tomsk Electromechanical Plant (TEMZ), a man with over 40 years of experience in the field who has risen fr om engineer to executive. He knows better than anyone what knowledge, skills, and qualities truly matter in real-world production.

This conversation is a serious attempt to explore the future of engineering thought, the role of universities in the new economy, and the young professionals entering the field. It is especially timely now, on the eve of university admissions season, when yesterday’s high school students are choosing their educational paths. It’s also relevant for bachelor’s graduates considering a master’s program and for those just starting their professional journey.

The discussion about the role of the engineer in the 21st century is not an abstract debate, it’s a practical guide that helps clarify which skills are in demand among employers, which competencies need to be developed during university, and why interdisciplinary thinking is becoming the key to success in the industries of the future.

Background

Ivan Pushkaryov is a deputy of the Legislative Duma of Tomsk Oblast and a graduate of both Tomsk Polytechnic University (TPU, 1986) and Tomsk State University (TSU, 2004). With a background in both engineering and management, he brings over 40 years of professional experience, including 37 years in the machine-building industry. Since 2002, he has served as CEO of the Tomsk Electromechanical Plant (TEMZ).

Pushkaryov plays an active role in advancing the region’s industrial potential. He chairs the regional commission on industry and entrepreneurship, serves on the commission on labor relations, and is a member of the local employers’ association. 

Eduard Galazhinskiy (E.G.): Today, we find ourselves at a point wh ere the world around us demands a serious rethinking of fundamental concepts: What does it mean to be an engineer? What constitutes a quality engineering education? And what is the role of a classical university in preparing engineers? Engineering is no longer just about mechanisms and technical drawings. It’s about ways of thinking, understanding systems, and making decisions under conditions of high uncertainty. Ivan Ivanovich, how would you define the essence of the engineering profession today?

Ivan Pushkaryov (I.P.): If we’re talking about the essence of engineering today, it’s definitely not just about working with blueprints or mechanical systems. It’s about pushing the limits of what humans can achieve in technology and science. The machine-building sector is one of the most complex fields, it demands precision, effort, endurance, the ability to think systemically, and the capacity to act without the luxury of making mistakes.

To me, an engineer is first and foremost someone who is willing to take responsibility. What sets them apart is their depth, focus, and commitment to seeing a task through to completion. For me personally, the ultimate role model in the profession has always been — and still is — Sergei Korolev. He’s a symbol. A true engineer of the highest caliber.

For reference:

"Sergei Korolev’s name was classified during his lifetime. Neither in Russia nor abroad could one hear anything about him except 'unknown' or 'the mysterious Chief Designer.' According to the recollections of his daughter, Korolev missed out on receiving the Nobel Prize twice because of this secrecy, once for the launch of the first satellite, and once for Gagarin’s spaceflight."

"Korolev always took responsibility for his decisions, even when he wasn’t entirely certain. In 1959, engineers asked him: is the Moon solid or covered in dust? Korolev replied that it was solid. Someone asked, 'But what guarantees do we have that’s true?' Korolev tore off a piece of newspaper, wrote 'The Moon is solid,' and signed his name."

Source: https://alpinabook.ru/catalog/book-chemu-ya-mogu-nauchitsya-u-sergeya-korolyeva/

I’ve gone through the entire path myself, starting out at the plant as a junior engineer. When I graduated fr om university, I couldn’t have imagined how dramatically the engineering profession in our country would change. Today, we’ve built an enterprise that reflects years of hard work, accumulated knowledge, and, without exaggeration, a part of our lives.

Over the course of my career, I’ve visited more than two hundred manufacturing facilities around the world — in Japan, Korea, and across Europe — so I have a clear sense of what true machine-building production should look like. Here at our plant, we run a fully integrated production cycle: fr om casting and heat treatment to high-precision machining. Everything is done in-house. We know every stage of the process, and we take great pride in that. Our team includes engineers at all levels. No matter what equipment they operate, everyone understands their area of responsibility. And they have to, because the machinery we work with is incredibly complex. It’s no longer just a machine tool, it’s practically a spacecraft. It’s ten times more complex than a car. To understand how it works, you need knowledge of mechanics, gas dynamics, metallurgy, and materials science.

That’s why, when young professionals join us, we’re not discouraged if they lack some knowledge. We know how to teach them. What matters most is their willingness to learn. Fr om there, everything is possible. We have people on our team who truly embody engineering thinking. That’s what enables us to solve top-level challenges, including, for example, in our collaboration with Gazprom.

So, an engineer today is someone who possesses a solid foundation of knowledge, systems thinking, and the ability to operate in conditions of high technological and organizational complexity.

E.G.: Ivan Ivanovich, when you look at modern manufacturing, especially a facility like yours, it becomes clear that we’re no longer talking about just workshops and machinery. What we’re seeing is a truly intellectual system. It’s not a plant in the traditional sense, but rather a world-class technological platform. In this context, what expectations do you have for today’s graduates? What really matters to you?

I.P.: Yes, you’re absolutely right. And if we’re talking about why, in recent years, we’ve increasingly focused on graduates fr om physics and mathematics departments, the answer is simple: these are people with a distinct type of mindset. Graduates from those fields think differently. Today, there are no simple tasks for engineers, every problem lies at the intersection of disciplines. You can’t solve them by staying within the boundaries of a single specialty.

That’s why, as a traditional engineer myself, I sometimes find it difficult. Even when you’re fully immersed in the production process, you don’t always find the solution. But a physics or math graduate approaches the problem differently. They work with abstractions and models, they’re used to complexity, and that’s immediately obvious.

I spend about four hours every day on the production floor, including Saturdays. I talk with young professionals, observe them. They’re different from how we were at their age. Just recently, for example, three young specialists joined us — Sergey, Anna, and Solbon. We started a conversation. Their first question was, “What exactly will we be doing here?” I asked in return, “How do you envision a modern enterprise?”

Because today’s manufacturing, both in the West and here, is asking very different things of graduates. It’s no longer enough to be a narrow specialist. That’s not what the industry needs anymore. Today, you have to be able to see the entire system, understand its broader contexts, and integrate knowledge from different domains. That’s what your university provides.

Graduates of Tomsk State University, and I don’t say this lightly, are people who can work anywhere. All doors in the country are truly open to them.

TSU Graduates Working at the Tomsk Electromechanical Plant

Sergey Naumov graduated from the Faculty of Physics and Technology, Department of Applied Mechanics. He works as a specialist in the assembly, calibration, and testing of control valves and electric drives, which are later used at compressor stations along major gas pipelines such as Power of Siberia, Nord Stream, and other large-scale industrial facilities. When he applied to TSU in 2012, he chose the Faculty of Physics and Technology because at the time, it was ranked the number one program in Russia among similar faculties.

Anna Kuznetsova is a graduate of the Faculty of Physics, Department of Optics and Spectroscopy. In choosing her career path, she relied entirely on her father, a professional physicist, a decision she has never regretted. Anna studied at TSU for ten years, completing her bachelor’s, master’s, and doctoral programs. According to her, this full-cycle academic background has been a great asset in her work. Today, she holds a highly responsible position as a technical quality control specialist.

Solbon Galsanov is another graduate of the Faculty of Physics and Technology. He holds a PhD in Engineering. Solbon chose TSU because of his deep interest in physics and mathematics. After taking second place in an academic competition, he was granted early admission through an external placement track. Initially drawn to robotics, he later transferred to applied mechanics. Today, he works at TEMZ as a process engineer, overseeing 5-axis CNC milling machines manufactured by the Swiss company Mikron. Solbon is also entrusted with training new specialists. He calls TSU “the best university in Siberia” and encourages aspiring engineers to apply there.

E.G.: This ties directly into the age-old debate about the role of university education. How is it different from specialized training? Vocational or industry-specific education typically prepares a person for a particular job from the outset. A graduate of a teacher-training college, for example, leaves with proven methods, tools, and skills in hand, and immediately enters the workforce in a clearly defined role. That’s what the program is designed for.

A classical university is something else entirely. It is built on the idea of a universum of knowledge, that’s wh ere the name comes fr om. A university education is grounded in a strong academic foundation. Much of the educational journey is dedicated to mastering core theoretical disciplines and building interdisciplinary connections. For this reason, university graduates have often been criticized for lacking pragmatism, for not being market-ready, for lacking applied skills. And this is an old argument. We’ve been hearing it since the 1990s, when there were serious proposals to eliminate “excessive” math and other difficult subjects in order to “prepare students directly for the workplace.”

But in reality, it often works the other way around: a person who has spent significant time studying physics, mathematics, or chemistry ends up being more capable of solving complex applied problems than someone who was trained specifically to solve only those applied problems from the start. How do we explain this paradox?

The truth is, even the most seemingly ordinary tasks today often fall far outside the scope of routine solutions. Their complexity requires a very particular kind of thinking—one that can grasp and manage entire systems, adapt to rapidly changing situations, and create something entirely new.

I.P.: I completely agree. In my view, the key challenge today is to teach people how to think at the intersection of disciplines. That’s a distinct kind of thinking, and it deserves a separate conversation.

To be frank, even a well-prepared “typical” engineer is not always equipped to handle the kinds of challenges we face on a daily basis. Here’s a simple example: we work with temperatures as low as -180°C. Can you imagine that? Water, for the most part, exists in the “positive” temperature range. But in our systems, gases can be at +60°C or -50°C. In those conditions, if someone thinks in a standard, linear, by-the-book way, they won’t be able to do anything. It’s a dead end.

But then a graduate from your university, say, a mathematician, comes in and… solves it. With complete confidence. He lectures at the university and works here at the plant, and he calculates gas dynamics with ease. At the same time, he dives deep into the production details. That’s what I call a real engineer.

Inspiring Stories of Engineering Breakthroughs

John Shepherd-Barron was an old-fashioned Scotsman with an inquisitive mind. As the story goes, one day in the mid-1960s, he arrived at the bank a few minutes too late, it was closing for the weekend. He urgently needed cash and pleaded with the branch manager to let him in, but the answer was no. Being an engineer through and through, Shepherd-Barron decided he had to find a way to withdraw money from his account anytime, anywhere. At the time, he was managing director at a company that specialized in printing banknotes — first overseeing printing operations, and later managing armored transport of cash. His next step was to explore the idea of automated cash dispensing. He closed the loop by inventing the ATM. How did he come up with it? “I thought of a vending machine that would dispense money instead of chocolate,” Shepherd-Barron explained.

In 1959, U.S. railroad companies faced a major logistical challenge: they needed to know the location of 1.6 million freight cars each day, but there was no system for automatic tracking. The task caught the attention of engineer David Collins, who worked at Sylvania. As a student, he had interned with the railroad and understood the issue well. Freight cars had serial numbers with color-coded labels, but differences in placement, size, font, and color made automatic reading difficult, especially given the varying designs of the cars and the fact they moved at different speeds. A dynamic scanning system was needed.

Collins took on the project in his spare time and proposed using an optical scanner with white light and reflective codes. Initial attempts were unsuccessful. A colleague suggested rotating the codes vertically, which significantly improved readability. Instead of continuous lighting, Collins designed a scanner with rotating mirrors. He built a test site next to a rail spur wh ere a freight train passed once a day. The result was the KarTrak system, which was later upgraded with laser scanning. By 1967, railroads began adopting the technology, marking the world’s first large-scale method of automatically reading information on moving objects.

Source: G. Madhavan, "Think Like an Engineer: How to Turn Problems into Opportunities"

I always say: we shouldn’t condition young people to think only in terms of “what happens after graduation”, as if that’s the end of the road. In reality, that’s just the beginning. For example, we’re not experiencing a staffing crisis. We get asked about this all the time, especially during public meetings. Technically, I’m supposed to say: yes, there are challenges. But to be honest, our staffing needs are fully covered. The real issue lies elsewhere: a person must find the right outlet for their knowledge. They have to find themselves. And that’s wh ere the true strength of a university education lies — in providing a holistic foundation.

I want to take a moment to express my deep gratitude to the faculty at TSU. My sincere respect to all those who resisted questionable reforms and preserved what matters most: the foundation of education, its depth and methodology. TSU didn’t cut classroom hours, didn’t water down the curriculum, didn’t go down the path of destruction. And that is what makes it truly unique.

Although we’re talking about the exact sciences, it’s important that they don’t become an abstract “set of formulas.” We don’t need someone who can multiply large numbers in their head or manipulate matrices. That’s great, of course, but it’s not enough. What we need is a specialist who understands the essence of the problem at hand and can apply exact science to real-world challenges. That is, in situations wh ere there is no template, only a challenge. Wh ere the stakes are quality, efficiency, safety and ultimately, the success of the entire system.

E.G.:
— I’d like to take a moment here to clarify something, perhaps for high school students or for department heads within our university. I believe something very important is happening at the university right now.

What exactly? When someone spends a significant amount of time studying mathematics and physics not just applied engineering in its traditional sense (modeling, design, construction) they’re not just solving practical tasks. They’re working with ideal objects. And this, in my view, creates a fundamental shift.

When this kind of work is done over long periods, in large volumes, on complex, multi-dimensional constructs nested within each other, it begins to form a unique type of thinking. It doesn’t develop overnight, it takes years, and it only happens through this kind of intellectual effort.

Then something very interesting happens. Once a person has developed this cognitive framework, they can take on any new task, even one they’ve never encountered before, and solve it incredibly fast. That, I believe, is the key.

And I think, Ivan Ivanovich, you can confirm this. Because when graduates with that kind of preparation come to your production floor, they master the integration of five-axis CNC milling systems in a month or two. These are the same kinds of problems that graduates fr om specialized technical institutes may spend two years trying to solve—and still not succeed.

I.P.: That’s exactly the point. When we talk about manufacturing, the most important factor for us is finding the shortest distance between two points. And not just in terms of geometry, but in the multi-dimensional space of the task. What does that mean for us? In business terms, it’s a question of cost.

We don’t receive a single ruble of government funding, we operate entirely on our own budget. And we take that very seriously. So, the shortest distance, in our case, is the time it takes to machine a part. That directly translates into money. We don’t see money as the meaning of life, of course not. But we are required to think in those terms.

So, when a specialist — like a graduate fr om your university — comes to the production floor, they immediately (and I mean immediately, in the face of massive data sets, complex geometric modeling, and enormous volumes of information) find the optimal, most direct solution.

And that means minimal machining time. It means minimal costs. As we say at the plant: “the least amount of chips.” And if you translate that into financial terms, it means the part ends up costing half as much to produce as it would if made by a specialist trained through the traditional engineering route.

E.G.: The research component is now integrated into every educational track at the university. Yes, perhaps only 5% of students will go into actual scientific research. But that’s not the point. What matters most is learning to apply research-based thinking in any professional field. That means being able to ask questions, to doubt the obvious, to see alternative solutions, and to grow not only your project, but yourself within it.

When a person thinks this way, they don’t just change their behavior, they change the entire system of action. Which means greater efficiency, added value, and ultimately, profit for the organization. Ivan Ivanovich, from a practical standpoint, what do you think are the three most essential qualities for an engineer today?

I.P.: We’ve developed a very tight-knit system of communication, especially with young specialists. I’m not exactly young anymore myself, of course, but I’m in constant contact with them. And really, it all comes down to a few simple things.

First, don’t be afraid to make decisions and don’t be afraid to make mistakes. I give everyone freedom, because without it, no engineering task will succeed. During the design stage, we don’t even count the money. Why? Because fear of cost paralyzes the mind. A person becomes hesitant, afraid to take action, loses initiative. But our challenges are complex, full of unknowns, and tackled by large engineering teams. You can’t survive in that environment without freedom.

Second, a solid foundation of knowledge. Without it, nothing works. Take Ohm’s Law, for example, it seems like something you learn once and forget. But we deal with it every single day.

Third, work ethic. Our team works twelve-hour days. No one forces them to, but no one slacks off, either. That said, I strictly forbid staying after 6:00 p.m., because people need to rest. But during the workday, everyone gives it their all.

And of course, honesty and integrity. If a person has knowledge, works hard, and is honest, they will grow. Maybe not into a Korolev or a Glushko, but into a trustworthy, responsible, and reliable specialist. And believe me — that’s an enormous asset.

E.G.: When we speak with employers about our graduates, what we hear most often isn’t about their diplomas, it’s about their personal qualities. They mention high levels of culture, responsibility, and internal discipline. They say: “Your people are so decent, they don’t demand, they don’t bargain, they don’t set conditions. They just show up and get the job done — calmly, professionally, and with quality.” And I believe this is directly related to how education is structured at a classical university. It instills the capacity for sustained effort. And that’s not an easy path. Preparing for complex types of work isn’t about fun or comfort. It’s about endurance. About the ability to invest: in meaning, in the task, and in yourself.

I remember once walking through the university grove in winter. The sun was out, fresh snow, complete silence. Three students were walking ahead of me. One said, “God, it’s so beautiful.” The other sighed, “Give me strength not to turn around and go home, but to make it to lecture...” And yet she kept walking. They all did. That, too, is university, when even in a state of fatigue or near surrender, a person keeps going. Because they understand why they’re going. University teaches more than knowledge. It teaches effort and that, as we’re coming to understand more and more, is a key competitive advantage.

Yes, we’re proud of our academic depth, our research environment, our intellectual rigor. But I’ll admit honestly: practical orientation and responsiveness to labor market demands — that’s still an area for growth. That’s why this conversation with you, Ivan Ivanovich, has been so important to me. It confirms that when academic rigor is properly integrated with practice, it doesn’t get in the way, it makes a person more competitive. Especially in environments wh ere standard solutions don’t apply.

So let me ask fr om an employer’s perspective: what do you think needs to be changed or strengthened in education to prepare students even more effectively for these kinds of challenges?

I.P.: There’s no need to touch the foundation. In my view, your university ranks well above an “A” if we’re using the classic scale. But what I would add is a stronger emphasis on preparing graduates to understand that all doors are open to them after graduation, and that they shouldn’t be afraid to walk through them.

I would also strengthen the component of engineering thinking. Not in the sense of “everyone should go work at a factory” or “everyone should join a design bureau.” It’s not about wh ere you work, it’s about how you think. It’s this kind of engineering mindset — the ability to see systems, ask the right questions, and navigate uncertainty — that gives a person the freedom to work anywhere. Even in a bank.

We all understand that the era when programmers were at the peak of the market has passed. Today, the winner isn’t the one who simply knows a coding language, it’s the one who can solve problems, in any domain. That’s why an applied focus is so important. And that, I think, is what’s still missing. When a young person enrolls in physics or math, they shouldn’t assume that their only future is in teaching. I often meet with recent graduates during interviews, and I try to speak with each one personally.

One example really stuck with me. A young woman came in, a TSU graduate, physics and math major. She’d spent nine years teaching math in school. She said: “I want to change careers. I can’t keep working in a school.” I asked, “Are you looking for a different school here in Tomsk? Or maybe another city?” And she replied, “No. I want to try working in industry. I don’t even know what that means. For me, ‘factory’ is just a five-letter word. But I’m going. Even if you don’t hire me, I’ll go somewhere else, but not back to the classroom.”

And I could see that she wasn’t saying this because teaching is a bad profession. It was because she had made a deliberate choice. And today, we absolutely treasure her. Her thinking is exceptionally structured, precise and analytical. Everything is clear, everything has its place. Our current task is to give her managerial tools, so she can not only solve problems, but also lead others in solving them.

That’s what I mean when I say: the challenge is to combine what usually doesn’t go together. It’s rare to find someone who possesses both deep expertise and the ability to manage. But if university education can help students gain a clear understanding of their profession — whatever that may be — they will graduate with a completely different outlook.

An engineer, as I understand it, is not someone chained to a blueprint or a shop floor. It’s someone who can work anywhere, because they understand how the world works.

“Engineers ‘see’ structure wh ere none appears to exist. Our world—fr om haiku to skyscrapers—is built on structure. Engineering thinking gravitates toward the part of the iceberg that lies beneath the surface, not above it. What’s visible matters, but so does what’s hidden.”
Fr om G. Madhavan’s book Think Like an Engineer: How to Turn Problems into Opportunities

I.P.: According to one study conducted by one of our partner organizations, your graduates outperformed engineers from previous generations by a mile across several key indicators, especially in terms of real-world validation and testing. I can’t disclose the source, but that was the moment I became absolutely convinced: Eduard Vladimirovich, we are moving in the right direction.

That said, our goal isn’t to convince students that they must work at a factory. Rather, we should be preparing them to become Tomsk’s “soft power.” Wherever they go — whether into government, science, business, or medicine — with their university training and academic foundation, they’ll be able to work in any field. That’s why I’m convinced: we need to expand how students see the potential applications of the education they receive at university.

And if that happens, if a graduate leaves the university with a true understanding of this resource, they’ll say: “Yes, we were trained properly, and at one of the best universities.” And I say this without exaggeration: I put TSU on par with Moscow State University and the Moscow Institute of Physics and Technology. That’s not just lip service, I mean it!

E.G.: Thank you for such high praise, Ivan Ivanovich! And I want to take this opportunity to speak directly to our deans and department chairs. Colleagues, I believe we’re at a turning point, a moment when we need to seriously reflect on one thing. At the university, we’re actively discussing the idea of a new fundamental core — the academic foundation upon which everything else is built.

In a world wh ere the volume of knowledge is growing at an exponential rate, the question of selecting the essential components of foundational education is no longer theoretical. It’s a practical, pragmatic issue: What should we be teaching first and foremost in order to serve our students’ futures?

At the same time, I’m convinced: we must expand students’ access to industrial platforms and the labor market. This is not just an optional extra, it’s a critical part of their educational trajectory.

One example that comes to mind is Irina Shraiber, a leading researcher at CERN in Switzerland. She splits her time between there and here in Tomsk. Her team is involved in a major project focused on data processing for the Large Hadron Collider. It’s a colossal challenge — highly theoretical, yet also deeply applied. We're talking about billions of unstructured data points that need to be processed and systematized. The task is to uncover hidden patterns using the most advanced mathematical models.

We’ve often asked ourselves: Who is capable of doing that kind of work? The answer: only a few. Out of 30 students, maybe 1 or 2 will reach that level. But what happens to the other 28? They’re snatched up by industry. Because their ability to work with big data, AI, and complex modeling is higher than that of many narrowly trained specialists.

A strong academic foundation builds a different kind of thinking, one that’s already essential in today’s industrial environment. But to reach that level, students must go through a long journey, through mega-projects like CERN, for example. And perhaps it’s our role as a university to help students see that path as early as possible. So that every student understands: the knowledge they’re acquiring carries real power and value.

That’s why partners like Ivan Ivanovich are so critically important to us. They give students a living connection, a message that says: you can be a PhD holder, a scientist, and at the same time a highly sought-after engineer in a high-tech company. And we’re no longer talking about a “factory” in the old sense. This is a world-class enterprise. With clean, modern facilities, digital machining equipment, and systems engineering. With intellectual challenges on par with aerospace programs.

I.P.: Let me give you an example of one of the challenges we’re currently working on. Believe me, we’ve seen a lot, but this case is truly exceptional. It involves offshore gas extraction at a depth of 300 meters. Simply put, we need to design a sealing component in the shape of a ball with a nominal diameter of 800 mm that can reliably open, close, and lock gas flow at depths of up to 300 meters. In technical terms, this component has to function stably under pressure of up to 10 megapascals, or 100 bar. That’s an enormous load.

And in this case, neither knowledge alone nor existing technologies guarantee success. This isn’t a problem you can solve head-on, it requires a fusion of engineering thinking, scientific understanding, and research intuition.

Just three days ago, a young PhD graduate fr om TSU came to me and said, “I want to try working with you.” His background? Biomedical materials science. At first glance, it seemed completely unrelated to our field. I was honest with him: “We work with metals, with harsh environments. Shape-memory materials aren’t really our thing.” But he proposed specific experimental conditions. So, we decided to try developing a super duplex steel with him, a material resistant to aggressive environments, nearly immune to acids and alkalis, and able to withstand fluctuating temperatures and mechanical stress.

This requires not just knowledge, but engineering instinct and scientific depth. That’s a completely different level. And we realized right away who we were dealing with, there are only a handful of such specialists in the country.

But sometimes, it’s not about inventing something new, it’s about implementation. For instance, we’ve developed a high-molecular-weight polyethylene. We use it in seals for aviation, special shipbuilding, and the defense industry. But we still haven’t found broad domestic application for it. In such cases, you either solve the problem, or you fall out of the market.

Now, I have mixed feelings about the word “market.” On the one hand, I’m critical of it. On the other, I understand it. Because like it or not, if you’re not generating revenue, you don’t exist. And if anyone can do what you do, then you’re not needed. You have to be capable of doing what no one else can. And ideally — you have to be first. Maybe tomorrow the Americans will catch up. But today they haven’t. That’s your opportunity.

And these are the kinds of challenges we face every day. And we’re just a regular machine-building plant! The only difference is — we’re based in Tomsk. And that gives us a unique advantage. Because right next to us is Tomsk State University, and together we’ve built one of the strongest science-and-education clusters in the country. That’s our shared asset. That’s our strength.

E.G.: I think it’s important to say a few words about why all of this is even possible. We are living in the age of the knowledge economy. Today, the stability and development of a state are no longer defined solely by its resources, but by its ability to rapidly convert knowledge into technologies and products. And that is the core mission of a research university—where science isn’t a parallel activity, but is embedded in the very fabric of the educational process. Such universities don’t just graduate specialists, they graduate people who bring new knowledge into industry.

That’s exactly how enterprises like yours, Ivan Ivanovich, come into being, companies that create world-class technologies and drive economic progress.

Today, there is a global race for such universities. China is investing massively in building next-generation institutions. In Russia, we have the Priority 2030 program. We submitted our project proposal, and out of 119 selected universities, only 11 were chosen for the top tier. TSU is among the top five, alongside MIPT, Bauman Moscow State Technical University, and the Higher School of Economics. It’s a tremendous honor, but also a great responsibility. Because we understand that we are in the thick of global competition. And in this race, the winner is the one who can build long educational trajectories, starting not at the university level, but much earlier.

We know that without strong math and physics training in school, it’s impossible to reach serious engineering problems in college. Unfortunately, the current focus on standardized testing doesn’t always foster the kind of deep thinking that’s required. We see it. We know it. That’s why we’re developing online tools like PLARIO, with adaptive algorithms for restoring math fundamentals. We’re working with schools. We’re making videos to show how the university is getting involved in school life.

But here’s what’s really interesting: more and more students want to try on engineering, science, and complex challenges for themselves. And in that sense, your perspective, Ivan Ivanovich, as an employer and someone from the real economy, is especially valuable. So, let me ask: how important do you think it is for the university to engage directly with schools?

I.P.: Without a doubt, working with schools is a critical issue for us. We’ve had long-standing, close relationships with many local schools—I personally know almost all the principals. And I always tell them the same thing: don’t touch the math. Don’t cut hours for the hard sciences. It doesn’t matter which subject exactly; what matters is that there’s a solid foundation. Because that is wh ere engineers begin.

Fr om our side, we’ve always been willing to make time, even during the school week, for students to visit the plant for a couple of hours, just to observe, to explore career options. But unfortunately, Russian legislation doesn’t allow minors to be present in a working industrial environment. We simply cannot invite them into our operational space.

In the summer, yes, there are no issues. Every year we hire hundreds of teenagers. It’s official employment with parental consent. And everyone gets paid, no one works for free. But during the school year, it becomes more complicated. You need formal approval from the relevant department, and to be honest, many school principals are simply afraid — of the paperwork, of the liability.

But your university has open doors for school students year-round. And that could be a powerful point of connection. That’s why we invite students who are serious about math and physics not just to “take a look,” but to take part in a real internship. Of course, this isn’t the kind of simple mechanical work I did as a student when I helped out at the factory turning parts. Things are on a completely different level now, especially during summer programs.

Still, if we’re talking about something that could take place during the school year, we’re ready for that too. We have all the infrastructure, including three dedicated training classrooms. So here’s an idea: what if, throughout the academic year, and only if it doesn’t create an extra burden, your students and school students could come to us together? Just to immerse themselves in the technological environment, to see how a modern engineering company operates, to observe a real system in motion.

I believe that’s incredibly important. Because when you see a living, high-tech environment, you begin to form a concrete image of your future profession, not something abstract, but something real. And that can be truly inspiring.

If I may, I’d like to return once more to the image of the true engineer. For me, it’s Sergei Pavlovich Korolev, the man who founded our aerospace industry. Sometimes I just sit and wonder: How did they do it? Today we have everything — supercomputers, advanced machinery, materials. But back then? They had abacuses, mechanical calculators... And yet they moved forward, they created.

Technology has come a long way since then, but one thing hasn’t changed: it all depends on people — on specialists, on young, talented, and thoughtful individuals. Like the ones who study at your university. That’s not flattery, it’s the strength of the nation. Because it’s graduates like yours who enter the country’s economy and bring with them new technologies, a culture of thinking, a systems-based mindset that, thank God, TSU has preserved.

Sometimes we look around worried at what’s happening elsewhere. Some places have lost entire departments of mechanical engineering. In others, the critical link between types of knowledge, the very link without which engineering is impossible, has been broken. And that’s exactly why a new national project has been launched in Russia focused on machine tool and mechanical engineering. The state has finally recognized the priority of industrial development and begun to invest. That’s a strategic investment.

And this conversation we’re having today, it’s part of that process, too.

E.G.: Our partnership and collaboration, Ivan Ivanovich, has once again confirmed that a true research university is meant to provide one of the most important foundations in a person’s development: their professional education and the formation of complex thinking. And this applies not only to technical education, but to all fields of study. Of course, disciplines like mathematics, physics, and chemistry are most directly associated with this kind of thinking, since they involve working with complex, multidimensional, ideal constructs. But complex thinking can also be cultivated through history or even music.

Composer Johann Sebastian Bach has a fascinating piece known as a musical palindrome, in which one melodic line is played forward and the other in reverse, yet together they form a harmonious, polyphonic whole. I believe it’s called the Crab Canon. It’s a brilliant example of Bach’s polyphonic mastery and his extraordinarily intricate — one could say mathematical — mind.

As a research university, we understand the importance, the challenge, and the depth of working with such ideal structures. This work begins, first and foremost, through higher mathematics. That’s why math is part of the core curriculum across so many educational tracks at the university. We must maintain a high level of mathematical training for our students, and that preparation has to begin in school. Otherwise, even if a student manages to pass the Unified State Exam (EGE) in math, university-level learning will be a serious challenge.

Today, our average entrance score is 80, and sometimes even higher. Sadly, many high school graduates have only a weak grasp of mathematics, which forces us to offer leveling courses in their first year — not just in math, but also in physics — so they can eventually work with complex ideal models and systems.

I want to again address our deans and department chairs: it’s our responsibility to explain to students early on the opportunities that come with mastering these subjects and skills. They need to understand why they are studying these things. We have to motivate them, so they have the emotional and physical resilience to sustain the effort. And for that, we must work with outstanding partners like Ivan Ivanovich Pushkaryov.

But to be truly successful, we need to rethink our career guidance efforts, revise our curricula, and, quite simply, go into the schools.

We need to work with high schoolers more actively and more wisely—so that they are not afraid to continue learning, but also understand that university isn’t just a smooth transition into adulthood. What awaits them is real work: intellectually demanding, physically demanding, but surrounded by remarkable people and mentors who will give not only their time, but their experience and life energy.

And that is the true strength of a university: it’s one of the few places wh ere one exceptional person can help shape another. Universities are places wh ere exceptional people come together, like Ivan Pushkaryov. I want to thank him for his partnership, his support, and the work we’ve done together.

Today’s conversation isn’t just mutual admiration, it’s the realization of ideas we discussed during our flights together. It’s the substance of our conversations in neighboring seats on airplanes. Through the story of one cutting-edge industrial enterprise, it becomes clear what the entire Russian industrial sector needs, especially within the framework of national development projects. Everything Ivan Pushkaryov said today is relevant to our entire country. And fr om that perspective, university education is the foundation on which Russia’s competitiveness and technological sovereignty is built.

In closing, I want to speak directly to the young people who are thinking about applying to university. A university is a special place. Think about this: in our culture, universities are a unique environment wh ere the most talented and capable young people come to become who they were meant to be.

Of course, you could pass up that opportunity. But society is giving you a chance: it sets aside time for you to study, grants you student status, pays you a scholarship, and gives you access to real experts in their fields.

Don’t be afraid to aspire to be the best in your profession. If you want to become engineers, you now also have the opportunity to become recipients of the Ivan Pushkaryov Scholarship, created through his personal contribution to the TSU Endowment Fund to support top-performing students. Come join us, we are waiting for you. We need you.

And to our graduates who are receiving their TSU diplomas this year, I wish you a job that you’ll never grow tired of, one that gives you new challenges every day. Don’t fear hard decisions, those are the ones that bring the greatest rewards.

To all of you: choose wisely, and good luck!

Eduard Galazhinsky

Rector of Tomsk State University
Member of the Presidential Council for Science and Education
Vice President of the Russian Academy of Education
Vice President of the Russian Union of Rectors

Interview recorded and supporting materials prepared by
Irina Kuzheleva-Sagan