Thirteen years after the collapse of the Soviet Union, the Russian Academy of Sciences has so far been unable to reform itself into an organization that can provide the leadership that the nation's scientific community needs.

The academy's recent advice to Russian president Vladimir Putin that the Kyoto Protocol on climate change had “no scientific basis” (see page 12) is just one example of the academy's weakness. The advice didn't reflect the views of climate scientists inside or outside Russia. It is unlikely to have much effect on Putin's final decision on whether to ratify the Kyoto agreement, but it reflects badly on an academy whose centralized decision-making still has a Soviet flavour.

The Russian academy has two main functions, each vital to the country's development: it runs some 450 institutes, employing thousands of scientists, and is supposed to be the main body providing impartial scientific advice to the Russian government.

The academy traditionally comprised the élite of Russia's scientific intelligentsia. But in common with other public-sector enterprises in Russia, it has suffered a dramatic decline in wealth and reputation following the end of communism and the collapse of the Soviet military–industrial complex. Its institutes receive more than half of Russia's meagre public support for research and the great bulk of all money available for basic science. But critics say that it provides a poor return on this investment. Many of its institutes are isolated from Russia's real needs in industry or health, for example. They offer little in terms of technology innovation and are barely involved at all in science education.

A number of the academy's scientists still do good research in fields such as mathematics and some branches of physics, but the academy no longer produces a wide range of internationally competitive science. The most pressing priority for the heads of its institutes is to maintain their physical assets and political influence.

The academy is vital to the future of basic research in Russia. In a country where university-based researchers have little prospect of receiving stable research funds, the academy can still provide a home for the next generation of scientists. In order to do this effectively, it needs to reach out and strengthen its links with universities, industry, government agencies and hospitals. But there are far too many institutes and not enough resources to run them. Reform has been regarded as politically impossible in the past, but is now perilously overdue. An outside review of every institute's research performance, drawing on international expertise, could help determine which institutes are worth investing in.

It is clearly in Russia's interest to allow scientists to work in up-to-date laboratories where academic freedom is respected. The country badly needs strong, self-assured and unbiased institutions, and a renewed and streamlined academy could become one of them. The atmosphere in Russia is not conducive to the development of such institutions, however. The July murder of journalist Paul Klebnikov, editor of the Russian edition of Forbes magazine, after it had published a list of the country's 100 wealthiest individuals, served to reinforce the perception that the political climate in Russia is growing ever more oppressive.

In this context, it is hard to see a way forward for Russian science. Academy researchers and managers must continue to strive as best they can for a better environment, in which their work will be properly supported and their advice garnered fairly, and taken seriously.