My personal observations I was born and raised in Vorkuta, a small town of coal miners in the north of Russia, and I witnessed two instances of locals reaching out to Putin. The first time was in 2005, when I finished my third year at the university. I recall the excitement when the news spread that journalists were coming to our town with their expensive equipment to allow people to ask questions. Vorkuta buzzed with rumors. Firstly, people discussed the questions they would personally ask. Some were quite direct and even harsh in their wording. However, the majority believed that such questions would simply not be permitted. Secondly, while nobody knew who would be selected for the live broadcast, many held hopes of being chosen. The reality turned out to be much different from our expectations. A few days before the ‘Direct Line’, Moscow journalists arrived in Vorkuta, selected a few potentially interesting questions, which were eventually approved by the Kremlin. Then, the journalists chose people for the extras and three individuals to ask questions. They were invited to the town center, where the broadcast setup was already in place. Only vetted individuals were allowed into this area. The police prevented local human rights activists, who attempted to break into the broadcast, from entering. An hour before the live event, the journalists revealed the questions approved by the Kremlin. Eventually, Vorkuta residents asked about the development of the coal mining industry, financial support for relocation from the north of Russia to its central part, and the possible closure of the only institute in the town. Putin responded assertively, stating that the government would support the miners, provide financial aid to migrants, and the institute would remain open. Indeed, it continued operating for more than 10 years after that. When I watched the live broadcast from Vorkuta on TV, two thoughts occupied my mind throughout. Firstly, the issues highlighted by the locals were not the most critical for the town. Secondly, both the questions from Vorkuta's residents and Putin's responses lacked vitality; it seemed like everyone involved was playing a role, and the acting was subpar. I began paying closer attention to the ‘Direct Line' a few years ago when my sister sent a written message to Putin several days before the broadcast. She complained about the road in front of our house remaining uncleared from snow for weeks. As expected, her question didn't make it to the broadcast, but the outcomes of her actions were surprisingly swift. The vicinity of our house was cleared of snow the next day, and my sister received a call from a high-ranking official from the mayor's office. At first, the official was extremely polite, and my sister explained her position to him. After hearing her out, however, the man adopted an offended tone, exclaiming, "But why on Earth did you complain directly to the President? Why didn't you contact us? Do you know what kind of trouble we found ourselves in yesterday?" My sister politely explained that she had been bringing attention to the issue for several days, both orally and in writing, but none of the officials had responded. It took her complaint to Putin to spur any action. At that moment, my sister realized that in Russia, almost no political institution works except for the presidency. Even for a seemingly simple problem like clearing snow, one needs to complain to the President to be heard. | 
