Russia's deteriorating navy
- Matthew Parish
- 2 minutes ago
- 4 min read

Russia’s naval fleet has long occupied a central place in her strategic imagination. From the tsarist pursuit of warm water ports to the Soviet ambition of global maritime parity with the United States, the Russian Navy has been conceived not merely as a military instrument but as a symbol of great power status. Yet behind ceremonial launches, choreographed exercises and rhetorical invocations of naval revival, the material condition of Russia’s nuclear and non-nuclear fleet has been steadily deteriorating. The war against Ukraine has accelerated trends that were already evident: ageing hulls, unreliable propulsion systems, constrained industrial capacity and a widening gap between declared ambition and operational reality.
At the heart of Russia’s naval decline lies the legacy of the Soviet fleet. Many of the vessels still in service were designed in the 1970s and 1980s, constructed for a state with vastly greater industrial depth, manpower and access to resources. Post-Soviet Russia inherited this fleet without inheriting the economic or organisational capacity required to maintain it. Chronic underinvestment throughout the 1990s produced a backlog of deferred maintenance that has never been fully addressed. As a result corrosion, metal fatigue and outdated systems are endemic across both surface vessels and submarines, regardless of whether they are nuclear powered or conventionally fuelled.
Russia’s nuclear submarine force is often presented as the most resilient element of her navy, shielded by strategic necessity from budgetary neglect. It is true that ballistic missile submarines, which underpin Russia’s sea-based nuclear deterrent, continue to receive priority funding. New Borei class submarines have entered service and, on paper, represent a generational improvement over their Soviet predecessors. Yet even here, signs of strain are apparent. Construction timelines are protracted, refits take far longer than planned and the supporting infrastructure, particularly shipyards and reactor servicing facilities, remains overstretched. Nuclear propulsion demands exacting standards of engineering and maintenance. In an environment marked by skilled labour shortages, sanctions-induced supply constraints and institutional corruption, sustaining those standards becomes increasingly difficult.
The situation is more acute within Russia’s attack submarine fleet. Many older nuclear powered attack submarines remain in service beyond their intended operational lifespan, not because they are reliable but because replacements are slow to arrive. Reports of extended dockyard periods, cancelled patrols and reactors requiring repeated attention point to a force that is technically afloat but operationally brittle. Even when these submarines put to sea, questions persist about their acoustic performance, sensor reliability and crew readiness. A submarine that cannot safely deploy or remain undetected offers only limited strategic value.
Russia’s surface fleet presents an even starker picture of decline. The loss of the missile cruiser Moskva in 2022 was not merely a tactical setback but a symbolic exposure of systemic weaknesses. That a flagship could be sunk in a contested environment by a country without a conventional navy highlighted deficiencies in air defence integration, damage control training and command culture. Moskva was already an ageing vessel, launched in the Soviet era and only partially modernised. Her fate underscored the risks inherent in operating legacy platforms with limited upgrades in a modern battlespace dominated by precision strike weapons.
Beyond high profile losses, Russia’s surface fleet suffers from chronic reliability problems. Engines and gearboxes sourced from Ukrainian or Western manufacturers prior to 2014 have proven difficult to replace. Domestic substitutes often lack the same durability or efficiency, leading to frequent breakdowns and reduced availability. As a result, many ships spend more time alongside than at sea, eroding crew proficiency and diminishing the navy’s capacity for sustained operations. Exercises continue, but they are often scripted and limited in scope, masking underlying readiness issues rather than resolving them.
Non-nuclear vessels, particularly smaller combatants such as corvettes and patrol ships, have been produced in greater numbers in recent years. These platforms are frequently equipped with long range cruise missiles, allowing Russia to project strike capability from relatively modest hulls. However this approach reflects necessity as much as innovation. Smaller ships are cheaper and faster to build, and they place fewer demands on overstretched shipyards. Yet they also lack endurance, survivability and the ability to operate effectively in high intensity naval warfare. Concentrating offensive firepower on lightly protected platforms may complicate an adversary’s planning, but it does not compensate for the absence of a balanced and resilient fleet.
The industrial foundations of Russia’s navy are themselves a source of vulnerability. Shipbuilding yards face shortages of skilled workers, ageing equipment and limited access to advanced components. Sanctions have disrupted supply chains for electronics, navigation systems and specialised materials. While workarounds exist, they often involve lower quality substitutes or cannibalisation from existing vessels, further degrading the fleet as a whole. Corruption and inefficiency exacerbate these problems, diverting resources away from maintenance and towards prestige projects that prioritise visibility over utility.
The human dimension of naval decline should not be underestimated. Serving aboard ageing and unreliable vessels places considerable strain upon crews. Extended deployments, inadequate living conditions and uncertainty about equipment safety undermine morale and retention. Training suffers when ships are unavailable or when exercises are curtailed due to technical faults. Over time the erosion of professional standards becomes self-reinforcing, as experienced sailors leave and are replaced by less seasoned personnel with fewer opportunities to gain meaningful sea time.
Strategically, the deterioration of Russia’s naval forces constrains her ability to project power beyond her immediate periphery. While submarines still pose a theoretical deterrent, their practical effectiveness is increasingly questioned by Western navies with advanced anti-submarine capabilities. Surface vessels are largely confined to defensive roles within bastion areas or to carefully managed deployments where the risk of confrontation is minimal. The navy remains capable of launching missile strikes and conducting demonstrations, but sustained blue water operations are becoming ever harder to achieve.
In this context, Russia’s naval decline is not simply a matter of ageing ships or technical mishaps. It reflects deeper structural weaknesses within the Russian state: a militarised economy stretched by prolonged war, an industrial base struggling to modernise and a political culture that rewards appearances over performance. The fleet endures, but it does so in a condition that is increasingly fragile, increasingly constrained and increasingly divorced from the ambitions once proclaimed for it. As the gap between rhetoric and reality widens, Russia’s navy risks becoming less an instrument of power and more a testament to the limits of imperial inheritance in the twenty first century.

