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The Ukrainian Work Ethic: Between Soviet Legacies and Modern Aspirations

  • Writer: Matthew Parish
    Matthew Parish
  • Sep 28
  • 6 min read
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The habits, values and structures that govern how Ukrainians approach their work are deeply entwined with the nation’s turbulent history. Ukraine’s working culture has been shaped by centuries of foreign domination, decades under Soviet rule, and three decades of independence marked by both economic hardship and extraordinary resilience. To understand the Ukrainian work ethic today, one must grasp how Soviet legacies still linger, how they are being challenged by modern reforms, how Ukraine compares with her post-Soviet neighbours, and how much older cultural traditions still echo in the present.


Soviet Structures and Their Shadows


During the Soviet period Ukraine was industrialised heavily, with her eastern regions in particular turned into centres of coal, steel, and heavy machinery. Soviet workplace structures were rigid and hierarchical. Labour was collectivised in both agriculture and industry, and employment was guaranteed but rarely efficient. Wages were often disconnected from productivity; advancement depended more upon loyalty to the Party and connections within bureaucratic networks than upon initiative or merit.


This system discouraged individual responsibility and innovation, producing what many sociologists have described as a culture of “working to the plan.” A worker’s priority was not necessarily to improve processes or quality but to fulfil quotas—sometimes through creative accounting or cutting corners. Initiative could even be punished, for it risked exposing the failures of the system. At the same time, Ukrainians developed informal systems to cope: barter networks, side jobs, and reliance upon personal connections (blat) to access goods and opportunities unavailable through official channels.


The collapse of the Soviet Union left behind both the administrative machinery and the cultural habits of this system. Many Ukrainians still harbour a scepticism towards formal institutions, preferring to rely upon family, friends and informal arrangements. For some, the legacy of bureaucratic inertia and corruption has still shaped how work is managed in government and large enterprises.


Adaptation in Independence


Independence in 1991 forced Ukrainians to confront a radically different world. The sudden disappearance of Soviet subsidies, the collapse of state-owned industries, and the shock of hyperinflation left millions unemployed or underemployed. Out of necessity, Ukrainians became resourceful. The 1990s saw the rise of a large informal economy, street trading, private agriculture, and small-scale entrepreneurship.


This survivalist period fostered a new kind of work ethic: adaptability, persistence, and the ability to make do with limited resources. It also deepened a cynicism about the state’s capacity to provide stability. Trust was relocated to the family unit and local networks, while entrepreneurial initiative became a tool of survival rather than a celebrated national value.


Over time however, as Ukraine integrated more with Western markets, new structures emerged. Private firms, particularly in sectors like IT, finance, and services, began adopting international models of corporate governance. Young Ukrainians, especially in urban centres, grew accustomed to Western standards of performance, teamwork and meritocracy. Outsourcing contracts and integration with European supply chains helped instil more predictable, performance-oriented practices, while the tradition of adaptability remained as a cultural strength.


The Informal and the Formal


One of the most striking features of Ukraine’s working structures is the coexistence of the formal and informal. On the one hand, Ukraine boasts a rapidly expanding IT sector, praised globally for its competitiveness and professionalism, where firms often resemble Silicon Valley start-ups in ethos. On the other hand, a significant proportion of the economy still operates informally, with cash-in-hand wages, undeclared businesses, and semi-legal arrangements to avoid taxation.


This duality reflects both a mistrust of the state and a pragmatic instinct. In some sense, it is an echo of the Soviet era’s “second economy”, although now it is less about survival and more about flexibility. Many Ukrainians hold multiple jobs—one official and one unofficial—or engage in side hustles, a continuation of the resourcefulness ingrained during times of scarcity.


War and Work Ethic


The Russian invasions of 2014 and 2022 have profoundly tested and reshaped Ukrainian working life. Millions were displaced, industries destroyed, and cities bombarded. Yet Ukrainians demonstrated remarkable resilience. Civilian volunteers organised logistics, food distribution and medical supplies at a pace that astonished observers. The war effort created a new dimension of the work ethic: patriotism fused with obligation.


Across the country factories shifted production to drones, uniforms and military equipment. The IT sector turned its skills towards cyber defence and battlefield applications. Even in the midst of power outages, Ukrainians continued to work remotely, often from basements, illustrating a remarkable determination to sustain both livelihoods and national defence. Work in wartime became not only a means of survival but also a moral contribution to collective resistance.


Comparisons with Other Post-Soviet States


The legacy of the Soviet Union touches every former republic, yet each has responded differently, shaped by national histories, political trajectories, and external influences.


  • Russia: In Russia, the Soviet-style vertical hierarchy remained entrenched for far longer. Large state enterprises continued to dominate, often backed by oligarchic structures that replaced Communist Party patronage with political loyalty to the Kremlin. Innovation is still constrained by centralisation, and corruption remains systemic. Whereas Ukraine’s war effort has galvanised grassroots organisation and improvisation, Russia’s work culture remains more top-down, with the state orchestrating mobilisation and production. This difference underscores the contrasting paths of civic participation in the two countries.


  • Baltic States: Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania represent the opposite trajectory. These nations embraced rapid Westernisation after independence, dismantling Soviet structures with striking decisiveness. Estonia in particular pioneered digital governance and fostered a tech-driven, efficiency-oriented culture. The Baltic work ethic is marked by transparency, formality and strong adherence to European norms. Ukraine has made similar strides in IT and governance, but her reforms have been slower, and her informal economy remains larger. Nevertheless the Ukrainian capacity for resilience and improvisation, honed by crisis, may offer an advantage in flexibility compared to her Baltic neighbours.


  • Central Asia: In states such as Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan, the Soviet legacy of authoritarian centralisation has remained dominant. Patronage networks replaced Soviet bureaucrats, and economies stayed heavily dependent upon natural resources. Here, initiative and innovation are often stifled by political control. Ukraine, by contrast, while suffering from corruption, has nurtured a far livelier civil society and entrepreneurial culture. The difference lies partly in Ukraine’s European orientation, which has provided an alternative model; and partly in the crucible of war, which has forced citizens to take initiative.


In this comparative light, Ukraine emerges as a hybrid. She retains elements of Soviet informality but has shown a unique capacity to blend them with Western practices and democratic civic energy. This mixture produces a culture that may be less orderly than the Baltic model, yet more dynamic and adaptable in times of crisis.


Deep Roots: Pre-Soviet Traditions


While Soviet legacies loom large, Ukraine’s work ethic also draws upon older cultural traditions. These pre-Soviet layers reveal that resourcefulness and self-organisation long preceded twentieth-century upheavals.


  • Cossack traditions: The Zaporozhian Cossacks, who established semi-autonomous communities on the Dnipro steppe from the sixteenth century, valued freedom, collective decision-making and self-reliance. Their “sich” communities were structured around mutual responsibility and adaptability to hardship. Elements of this ethos—resistance to imposed authority and pride in self-organisation—still colour Ukrainian attitudes to work and governance.


  • Peasant resilience: For centuries, Ukrainian peasants endured serfdom, foreign landlords and repeated famines. Survival depended upon hard work in agriculture, but also upon communal solidarity and mutual aid. The trauma of the Holodomor in the 1930s seared into collective memory the need to be resourceful and to distrust distant state authorities. This explains why many Ukrainians still see family and community, rather than bureaucracy, as the true bedrock of economic life.


  • Austro-Hungarian Galicia: In western Ukraine, especially in Lviv and surrounding regions, the experience of Habsburg rule left different cultural traces. Under the Austro-Hungarian monarchy, local Ukrainians experienced exposure to Central European legal systems, cooperatives and educational institutions. A tradition of associational life—credit unions, cooperatives and cultural societies—took root. This produced habits of civic organisation and institutional participation that survive to this day, and which contrast with the more Soviet-shaped east.


These deeper traditions provide a cultural substructure beneath the Soviet and post-Soviet layers. They explain why Ukrainians, though scarred by imposed systems, have repeatedly demonstrated resilience, self-organisation, and a fierce commitment to autonomy in their working lives.


Looking Forward


The Ukrainian work ethic is thus a complex synthesis of inherited structures and deep cultural currents. From the Soviet era remains a cautionary distrust of institutions and a tendency to rely upon networks rather than hierarchies. From the hardships of independence arose adaptability and resilience. From integration with the West has come a new generation committed to efficiency, transparency, and merit. From the war has emerged a patriotic sense of purpose in labour itself. And from centuries past remain Cossack self-organisation, peasant resilience, and Galician civic traditions.


If Ukraine is to secure her long-term economic future, she must continue to dismantle the vestiges of Soviet bureaucracy and corruption while preserving the resilience and resourcefulness that have carried her through crisis. The challenge lies in fusing Western organisational models with Ukrainian cultural strengths, so that innovation is rewarded, effort is fairly compensated, and institutions become worthy of the trust of the people.


The Ukrainian work ethic has survived empire, famine, collapse, and war. It is no longer defined solely by survival or the dead weight of Soviet habits. It is being reshaped into something far more modern, outward-looking, and constructive: a spirit of labour that sees in work not only personal gain but also national renewal.

 
 

Note from Matthew Parish, Editor-in-Chief. The Lviv Herald is a unique and independent source of analytical journalism about the war in Ukraine and its aftermath, and all the geopolitical and diplomatic consequences of the war as well as the tremendous advances in military technology the war has yielded. To achieve this independence, we rely exclusively on donations. Please donate if you can, either with the buttons at the top of this page or become a subscriber via www.patreon.com/lvivherald.

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