Bifurcation point in psychology. Bifurcation point as a moment of truth

Bifurcation point- change of the established operating mode of the system. Term from nonequilibrium thermodynamics and synergetics.

Bifurcation point- a critical state of the system, in which the system becomes unstable with respect to fluctuations and uncertainty arises: whether the state of the system will become chaotic or whether it will move to a new, more differentiated and higher level of order. A term from the theory of self-organization.

Properties of a bifurcation point

1. Unpredictability. Usually the bifurcation point has several attractor branches (stable operating modes), one of which the system will follow. However, it is impossible to predict in advance which new attractor the system will occupy.
2. The bifurcation point is short-term in nature and separates longer stable regimes of the system.
3. The avalanche effect of hash functions involves planned bifurcation points that deliberately introduce unpredictable changes to the final form of the hash string when even a single character in the original string changes.

See also

Write a review about the article "Bifurcation point"

Literature

• // Lebedev S. A. Philosophy of Science: Dictionary of Basic Terms. - M.: Academic Project, 2004. - 320 p. - (Gaudeamus Series).

Excerpt characterizing the Bifurcation Point

Analyzing nonequilibrium systems, synergetics introduces the term: “ bifurcation" This is a point of extreme instability in which the situation can change, as they say, at one moment in any of many possible directions.

“Bifurcation” comes from the Latin “furca” - “ pitchfork" (Everyone also knows the English word fork - fork.) "Bi" means "two" "bifurcation" literally means "forking of the path." But in reality, the choice of options, as a rule, is not limited to two possibilities; the number of possible directions opening at the bifurcation point can be simply enormous.

An open system in a state of bifurcation is reminiscent of Vasnetsov’s “The Knight at the Crossroads,” and possible development scenarios after choosing a path at a turning point, bifurcation moment can unfold here no less dramatically. Each of us found ourselves at such a “point” at least once in our lives, when events developed in the most unpredictable way, experiencing the pressure of many different possibilities. For example, a manager who begins a reorganization is forced to find himself at a bifurcation point. A mass of probable opportunities lie in wait for him on a difficult path, his actions are risky, and events unfold unpredictably. Accidents often accompany him not because he is a bad forecaster - all because this is the very essence of the complex and nonlinear world in which we live, in which the likelihood of even unlikely events occurring increases.

The most important ideological conclusion of synergetics is that although there may be a lot of possible paths of development (after passing the bifurcation point), their number is not infinite. Not every path to the future is possible in this open environment. Which paths are generally possible and feasible is determined by the intrinsic properties of a given environment. The environment itself, in the case of social management - society, imposes restrictions on the feasibility and effectiveness of behavioral acts and control influences in it.

6.4. Chance, courage, risk.

A true leader is characterized by such qualities as determination, determination to achieve a set goal and... the ability to take risks.

What is risk? This is an accident that acquires a certain meaning for a person. This can be a positive accident (fortune, luck, lucky break) or a negative accident (failure, disaster, collapse of plans).

“He who doesn’t take risks doesn’t drink champagne,” says the saying. And this is not the idle invention of frivolous rakes. The head of an organization that finds itself at a bifurcation point seems to be challenging fate, challenging the uncertainty surrounding him!

However, there is a type of executive, most of whom have master's degrees in business management, as Lee Iacocca notes, who are wary of making risky decisions. Such managers, having 95 percent of the necessary information, try to bring it to 100 percent, but during this time the situation changes radically, and decisions not made turn into losses, an unresolved problem. Many of these people believe, says Iacocca, that every economic problem can be structured and reduced to the analysis of a typical economic situation. This may be correct in the classroom at an educational institution, but in a business environment, in management practice, it is necessary to show courage and be able to take risks.

However, you should be aware of the permissible reasonable limits of risk. A risk with a probability of losing more than 50 percent, the same Iacocca teaches, cannot be called reasonable. “It’s impossible to quantify it,” says Iacocca, “but it’s clear,” he continues, “that when you decide to act with only 50 percent of the facts, it’s clearly not enough! If this is the case, then you must be very lucky, otherwise you will suffer huge losses.”

Even the degree of risk of the actions of famous commanders in battles did not exceed the degree of their caution, thoughtfulness and prudence.

“In the best operations of Napoleon himself,” says, for example, B.M. Teplov, “the courage of his actions, which at times seemed almost insane, which confused his opponents, especially the Austrian generals, and which half already ensured victory, actually grew out of great caution, was the result of the deepest deliberation, methodicality, and calculation.”

Any manager tries to reduce the risk of his actions to a minimum, as far as circumstances allow. But in general, you cannot do without risk in management, and this is the rule . Thus, “in order to successfully withstand this continuous struggle with the unexpected, it is necessary to have two properties: firstly , mind , capable of seeing through the thickening twilight with the flickering of his inner light and groping for the truth; secondly , courage to follow this faint guiding glimmer,” states Carl Clausewitz.

The unreliability of news, the continuous intervention of chance in developing events leads to the fact that the leader is actually faced with a completely different state of affairs than he expected at the beginning of the journey; this cannot but affect his plans. If the influence of new data is so strong that it decisively cancels all accepted assumptions, then others must take the place of the latter, but for this there is usually not enough data, since in the flow of activity events overtake the decision and do not give time not only to maturely think over the new position, but even take a good look around. And therefore, the rapidly changing situation requires great courage, courage and intelligence from the leader, because the world is open to the future, and tomorrow is not predetermined.

Risk management is becoming one of the most important technologies of modern civilization. Risk management is making rational decisions and actions in risky situations, the meaning of which is to protect an object (be it an individual, family, enterprise, etc.) from possible dangers in the present or future. This technology includes “risk calculation” (mathematical modeling of unstable complex systems), monitoring of individual objects and systems and diagnosing the thresholds of their stability, reserving very significant resources to ensure sustainability in relation to crisis situations and disasters in the economic and social spheres.

Bifurcation point- change of the established operating mode of the system. Term from nonequilibrium thermodynamics and synergetics.

Bifurcation point- a critical state of the system, in which the system becomes unstable with respect to fluctuations and uncertainty arises: whether the state of the system will become chaotic or whether it will move to a new, more differentiated and higher level of order. A term from the theory of self-organization.

Properties of a bifurcation point

1. Unpredictability. Usually the bifurcation point has several attractor branches (stable operating modes), one of which the system will follow. However, it is impossible to predict in advance which new attractor the system will occupy.
2. The bifurcation point is short-term in nature and separates longer stable regimes of the system.
3. The avalanche effect of hash functions involves planned bifurcation points that deliberately introduce unpredictable changes to the final form of the hash string when even a single character in the original string changes.

See also

Write a review about the article "Bifurcation point"

Literature

• // Lebedev S. A. Philosophy of Science: Dictionary of Basic Terms. - M.: Academic Project, 2004. - 320 p. - (Gaudeamus Series).

Excerpt characterizing the Bifurcation Point

In the modern theory of self-organization there is the term “bifurcation point,” which denotes “a critical state of the system, at which it becomes unstable with respect to fluctuations and uncertainty arises: whether the state of the system will become chaotic or whether it will move to a new, more differentiated and high level of order.” I think that this physical and mathematical term does not bring anything new either to the understanding of human destiny or to the understanding of human history. Nevertheless, this very concept turns out to be something of an epistemological metaphor for me when I try to comprehend my path in life. This term is very convenient, because it brings convincing (albeit, probably illusory, as if scientific) clarity to the understanding of the life of a person, peoples, and humanity.

Every person has such bifurcation points in life - states of uncertainty that open up a person with the opportunity to choose his future movement in life. Moreover, in them “small” causes can have “big” consequences, but large ones - none; efforts can bring results, or they can be completely fruitless and even negative. There were quite a few such bifurcation points in my life.

Before writing these notes, I thought for a long time. They say that a person's character is destiny. Characters, like destinies, are unique. And I was overcome by doubt - so why talk about how my character, desires, aspirations and dreams influenced my destiny? Remembering my life, of course, I learn something about my character (I emphasize in hindsight, that is, very late). What use is this knowledge to others? After all, the story of my life will not teach anyone anything, if only because of its uniqueness. That's probably true. But people are not so disunited that the experience of the Other is absolutely uninteresting to them. In addition, I have a professional interest. My story can help someone understand their own destiny, and therefore, understand their own character. After all, this is, in my opinion, the meaning of philosophy, which I have been studying all my life. Philosophy does not teach anything (for this, go to science), it does not save (for this, go to the temple). Philosophy helps you understand yourself. Based on his own experience, the philosopher helps individual people to realize themselves, helps to form the consciousness of a social group, and helps the people and humanity in this. And then every person, every group, people and humanity consciously make their choice. My life experience and my profession as an editor with more than 20 years of experience convinced me of this.

I’m not sure that many people will be interested in my conceptual designs, but I think they will read people’s stories about their destinies. Another question is what benefit this will bring to the reader. But that's his problem.

Story one

Late summer 1962, morning, I’m going to write an essay. I am entering the Faculty of Philosophy at Moscow State University. Entrance exams at Mokhovaya. I enter the Universitet metro station and take it out of my pocket, no, not a nickel, I didn’t take a coin out of my pocket, but a homemade metal blank made to look like a coin. By that time, turnstiles had just appeared in the Moscow metro, into which you had to insert a five-kopeck coin. At first, the turnstiles worked with a plastic token, but there weren’t enough tokens, so the turnstiles were switched to five-kopeck coins. And working Moscow immediately responded to this with the mass production of homemade blanks “at a price.” At the factory, in the machine shop where I worked as a milling machine operator, this was not difficult to do, and my pockets were full of these pseudo-nickels.

Here I will step back from the plot I started to explain something in my biography. I was born in Ulansky Lane, in the very center of Moscow (the house has been preserved, now it seems to be a Lukoil hotel). I started studying at school No. 281 - the school was pre-war, with tradition. And then we moved to Leninsky Prospekt to a house next to the Moskva department store. This was the outskirts. There was no department store then, but there was a foundation on which I played the war. The house was inhabited by barracks residents from Nagornaya Street, and at the school where I transferred, the traditions were completely different, the atmosphere was far from educational. In addition, at the end of the 50s, another reform began in our country, and the school where I studied became an 11-year school with an emphasis on analytical chemistry. By that time, I already understood something about myself and did not feel any desire to become an analytical chemist. So, after finishing eighth grade, I left school. My older brother helped me get a job as a milling machine operator at the Neftepribor plant (I was only 15 at the time and I worked 4 hours), and enrolled in an evening school at some motor depot on Mytnaya Street (this kind of educational institution was called the “School of Working Youth”). .

I cannot say that a cult of knowledge reigned in this school. Everything was very unique. I remember that geography was taught by a very nice man who spoke Russian poorly, but was very temperamental. At the very first lesson, he sang to us a verse from a then popular song about the sailor Zheleznyak: “He went to Odessa, and came out to Kherson. Their detachment was ambushed...” After which he edifyingly raised his finger and said: this is what happens when geography is not taught...

But, one way or another, I graduated from this school. And by that time, it turned out that I had worked for 2 years and had the right to enter the Faculty of Philosophy of Moscow State University. At that time, people were accepted into this faculty only with experience or after the army.

So, I went to take the exam and in my pocket instead of nickels there were blanks. I lowered such a blank into the turnstile, as I had been doing for a couple of months. But then the adventures began. The blank was poorly cleaned and got stuck in the turnstile. I should have run away, but I was afraid of being late for the exam, and, dropping another blank into the adjacent turnstile, I ran down the escalator. A policeman and the station duty officer were already waiting for me below... After an hour-long conversation with the police officer, I was allowed to make a phone call. I called my brother Semyon at work, he was there and arrived half an hour later. He talked with the policeman for two hours. And I persuaded him to let me go. Just let go, breaking the protocol. By the way, there was no talk of any offerings - the policeman simply condescended. I ran to the clinic to complain about my health and ask for a certificate. And two days later I wrote an essay together with philologists. I got a 4 for it, entered Moscow State University and began to get involved in philosophy.

When I tell current students this story as an illustration on the topic “synergetics,” I end my story with the following thoughtful reasoning: “If the policeman hadn’t been persuaded, they would have put me in prison, I would have gone through camp school and, perhaps, in this attractor of my life I would have become If I were a thief in law, I would keep a common fund, drive a jeep with security, and would not waste time on you poor students for a very reasonable salary.” However, I admit honestly, I am grateful to my brother for saving me from this exciting criminal prospect... After all, I also owe the choice of my philosophical path to him.

Story two

I was 9 or 10 years old, and my older brother, Semyon, was graduating from the Faculty of Philosophy at Moscow State University at that time. The age difference was big. Moreover, unlike Semyon and even my (again, older) sister Svetlana, I was a street boy. Apparently, my mother’s educational efforts were no longer enough for me and I lived the tense life of my Moscow courtyard - making friends, fighting, making peace, playing war... And in the evenings, dozing off, I did my homework to the encouragement of my mother’s shouts. However, I graduated from the first and second grades with full honors. But, it’s true, I was an excellent student at the school where my brother studied, who graduated from school with a gold medal, and for some reason the teachers remembered him. The reflection of this memory fell on me too. It was somehow embarrassing to be completely foolish, and I read something (by the way, not syllable by syllable - one of the few in the class), taught something, answered something.

However, my brother, bending over the desk, was before my eyes. The five of us lived in one room. And his friends and fellow students came - Pyotr Rogachev, the Ossetian Khodikov, Lev Skvortsov and had intelligent conversations about subjects that were unheard of in the yard. The ambiguity was enticing. By the way, in our house on the floor above there lived an artist, whom, as I later found out, Evald Ilyenkov went to visit. Semyon also talked to him. And I also saw how Semyon hid books in the closet, bought with money saved on lunches, and his mother then cursed when she discovered these books in the closet under clothes. By the way, around then a funny story happened before my eyes. In our common communal corridor of 12 rooms, it seems, there was a telephone and a neighbor, when she came to her mother, reported that Semyon had told someone on the phone that yesterday he had spent the whole evening in a cafe. The mother burst into tears, waited for Semyon and began to reprimand him - we are undernourished, we think that you are studying, but you... At first Semyon could not understand anything, and then he explained - the cafe is a philosophy office (KF) at the Faculty of Philosophy on Mokhovaya. Then I also sat in this CF.

In general, by the age of 10, when, as they say, I began to understand something in life, a certain intellectual bacillus apparently penetrated into me. And an event happened that I wanted to talk about.

One day I sat comfortably at Semyon’s desk and began to do what I assumed he always did. I began to whisper something, resting my forehead on my fist, underlining lines in the book and making notes in the margins. I came across a thick red pencil and V. I. Lenin’s work “Materialism and Empirio-Criticism.” I must say, I really enjoyed what I was doing and finished the book quite thoroughly before I was stopped by my mother’s slap on the head. It must be assumed that the slap on the head was not thorough enough to discourage me from this activity. After all, in the end, I still became an editor...

And one more memory from those times. Father and brother settled down to talk on the sofa in front of the dining table. At the same time, they looked so seriously concerned that it did not pass my attention. Curiosity prevailed and I quietly crawled under the table. And they began to discuss the letter of the CPSU Central Committee regarding Stalin’s personality cult. I listened. I can’t say that I had never heard anything like this before. But all this was always said in passing, on occasion and as if allegorically, with hints, the meaning of which I did not really understand. One could criticize the work of the house management and add that everything works like that for us, but He alone cannot keep track of everything. But such comments did not in any way affect what I heard at school and on the radio (“the plate” hung in our room, but our family liked to listen mainly to “theater at the microphone”). However, there, under the table, apparently there was an “overdose”. Of course, there could be no talk of any ideological revolutions, due to my complete lack of this very worldview. But I remember my feeling clearly - there was a feeling that some wise organizer of everything, including my life (happy childhood), seemed to have disappeared. Of course, I did not notice the presence of this organizer in my daily affairs, but he seemed to be a guarantor of the stability of this world. And suddenly he was gone. It’s like a miracle in front of you, and then it turns out to be sleight of hand or a double bottom. I still live with this feeling.

Story three

I must say that there were quite a lot of such bifurcation points in my life. Options arose partly of my will, partly without any of my participation, partly, in general, contrary to my intentions.

I completed my first year and was drafted into the army, because that year the deferment was canceled at Moscow State University. The following year it was restored. But I fell into this crack. However, I was called up just to reduce my service life from 3 to 2 years, and I served for less than two years in the city of Nakhodka in the Far East in the border troops.

Then he returned to philosophy. Finished my studies. He received a honors diploma and was recommended for graduate school. He spoke at a faculty meeting, told with the best of intentions that we had not received enough money at the faculty, and went to work in a construction brigade. I returned and found out that very serious ideological miscalculations had been discovered in my party activities, and that at best I could only count on correspondence graduate school. The fact is that with my speech I got into intergroup struggle at the faculty. As a result, at the entrance exams, faculty groups pitted candidates for graduate school against their opponents so much that I was the only applicant who scored 15 points. It was Anatoly Mikhailovich Korshunov who picked me up, exactly who picked me up and brought me to full-time graduate school.

However, a year later Anatoly Mikhailovich himself was expelled from the University. I asked him if he would remain my supervisor. He agreed, and I did not ask to appoint a new one from the winning group in the faculty. From the distance of my life experience (I don’t want to use the expression “from above” here), I now understand that all this looked like a challenge, like a position that could not go unpunished. Although to be honest, I didn’t think about anything like that at the time.

As an additional load, I taught a methodological seminar at the Faculty of Biology of Moscow State University. We discussed all sorts of philosophical and methodological topics in relation to biology, and in principle the employees liked the classes. Suddenly the head of the group calls me and warns me deeply confidentially that at my next lesson there will be a representative of the Moscow State University Party Committee (not the faculty, but MSU), who oversees ideological work throughout the Moscow State University: supposedly information has been received that I am interpreting something wrongly in politics CPSU. I didn’t touch anything like that at all; to be honest, it wasn’t interesting to me at all. (In our second year we had an exam in mathematics, and everyone who didn’t pass went to scientific communism.) But it was not difficult to guess the reasons for the increased ideological interest in me - the department of Diamatology, where I was a graduate student, was headed by an ardent opponent of Korshunov and Moreover, he is a specialist in philosophical problems of biology. At the same time, the situation in which I found myself even vaguely resembled the point of bifurcation: no matter what I said, everything would be assessed as an unacceptable ideological mistake. And the level of the supposed examination was such that it was the height of naivety to hope after it for finishing graduate school. A completely different “attractor” was shining ahead. I don’t know what my fate would have been like if I had been expelled from graduate school with the appropriate wording, but it would definitely have led me away from philosophy.

But I didn’t want that anymore. I turned to my fellow student Vladimir Kuznichevsky, who was then successfully working in the journalistic and ideological field and was a freelance lecturer at the CPSU Central Committee. We just graduated, he went there, and that means I stayed in science. I call him and say: “Listen, teach a lesson!” I explained everything to him honestly. He comes. I'm starting class. A representative of the large party committee is sitting, the dean of the biology department is sitting, and the secretary of the party bureau of the biology department is sitting. I go out and say: “You know, in general I should be teaching this class, but here was the opportunity to listen to a freelance lecturer from the Central Committee. He’ll tell you about the international situation now, I’ll give up my job to him!” And I sat down. And in the middle one representative of the commission left, then the dean left. So Kuznichevsky conducted this lesson with me, or rather instead of me. This time I was blown away. But I defended my PhD thesis, which was generally not outstanding, for 3 hours (instead of the usual 40 minutes) and defended it with a margin of one-third of the vote. My opponents pulled me out - Boris Semenovich Gryaznov, Anatoly Fedorovich Zotov and the review of Viktor Grigoryevich Afanasyev, then deputy editor-in-chief of the Pravda newspaper. For which I am grateful to them. Because they allowed me to stay in philosophy.

Story four

I remember how my close friend Volodya Mudragei ended up in the hospital. For me it was a terrible shock. I visited him for the last time in the hospital; he was about to be discharged. His death was a medical error. He was about to be discharged, I went to the country. September 29. And suddenly there was a call: “Volodya is gone...” I was completely devastated, I couldn’t believe it, I kept hoping that something was wrong, that the call was not real, that something had been mixed up. While I was riding on the train, I didn’t believe it. It was a blow for me. I felt orphaned. This is true. He led me, led me through the magazine. Even now it is difficult to talk about it.

Mudragei meant a lot to me. He taught me how to edit when I joined the magazine. How much I knew how to write is a cultural-historical question, but I didn’t know how to edit, and Volodya led me by the hand. Moreover, he did not teach me what and how to edit. He just helped me do it. He stopped by one day, I asked him about something, I didn’t even really know anything about editorial signs. He showed it to me. I saw these signs in the works done by my brother, who worked as an editor all his life. But in action, in action, this is Volodya. He had an amazing ability to feel the situation, the text... Sometimes it seemed that he was not reading the manuscript. He was a little shortsighted. He somehow leaned her against him and almost followed the text with his nose, and then said: “No, this won’t work.” Moreover, the most abstract, complex manuscripts, on some kind of abstruse subjects, phenomenological, which he had never dealt with in his life. Then they gave it to specialists and they told us: “No, this won’t work.” The editors joked that Volodya does not read manuscripts, but simply sniffs them. And the magazine... He loved it, he made the magazine. He had a wealth of life work experience. After all, he left the magazine for a while, worked as an editor at Pravda, and then returned. He returned with the beginning of perestroika, returned as deputy chief, and returned to Vladislav Alexandrovich. Around the same time, a little later, I came, and since then we have worked together.

Volodya was very active, always preoccupied with something, but next to him I experienced an amazing feeling of inner peace. Trubnikov called him a recklessly concerned person. His anxiety created calm. He was worried about the magazine, he was always busy with something, some magazine topics, some problems of the magazine, rates, that is, he lived by the magazine, and around him it was very calm. I honestly admit that I was organizationally “parasitizing” next to him. Because he delved into everything. And when the perestroika processes began, that is, when our magazine was thrown out of the Pravda publishing house in 1991 and we found ourselves generally suspended between heaven and earth - here Vladislav Aleksandrovich and Volodya were constantly solving some problems. I also took part in this, but, to be honest, I only sometimes felt the dangers threatening the magazine. After all, it was a very interesting situation, I can’t help but tell you about it.

The magazine was offered support by some businessman. Through some acquaintances in the magazine "Communist" we came across this businessman. This businessman invited us. I remember we came to a respectable building: this open book on Novy Arbat. Previously, the CMEA and the Council for Mutual Economic Assistance were located there, and then the mayor’s office and businessmen were located there. We came to him, sat down, and began to try to say something, tell him something about our prospects. The businessman listened to us and said: “The magazine occupies a mansion. Well, that's a lot for you. I have an apartment in Kuntsevo, you will move there, and I will finance you for a year. If it turns out that you are not becoming profitable, then I will send you a manager, and you will print what I say.” In my opinion, then Lektorsky said so thoughtfully: “Patterns, or what?” - “Well, it will be necessary - and you will print the patterns.” Volodka tugs at me and whispers: “Let’s get out of here.” We jumped out of there as if scalded, we barely managed to escape this situation altogether. Then we were picked up by the Nauka publishing house, it was not honey... The 1990s were difficult times, we were pushed out of the mansion on Smolenskaya, and we managed to leave, and leave more or less with dignity, to Nauka. All the troubles, all the realities of life and content in the magazine - he took it all upon himself. Together we organized the Moscow Philosophical Foundation and published books, edited them, reviewed them, and found translators. The money was provided by the Soros Foundation. We have published about a dozen and a half books: Jung, Ricoeur, Berger and Luckmann, etc. Recently, I came across a booklet from twenty years ago - texts by Jung. And I must say, I looked with pride at what we once did together. There were many difficulties, especially the little things in life. Well, for example, the situation: the Moscow Philosophical Foundation needed a seal. We made this seal, came up with its shape, went and ordered it with our own money. It was made. There, along the edges there was “Moscow Philosophical Foundation”, and in the middle it was written “Executive Committee”. The seal had to be registered with the police. We went to the police. There they looked at our papers, the papers were normal. And then the inspector says: “What is this – an executive committee? This is something incomprehensible, no, it’s impossible.” And he refused. We're leaving. Volodka says: “What worried him?” I say, “The word is executive.” He takes a knife out of his pocket, we cut off the word “executive” right there, cut it out from the seal, come back and say: “Can we have a committee?” He says: “It’s possible.” Our press functioned for quite a long time; financial reports also had to be written there; we found accountants, they made reports. We were not involved in any financial activities, but the report was required. And all this was led by Volodya. He loved to remember one conversation with Mamardashvili, who once held this position – “deputy. the main thing” - he occupied: “I,” he says, “suggested replacing one article with another, and he said: “You know, Volodya, do you see this ruble? - (there were metal rubles back then) - it is whole, it cannot be taken apart in pieces. You can change it, then there will be a lot of change. And the magazine should be like this ruble - whole.” That's the story." And it was very instructive. I began to understand some things right as I was working at the magazine, then I became the “responsible officer,” and in this capacity I was next to Volodya all the time. We communicated very warmly and closely. We lived this crazy outer life together and I always felt his shoulder next to me.

I remember another story, how Volodya and I were summoned to the investigator. This is a story that deserves to be published. Two articles appeared in the magazine. Article by G. Gachev and article by V. Mildon. Gachev's article was written from a psychoanalytic position. It contained this kind of reasoning: the Russian peasant, the peasant, on the one hand, considered the earth to be his mother, and on the other hand, when he plowed, he “raped” it. He noted this element of the violence of Mother Earth in his article and interpreted it in a psychoanalytic spirit as a “violation.” And he tried to build a concept on this. And the second article is by Mildona, which examined parricide as a Russian problem. Well, we specially selected these articles. We were looking for a new topic for the magazine; it was such a troubled time. They looked for new forms of expression and sometimes published something quite risky from a philosophical point of view. Suddenly we receive a summons to the investigator. Both me and Volodya. We're coming. He explains to us that we are accused of slander; there is a statement received, by the way, from a deputy - and they are obliged to consider deputy requests. And the meaning of the statement is this: we are slandering the Russian people, this is slander. And slander in the articles by Gachev and Mildon. And for this slander we are entitled to four years in general regime camps. We were a little taken aback. They began to delve into it. Volodya realized after some time: “We have a special magazine. It doesn’t go into open subscription.” The investigator smiled joyfully and said: “Well, then two years in general regime camps.” At the same time, the investigator, I must say, looked at us with great sadness and said: “Guys, I have three murders hanging on me, and you are with your little things, but I can’t do anything. You’ll get two years, and you’ll know what you’re writing about.” And while Volodya was discussing this topic with him, negotiating for another six months of general regime camps, I looked at it completely dumbfounded, then suddenly I realized: “Tell me, why, in fact, should they condemn us? What is slander? The investigator popularly explained to me: “If a person is called an idiot, attributing to him the symptoms of this disease, this is slander; if he is not an idiot in reality, they are ascribing a mental illness to him, a psychophysiological one.” I’m sitting, digesting this definition, Volodya is again bargaining with the investigator, discussing some details, he, in my opinion, has still bargained for six months. There the period was reduced to a year, since we are, after all, a journal of the Academy of Sciences and have the right to analyze the most complex social phenomena. And then suddenly enlightenment came over me. I tell the investigator: “Listen, this is not slander! This is a metaphor! This is borrowed from Freud's texts. This is not slander, this is something else. Write..." - And I began to dictate: - "... the Russian land does not have genitals, so there could be no talk of any act of rape." The investigator laughed merrily, wrote it all down and joyfully said: “Well, the case is closed! Go!" The last thing we asked him was, who is this, what kind of deputy? He said: “I can’t name the name, but his assistant wrote it, they actually took the whole magazine for it.” What you publish, and here, in particular, for the articles of Gachev and Mildon. We later realized that this was a man who had brought some stupid article to the magazine, and we refused him. He was offended and decided to settle accounts with us. This is how we got away from punishment.

And one more story.

Somehow we received a parcel. We open - the issue of our magazine. And on the cover: a list of members of the editorial board, indicating the nationality of each. They determined, of course, based on last names, so almost the entire editorial board turned out to be, in the opinion of the sender of the parcel, “Jewish.” And below it was written: “Dear comrade Pruzhinin, I really sympathize with you. I can imagine how hard it is for you when there are only Jews and Mudrags of unknown nationality around..."

Story five

This tourist recreational trip can also be called a bifurcation point. Although it's hard to say whether it's mine or not. Probably mine too.

Lev Bazhenov, a participant in this campaign (and, by the way, the author of a well-known book about a scientific hypothesis that has by no means lost its relevance today), dubbed it the “ice crusade.” As always, Anatoly Mikhailovich Korshunov invited us to go on a hike. In general, I went on various trips with him. There were long-term difficult hikes, for example, through the polar and subpolar Urals (with the “drag” of kayaks and a pass from the tributaries of the Ob to the tributaries of the Pechera or from the Pechera to the Ob, with a descent along the rapids of mountain rivers). But there were also trips, so to speak, recreational ones - on the May or November holidays, for 10-12 days. So, this “ice-crusade” was in May and was supposed to be entertaining.

I took my nephew with me (he was in 8th grade at the time), and Bazhenov took his daughter, also an 8th grader. There were two of my friends - Dima Feldman (today a professor at MGIMO) and Volodya Evdokimov (now deceased, then he was a graduate student of Korshunov). The route was simple: train, lead to a small lake, then along the Vetluga River (a tributary of the Volga) to the station and by train back to Moscow. And so, somewhere in the last days of April, we unloaded from the train, loaded ourselves into a tractor cart, and after a few hours we reached the lake. But the lake had not yet opened up - it was all covered with soft ice and snow! There was no turning back - the mud had begun. We settled in the club and waited for spring for two days. Then we decided to move...

Anatoly Mikhailovich and I went on reconnaissance. We got into the kayak, swam about two hundred meters and got into the “fat”. Do you know what lard is? This is about a meter layer of loose snow, two thirds of which is under water. And most importantly, it is not clear whether there is ice under it or not. A kayak cannot move in it, you cannot walk on it - you go out on the water, and it closes over your head. Anatoly Mikhailovich decided to check whether there was ice, that is, whether it was possible to walk. I took a few steps and failed. But he did not immediately go under the water, because he had an oar in his hands. He hovered waist-deep and slowly began to sink. I rushed out of the boat towards him. He tutted at me. There was nothing I could do. He paused and began to say goodbye to me and his loved ones in general...

Since he spoke in an even voice, without hysteria and sank slowly, I somewhat came to my senses and began to think... And I did. I pushed my oar to him and it slid through the snow and ended up next to him. He leaned on two oars and slowly lay down on the “fat”, and then crawled to the boat.

We're back. Nothing was said about our adventures. We waited another day and then went. Sometimes we swam, sometimes we walked on the ice, which cracked and collapsed under our feet, and we carried boats... Experienced hikers call this kind of hike “on the tail of winter.” And they know what it is.

There were many more very, very dangerous situations on this trip. We sank more than once, the boats capsized, but we swam out... I remember the boat with Dima capsized. He went underwater. We wait, because it is impossible to do anything while sitting in a kayak. Next to my boat, the waters open up, Dima rises up to his waist, tears off his glasses and says: “Borya, take it, otherwise everything will be lost.” I take the glasses, and he goes under the water again. By the way, the water is with ice, somewhere around zero.

To stop and warm up, it was necessary to land on the shore, covered with a meter-thick layer of snow. We would swim up, one of us would get up in the boat, fall onto the shore and start rolling around in the snow, then trample it down. We set up tents at this place. We slept in the snow, but during the entire hike, no one even sneezed even once. Children, by the way, too. We survived. And then they boasted a lot and often about this campaign.

But this is the first time I’m talking about the situation with Anatoly Mikhailovich that happened 40 years ago.

The sixth story, which I heard on a hike

More about fate. The places where our hiking routes lay were “very remote” and the backbone of the local population were former prisoners without the right to leave. This story was told to me by an ex-con who spent the night around our campfire. The two of us sat with a pot of vodka until the morning. And he talked about himself.

“I am a Muscovite, before the war I lived on Dorogomilovka. I was physically very strong and hooligan. Well, like all the Dorogomilov punks. Once, just before the war, I went into a pub to have a drink and got into a fight. I punched a guy who caught me with something. But he turned out to be a “Soviet worker” and I got 2 years in the camps.”

I’ll interrupt his story - I read something similar from Solzhenitsyn. But I assure you, my narrator did not read anything like that. So here it is:

“The war began and I asked to go to the front. They didn’t let me in for a long time, then they took me. A year later I was covered in medals and orders... An experienced warrior. And then they sent reinforcements - young lieutenants, fresh from a three-month course, who had not smelled gunpowder. And this little guy started yelling at me... I punched him. He held his face in his hands, and I looked - something was oozing between his fingers. I knocked out his eye. Maybe I saved his life - junior commanders died very quickly... But one way or another, I still remember the words of the order: in view of the difficult situation at the fronts, replace capital punishment with 6 months of disbat.

They also didn’t live long in the disbat... However, here’s the thing – he survived and wasn’t even seriously wounded. He returned to Dorogomilovka covered in medals. And here we go again, another beer hall, another fight. And again some activist was caught... In general, a total of 10 years of camps and settlement. I live well here. I’m the head of People’s Control here in the village. I only miss Dorogomilovka... Sometimes..."

It seems to me that this is a topic for reflection by a philosopher. Socrates, after all, was thinking about exactly these kinds of stories.

The seventh story, unfinished

After graduate school, I again found myself in a situation of choice. There was a protracted Arab-Israeli war, and against this background I was not accepted into any universities. For six months I wrote something for myself, and at night I worked as an operator in the parcel shop at the Kievsky railway station. Teaching was basically closed to me at that time, and therefore the prospect of working in philosophy became increasingly doubtful. But in March 1972 I became an employee of the sector of the theory of dialectical materialism at the Institute of Philosophy of the USSR Academy of Sciences. Lev Vladimirovich Skvortsov, who studied with my brother at the Faculty of Philosophy of Moscow State University, helped me. And Vladislav Aleksandrovich Lektorsky took me to this sector, with whom I still work.

This is where I really found myself in a philosophical attractor. My people around me were Evald Vasilyevich Ilyenkov, Genrikh Stepanovich Batishchev, Vladimir Sergeevich Shvyrev. And a very close circle - Nikolai Nikolaevich Trubnikov, Evgeniy Petrovich Nikitin, Boris Semenovich Dynin (who left for Canada in 1974), Nelly Stepanovna Mudragei and Vladimir Ivanovich Mudragei, Natalia Sergeevna Avtonomova. Nelly Stepanovna Mudragei wrote about the atmosphere that reigned in this inner circle. What can I add?..

Thanks to all my Honored interlocutors... Their stories and our conversations are before you.

bifurcation point- dvejinio taškas statusas T sritis fizika atitikmenys: engl. bifurcation point vok. Bifurkationspunkt, m rus. bifurcation point, f; bifurcation point, f pranc. point de bifurcation, m … Fizikos terminų žodynas

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Books

• Bifurcation point, Velichko Andrey Feliksovich. The former Soviet engineer San Sanych Smolyaninov, and now His Imperial Majesty Alexander IV, thought for some time that the inertia of history had been broken and the bifurcation point had been passed. After all...
• Bifurcation point, Velichko A..?Former Soviet engineer San Sanych Smolyaninov, and now His Imperial Majesty Alexander IV, thought for some time that the inertia of history had been broken and the bifurcation point had been passed. After all...