“That’s my point exactly!” the man in the sweater burst out. “Intelligence agencies are always drawing psychological profiles of national leaders. It’s even more necessary to understand the psychology of the peoples themselves. This has always been the province of psychology.”

“Could you give us an example?” Irina asked.

“Easily! The father of Russian psychology was Pavlov. He’s best known to the world for his experiments with associative reflexes, particularly his work with dogs, accustoming them to associate their dinner with the ringing of a bell, so that after a time they began to salivate just at the sound of the bell.”

“What do dogs have to do with national psychology?”

“Just this. Pavlov reported that there were some individual dogs that he could not train to salivate at the sound of the bell; in fact, he could not train them at all. He called them atavistic, throwbacks to their wolf ancestors. They were useless in the laboratory.”

“You’re still talking about dogs.”

“Wait. Then Pavlov expanded. He called that atavistic trait a ‘reflex of freedom.’ He said that this same reflex of freedom existed in human populations the same as in dogs, but to different degrees. In Western societies the reflex of freedom was pronounced. In Russian society, however, he said there was a dominant ‘reflex of obedience.’ This was not a moral judgment, only a scientific observation. And since the October Revolution and seventy years of communism, you can imagine how complete that reflex of obedience has become. So I’m simply saying that our expectations of any genuine democracy should be realistic.”

“Define realistic,” Irina said.

“Low.” He exuded the satisfaction of a man describing the death of a reprobate.

The engineer broke in from the booth. “Irina, we get feedback when the professor gets close to the microphone. I’m going to play the tape back. Take a break.”

Arkady expected to hear the conversation over again, but the engineer listened on his headset as sound continued to feed into the booth from the studio.

Irina opened a bag for a cigarette and the professor almost jumped the table to light it. As she shifted, her hair swayed, revealing the glint of an earring. The blue cashmere top was more elegant than Arkady would have thought she would wear in a radio station. When she thanked her guest with her eyes, he seemed content to squirm in them forever.

“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think? Comparing Russians with dogs?” she asked.

The professor folded his arms, still wrapped in self-satisfaction. “No. Think about it logically. Those individuals who wouldn’t obey were all killed or left long ago.”

Arkady saw contempt in her eyes, like the dilation of a flame. Or perhaps he was mistaken, because she responded with more amiable small talk. “I know what you mean,” she said. “There’s a different type leaving Moscow now.”