As The Russian Government Officially Hides Death Statistics, Sales Of Cardboard Coffins Soar
In Russia, dying has never been more affordable—or more humiliating.
Cardboard coffins, once reserved for unclaimed bodies and stray dogs, are now flying off the shelves. According to funeral directors quoted in Lenta.ru and other Russian outlets, up to 50% of all burials in some regions now use cardboard boxes instead of traditional wooden caskets.
“We never used to offer them unless someone specifically asked,” admitted one undertaker. “Now people come in and ask for cardboard first. It’s practical.” Another explained the coffin’s appeal bluntly: “It’s lighter. Easier to carry. Cheaper. And no one’s embarrassed anymore.”
Of course they’re not. In today’s Russia, cardboard is as patriotic as the now rehabilitated Stalin.
It started as dark parody—activists hauling cardboard coffins to mock the endless stream of dead Wagner fighters. But in true Putin-era fashion, the “heroes of the special operation” are getting buried like cheap exports: folded into cardboard boxes, taped shut, and quietly forgotten. After all the chest-thumping speeches, Z-patriotism, and TV parades, this is the grand finale—no honors, no glory, just a dirt nap in recycled packaging.
While the state hosts military parades and issues grand statements on historic destiny, the average Russian family is holding funerals in a box. Some funeral homes now openly display cardboard coffins in their front windows—no longer a shame, and quickly becoming the national standard.
The Church has no problem with it either. A representative of the Russian Orthodox Church confirmed that cardboard is perfectly acceptable for burials, as long as the ceremony is done properly. In other words: as long as the prayers are read, you can be lowered into your forever home like the future, hopes and dreams of Russian nation itself.
And all of this just happens to coincide with Rosstat (Russia’s national statistics board) suddenly deleting death statistics from its official monthly reports.
Increasingly inconvenient regional mortality numbers vanished in March. National numbers disappeared in April. No explanation given. Problem solved.
Demographers suspect the real reason is obvious:
In addition to the decades long population exodus, too many people are now dying, and no one in government wants to print the numbers. War deaths. Medical collapse. Poverty. Suicide. Despair.
Easier to hide the bodies than explain them.
This is what modern Russia looks like: soldiers die for the Czar, and come home in cardboard. Pensioners collapse in villages, and are boxed like expired produce. The coffin is cheap. The ceremony is quick. The paperwork is missing.
And according to one funeral worker, business has never been better:
“Before, we sold two or three a month. Now it’s ten per week.”
That’s the market talking. The Kremlin isn’t. But cardboard never lies. And right now, it’s telling the whole story—folded, taped, and six feet under.
The corpsegrinder that is modern Russia rumbles on.
