On Monday, one of Russia’s largest defense contractors, Rostec, released new footage of its most advanced military exoskeleton in use. And as is so often the case when Russia makes such an announcement, a number of media outlets have taken their claims at face value in their reporting.

However, the historical precedent would suggest that we might want to hold off on congratulating Russia on cracking the exoskeleton egg. Russia has a long history of headline-grabbing military tech claims that have repeatedly been proven misleading at best and downright fabricated at worst.

Perhaps the most egregious falsehood Western media briefly fell for in the recent past was the Russian bipedal robot dubbed “Borris” that was unveiled in December of 2018 at the Putin Youth Forum in the city of Yaroslavl, Russia. The robot performed impressively, seemingly handling a number of complex tasks with ease. This suggested to many that Russia may be further along in the robotics game than previously suspected.

That is until some people began to notice that it looked an awful lot like the incredible new Boris robot was actually nothing more than a person in a robot suit.

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(Screen capture from Russian State television)

That theory was soon proven true.

The tweets translate to:
“At the youth forum Putin was shown ‘the most modern robot Boris.’ But this is just a man in a suit.”
“Here is that ‘modern robot’ for you — an exclusive photo of the preparations for Putin’s youth forum in Yaroslavl.”

Of course, that wasn’t Russia’s only robotic claim to be full of hot air in 2018. In April of the same year, famed AK-47 maker Kalashnikov unveiled its own intimidating battle suit. It was hailed by Western media outlets as something “straight out of Aliens the movie,” despite actually being little more than a statue with automated arms that bears a closer resemblance to Robocop’s Ed-209 in that it too can’t climb stairs.

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Kalashnikov claimed a more mobile version would be unveiled in 2020, but has yet to manifest. (Kalashnikov)
Not all of Russia’s exoskeleton or robotic failures have been quite so openly fabricated. And indeed some could be chalked up to little more than Russia’s propaganda machine spinning up faster than the nation’s real military technology could keep pace. Such was likely the case with Russia’s (once again) headline-grabbing Uran-9 unmanned ground combat, or infantry support, vehicle.
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Russia’s Uran-9 in rehearsal for the Moscow Parade (Dmitriy Fomin on Flickr)

The entire world reported on Russia’s announcement. Purportedly, the armed infantry drone, Uran-9, would be deployed to Syria for combat operations and further testing. The fact that Russia was already placing an armed, semi-autonomous robot into combat suggested to many that Moscow was demonstrating a significant lead when compared to Western efforts to do the same. But after a flurry of coverage regarding the deployment, coverage ceased regarding its use. The reason was that Russian state-media outlets (where most Western coverage of these advancements is derived) stopped covering the platform.

It wasn’t until months later that the Uran-9’s long list of deficiencies made its way to the public. Initially, not through press coverage picked up by the West, but rather after discussions between military leaders held months later found their way online.

Uran-9 unmanned combat ground vehicle displayed in 2016. (WikiMedia Commons)

In 2018 discussions from the Russian security conference “Actual Problems of Protection and Security” held at the N.G. Kuznetsov Naval Academy in St. Petersburg, made their way to the press. The truth behind the Uran-9, it was revealed, was not nearly as impressive as its coverage in the West would have suggested.

A.P. Anisimov, a Senior Research Officer from the 3rd Central Research Institute of the Russian Defence Ministry, concluded that the platform was incapable of performing the tasks it was designed for. Press coverage claimed a three-kilometer range for the control of the ground drone, but the truth was that operators would lose control of it at distances as short as 300 meters or whenever they lost line of sight. Operators lost complete control of the vehicle for at least one minute on no fewer than 17 separate occasions, with two of those instances lasting longer than an hour.