The Kremlin’s trusted polling firm WCIOM, which also happens to be state-owned, has been releasing the results of its surveys faster and faster, and the news isn’t good for Russia’s President Vladimir Putin. The latest poll, measuring Russians’ “trust” in politicians,¹ shows Putin registering only 32.8 percent support—his lowest rating in more than 13 years. This follows a poll released one week ago that had Putin at 33.4 percent. Both of those are a big fall from May of last year, when almost 47 percent of Russians trusted him. But the real news is less the drop, and more how frequently WCIOM is releasing its results.

In a normal Western country, polls coming out in quick succession don’t usually raise eyebrows among observers by themselves. And even in Russia, polling is a normal part of political life; yes, some pollsters are more independent than others, but there is a culture of paying attention to polling even as democratic institutions have atrophied under Putin.

What makes these most recent “trust” polls notable is the company releasing them. WCIOM is staffed by Kremlin-friendly people, and they appear to be trying to send a message to Putin that things are not OK. The pace at which they are being released underlines the urgency of their message. Is Putin listening?

Vladimir Putin, a man who has been refining his populist pitch before “populism” was a hot topic among Western pundits, has always worked to have “the silent majority” on his side—or, at least making it look like he did. It was these “ordinary people” that he turned to when Moscow’s elites turned on him and took to the streets in 2011 to protest his orchestrated retaking of the Presidency from his loyalist Dmitry Medvedev. During these protests, Putin’s United Russia party bussed in its own people to Moscow to take part in alternative rallies in support of the move.

The difference between the Moscow intelligentsia and the crowds rallying a mile away was striking—and intentionally so. It was a skilled PR operation. Putin’s people were in large part poorer community college students from the provinces around Moscow, a visual signal designed for television that he represented the majority of ordinary people, that he did not need the approval of the minority of intellectuals, professors, and the creative class. I am the legitimate voice of the people, Putin seemed to be saying to the West.

It was this same silent majority that supported the annexation of Crimea, and that drove Putin’s approval ratings through the roof. It was this same silent majority Putin leaned on when sanctions started flying from the West.

And it is from these very same “ordinary people” that Vladimir Putin seems to have become estranged as 2018 came to a close. As Aleksandr Baunov at Carnegie Moscow Center recently wrote, the word “stability,” a term synonymous with Putin’s rule up until now, has almost disappeared from his public pronouncements. In the so-called May decree, an executive order outlining policy goals that Putin signs every time he is inaugurated, stability is mentioned only once, and only with regards to the economy. In his annual call-in show, Putin mentioned stability again only once. And at his national press-conference, the sacred word was spoken four times, only one of which referred to Russia’s internal affairs. Putin now finds himself arguing with factory workers in Primorye (the transcript of this run-in was deleted from the Kremlin’s website) and defending highly unpopular pension reforms while Russian CEO compensations increase. He appears exhausted and demoralized by his base.

Speaking in DC last week, Carnegie Moscow Center’s Andrey Kolesnikov pointed out that Putin’s approval ratings have been frozen in place for the past three months. Russia’s leader appears unable to improve the public’s perception of his performance no matter what he does. Russia’s attack on Ukrainian vessels in the Kerch strait in November may have been expected to revive Putin’s revanchist appeal among Russians, but it didn’t work. Putin’s press-conference similarly didn’t budge the numbers.

Could it be that bread-and-butter issues are finally getting their due? Russia under Putin has always been subject to a unique unwritten social contract, where majorities united behind the regime for the sake of geopolitical goals related to national greatness. Putin always seemed to enjoy a wide margin of support as he invaded Ukraine, or sent troops to Syria, or fought Western sanctions. Inflation, drops in real disposable income, foreign investment drying up, capital fight—none of this seemed to make a meaningful dent in his polling figures. It’s as if the Russian public was convinced that a better future was just around the corner as long as they kept faith with Putin’s Make Russia Great Again project.

It feels Putin’s base is experiencing something similar to what Moscow’s liberals felt in 2011. However naive or exaggerated, the expectations that a second Medvedev term represented a chance at a better future were very real; and these expectations were crushed when Putin announced that Medvedev would not be running. It’s not as clear-cut now as it was then, in large part because there is no single identifiable event or moment that caused these expectations to crumble. But it feels analogous.

Up until now, Putin has managed to shift responsibility for unpopular policies onto his scapegoat Medvedev. The “counter-sanction” ban on food imports to Russia? That was the Prime Minister’s decision, Putin’s spokesman would always point out. Or the VAT tax increase, up from 18 percent to 20 percent, set to take effect this year? That, too, was also a cabinet decision, not the Kremlin’s.

Kolesnikov argued that this might no longer be working. Polls now show that Russians do not see Vladimir Putin as a Tsar anymore—as a leader somehow floating above the fray. Instead, people increasingly see him as a bureaucrat, a part of the government, and are holding him responsible for unpopular social policies.

If Kolesnikov’s read is right, a different set of polls becomes relevant. The respected independent pollster Levada reported that 53 percent of the public wants the government to resign, 20 points up from a month ago. Price increases and income drops were cited as prime causes for the discontent.

In a normal country, bad polling often leads to policy adjustments. In Russia, we don’t even know if these polls are reaching Putin. This could be the reason for the accelerating pace at which WCIOM is releasing its findings these days.

At the same time, it’s also well established that Putin doesn’t like to be seen to be caving under pressure, and never walks back his decisions. Russians joke that Alexey Navalny’s anti-corruption exposes have served as a kind of job guarantee for Putin’s most corrupt cronies, since Putin can’t bring himself to appear weak before the opposition. So Medvedev’s job is probably safe for the time being, but not only for face-saving reasons; he remains the most likely eventual successor to Putin, in no small part because he is so reliably loyal.

Still, it’s important to not underestimate the gravity of the situation. A recent article in the Kremlin-aligned newspaper MK, titled “When to Expect the Government to Resign,” sounded an ominous note for Putin. “Ukraine and Trump” are no longer working as distractions, the author argued. Living standards needed to improve, and the people running the show for years are not up to the job. “A simple change of the facade will not be enough,” he said. “The very policies of the state must change, and those policies must be run by a new, effective governing team.” Such an adjustment could not happen immediately, the author acknowledged, but continuing on the present course would be unwise. After all, he concluded, we mustn’t forget Pyotr Stolypin and the perilous path Russia’s Tsar Nicolas II chose at the beginning of the last century.