Security lapses at Kemerovo colleges, universities

Toward the end of September, Russia was shaken by another emergency inside an educational institution. A former student carried out a stabbing spree at one of Arkhangelsk’s technical colleges and nearly killed staff and students. After incidents like this, NGS42 conducts spot checks at educational institutions in Kuzbass. This time we tried to enter not schools but technical colleges and universities, and it turned out that safety there exists more on paper than in practice.

Correspondent Lera Gorodetskaya went to three ssuz (vocational colleges) in Kemerovo, while Elena Guskova tested the largest universities.

KuzTAGiS

The main building on Radishcheva Street is surrounded by a tall black fence, but the gate is open. Anyone can enter the grounds, but under the plan of our spot check we need to reach the classrooms.

The entrance area at KuzTAGiS (Kuzbass College of Architecture, Geodesy and Construction, KuzTAGiS) appears equipped with everything needed for the peace of mind of students and staff: turnstiles, metal-detector gates (had they been working in Arkhangelsk, perhaps the stabbing might have been averted), and a security post with a monitor showing images from dozens of cameras.

I walk through the frame, jangling metal keys, a phone, and a belt, but it stays silent. The next “obstacle” — a locked turnstile opened either by a pass or by the guard at the console. Two girls who entered before me showed temporary paper passes and wrote their names in the log. I was ready to praise the security team, but not so fast.

A woman who came in after me simply pulled a wing toward herself and dashed through. Seeing that she wasn’t stopped, I, in full view of the guards, did the same — voilà — and went inside without document checks or questions. I slowly walked to the stairs and went upstairs, never hearing from security: «And where are you going?»

In the end, it falls to the outsider in an educational institution to draw attention to the outsider. The instructors I approached, upon learning the college had failed our experiment, rushed to the entrance in shock.

— «How did you get in here? This is awful,» a staff member exclaimed and began scolding the elderly ChOP (private security company) guard.

The man did not see his own fault, and easily shifted it onto me.

— «You picked your moment, slipped through, and didn’t even identify yourself,» the guard lamented, awaiting management.

— «And would a perpetrator introduce himself and ask whether he may enter without a pass?» I asked — a reasonable question to which the man only spread his hands.

A few minutes later, Alexey Evtropov, deputy director for life safety, arrived, and the ChOP guard immediately stopped arguing. The manager demonstratively scolded the guard and anxiously explained that the “human factor” was to blame, insisting that the access-control system with bag checks “usually” works.

— «Look, we have a log here. Every week I brief the security staff on the access regime and anti-terror protection, and as you can see, today’s briefing was held,» Evtropov pointed to an entry in the notebook, but asked that it not be photographed.

I was firmly asked to go to the office of acting director Tatyana Semenova; the conversation followed much the same lines, but they were more interested in who slipped through the turnstile ahead of me than in who was on duty.

In parting, they asked to pre-clear the article with them. I refused and went to the next college.

SKST

The Siberian College of Service and Technology (SKST) on Kosmicheskaya Street greeted me with the same metal-detector gates, but at least here they beeped. It was for nothing, though — the elderly man in the guard booth paid no attention.

The building has modern turnstiles — with facial recognition. Students and instructors stand under the camera and, if their profile is in the database, the gate opens. That is how the system should work but, apparently, doesn’t have to. I walked in without hindrance — the turnstile was open, including for potential offenders. I went up to the floor where the administration sits and found the head of security, who asked me the same question as at the neighboring college: «How did you get in here?»

— «That’s impossible; I don’t even know what to say. Let’s go downstairs and I’ll sort this out right now,» proposed Maxim Bober, deputy director for security.

The debriefing in the guard booth didn’t last long: the men decided it was an accident. In their version, either the system accidentally read me or the turnstile accidentally failed to lock after the previous student. Sure, we believe that.

Bober «as one person to another» asked me to make the «right decision» while preparing the article.

KemTIPiSU

A turnstile with facial recognition separates outsiders from students at KemTIPiSU on Radishcheva Street. I watched for a couple of minutes as the system worked properly — unlike the frame, which was simply turned off.

The biometric system didn’t recognize me and blocked the turnstile. The guard noticed, but I said the magic words: «Please let me through, I’m late,» and I was let in without further questions.

With the same “why” and “how” questions, I went to management. The man who came out to me at the instructors’ request did not introduce himself and immediately asked:

— «Do you even have the authority to check us?»

After explaining what a «journalistic experiment» is, I brought him back to the point. So, I got through — what about a perpetrator?

With little worry or interest, the safety officer went to the guard post and reached the same conclusion as his colleagues at the neighboring college — it was an accident. In this case, the conversation with the institution’s management ended without even a promise of an internal inquiry.

Neither the guard nor the deputy director saw danger or negligence in the fact that an outsider could get in «by accident».

KemGU

At KemGU (Kemerovo State University, KemGU), getting into the institution was possible only on the second try. From the stop by the philharmonic, a large number of students streamed toward the second building. Tagging along at the end, I decided to slip in with everyone, but the plan failed. Right behind the doors, students fanned out to several turnstiles; all were closed and swung open only when touched by an electronic key, then immediately snapped shut. In an instant I was left alone before the checkpoint. The female guard wouldn’t even listen to my timid explanation that I had forgotten my documents: no ID — no entry, simple as that.

Having failed, I decided not to give up and to test another building. At the fifth, there were hardly any students at the entrance, and an elderly attendant sat alone at the desk.

I told a story that I absolutely needed to go to the department to clear my academic debts, since I’m a part-time student and came from far away, and, of course, I had forgotten my documents. There wasn’t even a passport photo on my phone.

In the end, the soft-hearted attendant let me in, writing a made-up name — Alena Ivanova — in the log, along with the first office number that came to mind — 204.

Of course, a humane attitude is admirable, but is it worth the risk when the safety of thousands of students is at stake? I found myself inside and went to the directorate to warn them that the security system was not in order and that some measures were needed.

The Institute of Philology, Foreign Languages and Media Communications was the closest. I explained the situation to a staff member in reception; she demanded not to be filmed, but the information about loopholes in the access-control system didn’t interest her at all. They still did not try to check my documents and suggested that a stranger go unaccompanied across the skyway to the main building, to the head of security’s office.

Gennady Lipatov, the university’s head of comprehensive security, also showed no interest in my documents. He thanked me for the information and «took note of it». I left KemGU alone, without any escort.

KuzGTU

In the first building of KuzGTU (Kuzbass State Technical University, KuzGTU) on Vesenniya Street, all the turnstiles were closed, and a guard stood nearby. I asked to go to the library, but without a pass I wasn’t allowed in, and persuasion was useless.

At the third building on Krasnoarmeyskaya Street, I was met by a female attendant, whom I asked to let me into the Department of Vehicle Operation on urgent business. Here I encountered an even firmer refusal. In the end, it was not possible to get into KuzGTU without documents and a pass — security was at the highest level.

Authorities’ reaction

We reported the results of our sweep to the Kuzbass Ministry of Education. The agency replied that an internal review would be conducted at all institutions except KuzGTU, which passed our test successfully.

«The heads of ChOPs (private security companies) have been summoned; complaints have been drawn up for poor-quality security services. Additional briefings have been conducted,» the press service noted.

Anti-terror security drills will also be organized at all ssuz and the university.