THE FORMER Soviet Union liked to boast of being the best-read country in the world, but the Kremlin is now complaining that post-communist Russia has dramatically turned its back on books in favour of trashy reality-TV shows and glossy magazines.

What is being called a systematic crisis even extends to the traditional bedtime story for children. In the 1970s, 80% of parents read aloud to their children. Today the figure is just 7%.

While the Russians' once-famous reading habits have gradually withered, other developing nations have taken up the baton. Figures from the United Nations place Russia only seventh on the global reading hit parade, which is now led by India, Thailand, and China.

Experts say the rot set in soon after the Soviet fall and that reading rates then collapsed in the 1990s, a period of economic and social upheaval during which alcoholism and drug use dramatically increased.

They also say that the rise of reality TV shows and the internet has exacerbated the problem.

In 1991, the year the Soviet Union imploded, 48% of young Russians systematically consumed literature. By 2005 that figure had shrunk to just 28%.

The Kremlin believes that the country's future competitiveness is threatened by the trend, and has launched a 13-year programme to try and stop the rot. It has also declared the next 12 months to be the Year of Reading in an attempt to raise awareness of the problem.

"Everything points to Russia approaching a critical level of contempt for reading," a recent government press release warned.

In 1991, 79% of Russians read at least one book a year. In 2005 that figure had fallen to 63%.

Newspapers and magazines have also been spurned. Only 24% of the population now read a daily newspaper, against 61% in 1991. Only 7% bother to pick up a magazine each day.

The kind of literature being consumed has also changed. In the Soviet era, classics by writers such as Fyodor Dostoyevsky and Lev Tolstoy were voraciously consumed. Today, experts say that Russians prefer Danielle Steele or JK Rowling and opt for science fiction and thrillers over novels or poetry.

"How-to" books have also enjoyed a mini-boom, with titles offering advice on how to become a millionaire or marry one being particularly popular. Meanwhile, senior Kremlin figures have lashed out at what they say is a dangerous dumbing down of the quality of TV programmes. Two of the most popular include an X-Factor-style talent show and a Big Brother-style reality show.

The government is fighting back by churning out lavish costume period dramas based on classic literature in the hope that people will pick up the books after watching.

Oleg Dobrodeyev, a senior TV state executive, says that such series pull in high ratings and that past experience has shown that demand for the original texts soars as a result.

Books themselves are much cheaper than in the West; it is possible to buy a hardback for just 60 roubles (£1.20).

However, experts say there are too few bookshops and that their place was gradually usurped in the 1990s by sex shops, casinos and pirate DVD outlets.

Moscow has just eight bookshops per 100,000 people, while the national average is just four. In Western Europe there are about 60 bookshops per 100,000 people. Moscow mayor Yuri Luzhkov has suggested converting the city's 2000 casinos into bookshops or libraries, since they are due to be relocated under new gambling laws anyway.

Russians' increasing lack of interest in reading is a far cry from the days of the Soviet Union, when children were famously able to recite large chunks of poetry by Alexander Pushkin by heart.

"Literacy is the path to communism," proclaimed a striking agitprop poster from 1920 that depicted a lively figure on a winged red horse with a book in hand.

Some experts have questioned Soviet claims of being the best-read people in the world, suggesting it was a propaganda ruse dreamt up by Leonid Brezhnev's advisers. But few dispute that reading and literacy rates were nonetheless unusually high.

Trend-spotters say the decline of reading in Russia has been matched by the rise of consumerism. This weekend Moscow hosted its third "Millionaire Fair," an occasion that attracts tens of thousands of ordinary Russians who come to gawp at sports cars, jets and expensive boats.

Stung by charges that it was little more than a crude show of materialism, the organisers have this year borrowed a few paintings by famous artists to give the event a "cultural" dimension.