Environmental control is not only about instruments, numbers, and protocols. It is about the ability to listen to the environment, catch nuances, understand the air’s breath, and perceive the temperature of human conflicts.
Viacheslav Yakovlev is a person who, for eight years, has measured the invisible daily: noise, emissions, air and water composition. He works in a family business that serves up to 60 clients monthly across Ukraine, providing businesses and individuals with data capable of resolving disputes, protecting business, or safeguarding health. A conversation with him is a window into a profession that rarely makes headlines but underpins the quality of our lives.
Viacheslav, your path in ecology started early. In our first conversation, you said you followed your parents into the field. What kept you in this profession?
Probably responsibility. When you see that real people’s safety, their right to silence, clean air, and normal working conditions depend on your numbers, it’s hard to leave. It’s no longer just a job. It’s a feeling that you hold a fine line between compliance and violation, between comfort and harm. I like solving tasks where there are no emotions, only facts and the people who later use those facts.
Many people perceive environmental control as a formal procedure: come, measure, file papers. But you often say there is a story behind each measurement. Which one stands out the most?
There was a case with a house above a nightclub. People couldn’t sleep for months. Everyone said, “Oh, you’ll get used to it.” But my instrument showed an exceedance, and for them, it wasn’t just a number, it was proof of reality. After the documentation, they obtained noise restrictions, the law protected them. I saw their eyes when they got the result. At that moment I realized: measurement is not a procedure, it is sometimes the last hope.
You work only in Ukraine. Your geography ranges from private apartments to large industrial sites. Which is more difficult, large or small?
Large industrial sites are procedurally more complex; small ones are emotionally complex. In a factory, everything follows regulations: equipment, emission sources, standards. Lots of calculations, but clear what to do. With private clients, it’s always a story: “The child is coughing,” “The walls smell like paint,” “We are noisy, we can’t live.” You don’t just measure air—you help resolve a human conflict. Sometimes the instrument says “within norms,” but the smell is still present. You have to honestly explain: it’s safe, but not always comfortable.
You said no one in the company has a specialized degree. This sounds paradoxical. Why is that, and how do you train specialists?
Because practice is key, not the diploma. We teach people gradually: today you hold the device, tomorrow you calculate emissions, next month you prepare documents. Theory is needed, but it comes through work. In ecology, strangely enough, attentiveness is most important. You can have a diploma and make a simple calculation mistake, or without a diploma make an exact measurement. For me, the value is not the paper, but a person who can work with hands and head.
Over eight years, has the industry changed? Technologies, standards, client demands?
Not radically, slowly yes. European standards are slowly integrating, procedures are stricter. But paradoxically, Ukrainian norms are often stricter than European ones. Sometimes companies are surprised: “This would pass abroad, but not here,” but I see that as a plus. Strict standards discipline. Air is cleaner, and the city sleeps more peacefully.
You speak calmly, even when discussing complex situations. Must an environmental engineer be calm?
Accuracy requires calmness. Instruments don’t like emotions. If you’re irritated or rushed, you make mistakes. I learned to approach each site as a task: there is a source, you measure, there is data, you calculate. Only then comes the meaning. For example, you see no exceedances in an area. You realize the enterprise works correctly, people breathe clean air. Or the opposite—and then you are effectively recording a problem that was previously invisible.
You mentioned that orders can be unusual. What surprised you the most?
Once we were called to check “the air that smells like a past renovation.” People were sure something dangerous was hidden in the walls. We measured everything, the norms were perfect. I honestly told them: it’s safe, it’s just a paint smell, not toxicity. Sometimes our work destroys fears, sometimes confirms them.
With up to 60 clients per month, where is the boundary between business and mission?
If it were only business, I’d have burned out long ago. The mission is in the small details. When a business measures not “for the report,” but because it understands the necessity. When a nightclub reduces noise, not because forced, but because it understood the people above. Ecology is about dialogue. And we are the translators into the language of numbers.
What personally represents success in your work?
Clear results. When data is accurate, documents are correct, the client is satisfied and understands why everything is done. For someone, success is flashy projects. For me, quiet is enough; the best indicator of ecology. If the city sleeps peacefully, it means we did everything right.
