Committed To the Deepest Of Depths

In the midst of routine, we often forget how many risks we take on a daily basis.

The five lives lost aboard Titan (clockwise): Hamish Harding (58), Shahzada Dawood (48), Suleman Dawood (19), Stockton Rush (61), Paul-Henri Nargeolet (77). Source

By now, most of you have heard the news concerning the submersible Titan, which dove into the deep Atlantic Ocean waters to the east of Newfoundland and Nova Scotia on June 18 to explore the wreckage of RMS Titanic, the famed ocean liner which sunk in 1912 and took the lives of over 1,500 with it. If you haven’t heard it, the wreckage of Titan was discovered on June 22 by a remotely-operated underwater vehicle. The conclusion was reached the vessel had imploded due to the immense pressures of the depths involved, instantly killing all five occupants aboard. The news comes after days of searching and hopes, however fleeting, that they were stranded, but alive.

The only consolation is that the five likely died rapid, painless deaths. At the depths Titan likely imploded, they would’ve been crushed too quickly to even have a chance to be aware of what was about to happen to them. Unfortunately, it’s just as likely they were aware there was a problem and, unless the vessel suffered a catastrophic failure without warning, that probably was the case. In times like these, I can only wonder what their final thoughts were. I hope they weren’t horrible thoughts, but I can’t be sure.

In the days and weeks to come, there will be investigations and a seemingly endless stream of commentary on this tragedy. Given how outside my lane it is, I don’t have much to offer beyond my condolences. But the big reason I was compelled to write about it is public reaction. I don’t want to spend too much time talking about it, because the cynical and nihilistic nature of it all is too much to bear, but there have been a not-insignificant number of people who have condemned the five victims to their fates. If you want to know what I’m talking about, feel free to search for it; I’m not going to dignify the bastards (excuse my language) by posting any of their ghoulish, sub-human takes here. I’ll also try to save you the trouble: the condemnation comes down to the fact they were White (two were of Pakistani descent), wealthy, and male. In 2023, any one of those three characteristics is enough to convict you. Of what? I have no clue. But it’ll get you convicted.

Yes, I’m aware of the spotty safety record of OceanGate, the company which operated Titan. Yes, I’m aware of it’s CEO, Stockton Rush, who was aboard Titan when it imploded, is on record with an alarmingly cavalier attitude towards safety. There’s going to be a reckoning when it’s all said and done and, with all due respect for the men and women who work for OceanGate, I’m not sure the company deserves to exist after this incident. What we discover after these “accidents” is that these weren’t accidents at all. We call them that, but the truth is, they’re more avoidable than we think. Robert Ballard, the famed explorer who discovered Titanic back in 1985, says here in an interview that this is the first loss of a deep-sea submersible in history, a fact which floored me:

I think the evidence will show this wasn’t a matter of running out of luck. That said, even with rigorous implementation to safety standards and best practices, I would still never venture that far down deep. But ask yourself: if you were had the money, would you not be willing to partake in what you considered exciting, if dangerous, activity for the thrill of it? If going down to see the wreckage of Titanic became as safe as flying has become, how many of you would pass up the opportunity? I think a significant number of people would take up the offer if that were the case.

Again, I wouldn’t go deep-sea diving to view wreckage. But if I had the money, do you know what I’d do? Skydiving. BASE jumping. Fly fighter jets. Even fly in space. Yes, I might die. But I’d be willing to take the risk, as long as it was under the watchful eye of competent, safety-minded people. Life is too short and frankly, too boring, to play it 100% safe all the time. In the midst of routine, we often forget how many risks we take on a daily basis. Robert Ballard, in the same interview, remarks that, up until the loss of Titan, diving in a deep-sea submersible was safer than driving on a freeway.

Individually, our risk-tolerance varies. There are risks I’m willing to take others aren’t. Likewise, others are willing to take risks I deem completely irrational and not worthwhile. In that sense, nobody’s really braver or more foolish than anyone else. But I also believe some people are wiser than others. Thinking yourself as invincible, as this OceanGate CEO seemingly did, based on his past comments and practices, is the definition of foolishness. On some level, I can understand why some people felt this was a deserved end for him, if not the others who went on the ride.

At the same time, him being White, male, and wealthy isn’t why this happened. You can just sense the hatred and resentment in those who say so. Besides, the critics aren’t exactly the risk-averse type themselves, either. They just take different risks. These are the same people who think driving recklessly, committing crime, resisting arrest, or pranking strangers (something I’ve wrote about extensively here on this blog) are all entirely acceptable risks they ought to be able to get away with. As they condemn the five souls aboard Titan, just look at whom they choose instead to mourn: a career criminal who commits theft, takes a fatal dose of drugs, and dies in police custody, or a Michael Jackson impersonator who also assaults and terrorizes. This is whom they reserve their empathy for. Whom a person reserves their empathy for says a lot about what’s going on in their hearts and minds.

Once more, going that deep to see the wreckage of Titanic isn’t a risk I’m willing to take, even under the best of conditions. But it’s an understandable risk. The human possesses built-in survival instincts, but it also possesses a yearning for something greater than ourselves. Sometimes, that yearning manifests itself in wonderful ways, often times, it manifests in unpleasant ways. But it’s there. Without it, the New World never gets discovered and the greatest civilization known to humanity is never built. Without it, we never leave the planet and put a man on the moon. A world worth living in is built by people willing to risk it all in doing so.

I don’t want to go as far as to suggest these five men died for some great cause. Their deaths, to be blunt, were senseless and avoidable. But negligent as it was, unacceptably risky as it was, these men were merely living their lives, living out their dreams, the same way many of us would if given the same opportunities. Those who aren’t White, male, and wealthy take all sorts of risks and indulge in all sorts of behavior that ought to draw judgment and scorn. “Don’t judge lest you be judged” rings true here. And, no, I don’t see any equivalency between this tragedy and the sinking of the boats carrying migrants across the Mediterranean Sea, a comparison some attempted to make. Given the consequences of mass illegal migration, I can’t say I have too much empathy for them. At least the five who died aboard Titan took down nobody except themselves.

If it’s difficult to empathize with the dead, maybe it’ll be easier to empathize with the living. Dr. Michael Guillen took a trip down to the wreckage of Titanic in 2000 and almost got stranded at the bottom. He talks about his experiences in two separate interviews in the couple days prior to the discovery of Titan’s own wreckage. I highly recommend you watch the interviews; its an emotional story, one Guillen has to fight through tears in order to tell.

Here’s the interview he did with Piers Morgan:

Here’s one he did for Good Morning Britain:

Was Dr. Guillen foolish too? Did he “deserve” this terrifying experience? If he’d died, would he and the other occupants have gotten what was coming to them? And if your answer to any of those questions is “yes,” would you have the guts to say that to his face? If so, don’t worry about making anyone believe you’re a “good person.”

I for one am glad Dr. Guillen lived to be able to tell this story, one so clearly personal for him. It’s unfortunate he had to face his worst fears again by bearing witness to the fate of the men aboard Titan. By telling his story, he puts a starkly human face on this tragedy, underscoring that these are humans with hopes, dreams, and a longing who died. The risk may not make sense to us, but it meant something to them.

In closing, I want to offer a prayer to the five men whose souls now rest at the bottom of the Atlantic, along with all those who perished on Titanic over a century ago. I’ve never shared this fact about me before, but I was once made a living on the seas. Having looked out that vast ocean in both sunlight and darkness, I can tell you, there’s nothing more beautiful, yet frightening, to witness. It’s when you’re struck by the reality of your irrelevance and vulnerability. If you fall into those waters, unless someone happened to see you just as you fell overboard, you’re likely not coming out. That’s just how it is. It’s a dose of humility I’ve yet to find anywhere else in life. Yet it’s a thought that’s liberating as it is sobering. Once you come to terms with your irrelevance and vulnerability, you learn there isn’t as much to be afraid of in this world than you thought.

I’m not a prayer person, but this is one I recited to myself on occasion when I felt the seas might overwhelm me. It’s the first stanza of “Eternal Father, Strong to Save,” the hymn of seafarers. As the five men are now committed to the deepest of depths, may others on the seas be spared as cruel a fate.

Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bid'st the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep;
O hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea.

UPDATE: Commenter and subscriber “Reckoning” had a critical take on the coverage of the Titan disaster that didn’t involve maligning the identities of the victims:

I have mixed feelings on this. I discussed this with my wife and kids and it seems to have struck a chord in a way other tragedies don’t.

I think much of the public reaction is based on the outsized role CEOs and billionaires play in our society. Think of the idolatry of Forbes and Fortune covers, the influence on governments, Bill Gates playing immunologist... and then with Theranos and OceanGate they revel themselves to be fools.

These guys were basically doing adventure tourism LARPing as explorers. There doesn’t seem to be any scholarly or other value in taking those risks. It’s like climbing Mount Everest at this point. A risky endeavour that doesn’t impress anyone.

I think that’s a fair argument. It also answers the question as to why it struck such a chord with the public. Deep sea diving isn’t something most people will do in their lives and there’s something particularly frightening about dying underwater, at such great depths. It’s the same reason why space disasters will inevitably draw the public’s attention, even though the first man flew into space over 60 years ago. Likewise, stories like the Chilean miners being stuck underground for 69 days back in 2010, the disappearance of Malaysian Airlines Flight 370 in 2014, and the 13 who were trapped inside a flooded cave in Thailand in 2018 all drew tremendous public interest, due to the extraordinary nature of the events, while being otherwise mundane.

It’s the struggle, against nature, against time, against incredible odds, that draws people to these stories. Everyone, even the sick, depraved individuals who used the tragedy to indulge their grievances and resentments (including former President Barack Obama), would’ve preferred the five passengers survived, if only so it’d be easier to make light of.

For the halfway-decent, these stories offer hope, now long since dashed in the case of the Titan five, that we can overcome. That there’s nothing stronger than the human spirit. Unfortunately, as we discovered, nature always has the final say.

Max Remington writes about armed conflict and prepping. Follow him on Twitter at @AgentMax90.

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