A friend of mine opened a conversation the other day about the investigation into the catastrophic failure of the Titan submersible. Why, he questioned, is there a big need to know about the failure mechanisms, and why should the taxpayer foot the bill for any extensive investigation? I think those are both decent questions.

The Titan has been described as “experimental” and “McGivered”. It wasn’t built to any regulatory requirements and it hadn’t gone through any sort of certification process. It isn’t a prototype of any sort of research vessel, and it’s not similar enough to any other vessel in service to warrant an extensive investigation, or at least that’s my understanding. Its failure reveals nothing about a shortcoming in the certification process nor about a latent flaw in the design of any other submersible that might pose a risk to other deep-sea divers.

The Titan was owned and operated by OceanGate Inc and its principle owner, Stockton Rush, who died in the Titan. The heirs to the company might have an interest in carrying out an expensive recovery and research program if only to defend themselves against a possible flood of liability lawsuits. There has been a rush of post-event criticism that indicates that the company may have been vulnerable to lawsuits, but that’s surely an issue for his heirs, not for the public.

Yes, five people died in that vessel and that’s a tragic thing. But we’ve probably spent ten times, or even a hundred times as much on the Titan rescue and investigation as we’ll spend on the Manitoba bus crash that took the lives of 16 seniors the same week as the Titan went down. Some sense of perspective is required.

The Polar Prince, the support ship for the Titan, is registered in Canada and the fateful voyage departed from St. John’s, so perhaps there is reason for the Transportation Safety Board to take a look at whether adequate regulatory safeguards are in place to prevent repeat occurrences. And the RCMP are investigating to determine if there was anything criminal about the actions of the people who operate the Polar Prince support vessel. OK, I guess we should confirm that there were no corners cut in towing the doomed out to their destiny.  But sweeping the ocean floor 4 km beneath the surface to bring up debris and try to understand the failure mechanism? I don’t see the point.

There is a good story online from Thomas Bywater in the New Zealand Herald. He writes “OceanGate’s Titanic dives began as a NOAA-accredited oceanographic survey, mapping the wreck. When Oceangate launched its paid missions to the Titanic in 2021 it began advertising for what it euphemistically termed “mission specialists” to join their expeditions aboard Titan. Seats were reserved for these “specialists” whose main qualifications were being able to afford the $250,000 trip…. In an advert for the 2021 dive, OceanGate calls for “citizen scientists” to help conservation efforts document the wreck “before she’s gone forever”. Whatever the tourists’ motives there was a real scientific value to the mission, and real danger…. If there’s one thing adventure tourists despise most, it’s being considered a “tourist”.

I would have to take issue with the statement that there was real scientific value to the Titan dive missions. The Titanic went down over a hundred years ago. There may be a certain amount of vulgar curiosity about where she sits now, some 4 km down, but I see little scientific benefit from studying where she lies. What really happened here is that a bunch of billionaires who could afford the adrenaline rush of going into dangerous places lost their last bet. It deserves little more than a shake of the head and a “that’s too bad” from the rest of us, doesn’t it? 

There is a point of view that says that if your idea of a good time is to go out and risk your life, you shouldn’t expect the rest of us to chip in for the cost of the mission to save you. But perhaps that point of view is rather simplistic. 

Hamish Harding, who died on the Titan “mission” was also a passenger on the Blue Origin (Jeff Bezos) space “mission”. He also holds a world record for the fastest airplane trip around the world on the north/south axis crossing both poles. I heard an interview on CBC in which he was described as a really engaging and popular man with an insatiable thirst for adventure. But it’s hard for us to connect with him, isn’t it? We can’t imagine spending a $1.25M for a trip into space, nor $250K for a dive down to the seabed. 

In fact, though, Hamish Harding and the others on the Titan are the leading edge of an adventure tourism industry that was worth $800 B in 2019. Adventure tourism took an enormous hit from the Covid pandemic, slumping to $282B in 2021, but it is projected to recover to be more than a $1 trillion industry by 2030. And the problem is, there’s no clear threshold of risk where we can say “we’re helping these people, but those guys are on their own”. The adventure tourism industry covers a broad spectrum of activities, from “soft adventures” like hiking, fishing, biking and camping to more dangerous pastimes like rock climbing, spelunking, sky-diving, bungee jumping, jungle safaris and polar expeditions. At a trillion dollars, it’s an industry that needs support and respect – it becomes an important part of the economy for some regions. So, when we hear that search and rescue operations are underway to recover people who have ventured too far in a small boat, or wandered into bad avalanche conditions, or fell and hurt themselves high in the mountains… well, that’s part of the cost of having a successful adventure tourism industry.

My conclusion? We shouldn’t quibble about the costs of search and rescue operations. If people’s health and safety are at risk, we should go and help. We should, however, consider regulations on adventure businesses to ensure that they are doing a reasonable job of managing the safety aspect of their business. 

And as for the Titan? Forget it. Someone else’s mistake and fundamentally none of our business, so spend as little on it as we can get away with.