Reel Rundown: OceanGate documentary paints obvious conclusion: Egotism leads to folly and, in this case, tragedy

You have to scroll down to find it, but one of the dictionary definitions of the word “titan” is “a person or thing of enormous size, strength, power, influence, etc.”

That description clearly describes OceanGate co-founder and CEO Stockton Rush. Yet as anyone who watches the Netflix documentary feature “Titan: The OceanGate Disaster” is likely to think, the “etc.” as applied to Rush should include the word “arrogance.”

Directed by the veteran director/producer Mark Monroe, the Netflix documentary is an examination of the saga behind the Titan submersible that imploded on June 18, 2023, while on a dive to explore the wreck of the famed liner Titanic.

If you need a reminder, the Titan was a unique deep-sea diving vessel that was designed and built by Rush’s Everett, Washington-based company. On June 18th news broke internationally that a “loud bang” was heard by people monitoring the diving operation. Communication at roughly the same time had broken off between the submersible and its support ship.

A rescue operation was immediately put in place. And for the next four days, military forces from the United States and Canada searched for what officials hoped would be an intact vessel. As director Monroe emphasizes, the story made headlines worldwide. Upping the creep factor, one channel even began running a clock that noted when the Titan would run out of air.

It was on June 22 that the bad news was announced: Debris from the Titan had been discovered near the wreck of the Titanic itself. Five people, including Rush, were presumed dead.

Like any good journalist, Monroe interviews a number of people who worked directly on the project with Rush. An ambitious entrepreneur, Rush had sought to develop and then test a unique type of submersible. He was convinced his design, made from lightweight blend of carbon-fiber material and titanium, would garner him the same kind of adulation that, say, Elon Musk has earned through his efforts with SpaceX.

But in the case of Rush, the comparison between him and anyone else ended when the carbon-fiber vessel imploded at a depth of more than 12,000 feet. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t been warned of the inherent danger.

Over the years of development, Rush’s team endured a number of staff turnovers. Even while working with groups such as the University of Washington’s Applied Physics Laboratory and Boeing, and seeking assistance from the veteran Paul-Henri Nargeolet – who was one of the passengers on that final fateful dive – Rush was repeatedly advised that the Titan design, especially the use of carbon fiber, wasn’t safe.

Still, he powered on, insisting that the Titan was dependable and – despite several failed tests – refusing to submit the vessel for certification by any outside agencies. He worked in international waters so as to avoid federal regulations and, worse, threated to ruin his detractors with lawsuits.

Among those whom Monroe interviews is David Lochridge, OceanGate’s director of marine operations, who left the company after arguing with Rush about Titan’s safety. One of the film’s most telling moments comes when Lochridge relates how he had to step in when Rush, acting as pilot on an earlier dive off the coast of Nantucket, nearly got the Titan stuck on the wreck of the liner Andrea Doria.

In the end, Monroe’s film leads to an obvious, if tragic conclusion: Rush’s blend of egotism and misplaced self-assurance led him to believe that diving in the Titan was, as he claimed, “obscenely safe.” What’s ironic is that his statement mirrors the sentiments of the builders of the Titanic itself.

You may recall that they boasted their luxury liner was “unsinkable.” The deaths of some 1,517 people proved otherwise.