Jennifer O’Connell: Submersible gripped world’s attention but sunken migrant boat made us look away

Why is it that we can barely look away from some maritime tragedies, while we can hardly bear to look at others?

Two stories of lives lost at sea 10 days apart dominated the news over the last week. The first involved the lonely, desperate deaths of approximately 750 people, who drowned off the coast of Greece in only one of the most recent in a grim and growing catalogue of migrant boat tragedies.

At least 350 were from Pakistan; the rest came from Egypt, Syria, Afghanistan and Palestine. They were so anxious to get to Europe and build a better lives for themselves that they undertook the journey in an unseaworthy fishing vessel, some of them paying up $14,000 for the privilege. They made it to 50 miles off the Greek coast before the boat capsized and they drowned.

The second tragedy, a few days later, involved a group of five explorers whose submersible vanished while on a deep-sea expedition to the Titanic. It is no denigration of their memory to point out that they were people of vast wealth who died in pursuit of adventure or a once-in-lifetime experience.

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It is not actually true, of course, that both tragedies dominated the news cycle. One of them was reasonably widely covered for a day or two; the other became the biggest news event of the summer so far.

[ 'It's probably a mercy': Titan sub would have imploded instantly, says expert ]

[ Greek coast guard under scrutiny over response to migrant ship sinking ]

The chasm in the response to the two events almost a week apart – the contrast in the level of public interest; the resources offered to the rescue teams; the desire to know more about the victims and the circumstances – was stark, disquieting and, as the days rolled by, increasingly uncomfortable.

We couldn’t stop watching the Titan rescue mission. During the period between Sunday and Thursday, when it seemed there really was a chance of a happier ending, news organisations offered rolling liveblogs; 3D diagrams of the interior of the vessel; moving graphics showing just how deep it would have travelled; descriptions of the cramped conditions inside; explanations of the level of discomfort the passengers might have been feeling.

There was a hint of eyebrow-raising at the hubris of it all: several articles pointed to the price of tickets for a spin on the Titan at $250,000 a pop.

Then, when it was clear what had happened, that it had imploded shortly after losing contact, there were graphic descriptions of the moment of impact, when the crushing of the pressure of the abyss caused the submersible to self-destruct: “an extremely violent event – like 10 cases of dynamite going off” was how Titanic director, James Cameron, put it. Yes, there was a Hollywood subtext throughout.

The public and media interest was understandable. The story of the Titan offered a compelling narrative coupled with an uncertain outcome. It lent itself to video explainers and graphics. There was a clock ticking away in the background; hour-by-hour updates about how much oxygen they might have had left. And, for a time it offered hope, in the form of those mysterious sounds that boomed in the depths of the ocean at regular intervals of 30 minutes. It had all the trappings of a movie, apart from the tragic ending. And yes, I was as gripped as anyone.

Migrant boat tragedies, meanwhile, are horribly, grimly routine, distinguishable only in terms of the death toll. The Mediterranean is now a vast oceanic cemetery; more than 1,200 people died in its waters in 2022 alone. This tragedy was remarkable for its unprecedented scale, but it offered no hope of redemption. Stories of drowning refugees do not lend themselves to the kind of simple answers to complex questions the media tend to hone in on.

The comparative lack of attention compared to the story of the Titan doesn’t mean that the public is callous. It might mean that many of us are suffering from compassion fatigue or psychic numbing. It’s simply too much misery to take on.

[ At least 78 dead, hundreds feared missing after overcrowded boat sinks off Greek coast ]

[ Inside the Titan: A tight fit and a view from a single porthole ]

If the discrepancy had just been in the public interest and media coverage, that would be one thing. But it also applied to the resources that poured into the rescue missions. France sent specialist help in form of the Atalante, a ship equipped with a deep-sea diving vessel to help search for the Titan. Greece, its fellow EU member state, was criticised for its coastguard not acting fast enough to help the people on the stricken boat in the Mediterranean; it responded by saying the people on board had refused help.

As it became apparent there were no survivors of the Titan tragedy, the search for someone to blame began immediately. In the Greek boat tragedy, there will be no such push for accountability, because that would lead to places few have the appetite to go.

The truth is that none of us wants to talk about the deeper causes of the rise in perilous migrant crossings: things like conflict, poverty, food insecurity, climate, religious persecution or the EU’s failure to deal with irregular migration. At least, not when we can talk about what the Titanic director made of the composition of the hull of the submersible.

In the coverage of the Titan rescue mission, a few people made the point that resonance with the Titanic itself seemed almost poetic. But it was a different kind of echo that struck me. One of the facts about the sinking of the Titanic that fascinates and horrifies schoolchildren when they first encounter it is how those in steerage were left to drown, while the first-class passengers entered lifeboats, some with seats to spare.

When we tell our children these stories, we explain that this could never happen now, that we live in more enlightened times; that all lives are equally cherished in this modern, progressive society. And then we scroll quickly past the story of the 750 people who drowned in the Mediterranean.

We may not use terms like “third-class passengers” any more, but we have different ways of othering the victims of the Greek shipwreck – we use words like “migrant” or “refugee”. Anything but people dreaming of a better life.