The RMS Titanic sank after striking an iceberg in the frigid North Atlantic 100 years ago Sunday.
The saga of that massive vessel and its transatlantic tragedy continues to fascinate us a century later, in part because the Titanic symbolizes both the height of human ambition and the elevated risk associated with chasing big dreams.
While technology and culture have evolved exponentially since 1912, the spirit of adventure that propelled the Titanic’s voyage endures to this day. “Titanic” film director James Cameron’s recent solo descent to the bottom of the Mariana Trench, the deepest known point of the oceans’ floor, demonstrates that modern adventurers continue to push their limits in the name of exploring new frontiers and broadening the human experience.
Likewise, rapid-fire advances in virtual communication and scientific research represent modern manifestations of the Titanic spirit. Instead of crossing oceans on gigantic liners, humans able to take advantage of technological advances now connect instantly via Internet. The surface world has changed, but the underlying, intangible human characteristics that spur innovation in the name of advancing civilization haven’t.
Similarly, the social stratification that placed a few elite Titanic passengers in luxury suites and relegated poor emigrants to steerage lingers. A hundred years of commercial and technological progress has, if anything, only widened the gulf between global haves and global have-nots. A century eliminated intercontinental travel barriers, but not class boundaries.
On the matter of risk, the Titanic paradigm lingers. Charged with optimism fueled by how big and powerful technology lets mere mortals feel, we continue to embark on profit-motivated journeys without adequately preparing ourselves for the inherent risks.
Evidence that the quest for plentiful energy, cheap manufacturing materials and mineral riches still blinds us to the metaphorical icebergs that threaten titanic disasters can be found in, among other places, Wiscasset and baby bottles.
The Bangor Daily News reported earlier this week that Maine Yankee spends nearly $10 million a year to maintain spent nuclear fuel rods near the decommissioned atomic power plant in Wiscasset. The federal government and nuclear energy industry have yet to settle on a national repository for spent nuclear fuel, and there’s serious doubt that a solution to the national problem of dealing safely with radioactive refuse from power plants will emerge before the 64 dry casks storing potentially life-threatening nuclear materials in Wiscasset prove problematic. That’s one big iceberg.
Factoring in the 2011 Fukushima reactor breach and similar high-risk scenarios throws more icebergs into the treacherous path we navigate with atomic power.
Toxic chemicals in consumer products, especially those used by children, represent another risk that another elitist group — in this case, Congress — seems bent on ignoring because prudent steps to protect public safety might impede a grand voyage toward big profits.
Congress’ dragged-out refusal to revise the desperately outdated Toxic Substances Control Act and exert federal authority to shield the public — children, specifically — from Bisphenol A and other chemicals that credible research indicates could prove harmful equates to plunging headfirst into an oncoming iceberg.
Denying risks that we can readily identify dooms us to foolishly repeat a 100-year-old mistake.
letters@timesrecord.com
Comments are not available on this story. Read more about why we allow commenting on some stories and not on others.
We believe it's important to offer commenting on certain stories as a benefit to our readers. At its best, our comments sections can be a productive platform for readers to engage with our journalism, offer thoughts on coverage and issues, and drive conversation in a respectful, solutions-based way. It's a form of open discourse that can be useful to our community, public officials, journalists and others.
We do not enable comments on everything — exceptions include most crime stories, and coverage involving personal tragedy or sensitive issues that invite personal attacks instead of thoughtful discussion.
You can read more here about our commenting policy and terms of use. More information is also found on our FAQs.
Show less