To navigate a calm sea at the beginning of the twentieth century was the destiny of the Titanic. A sea of progress and enviable technology, bearing the uniquely British mark of luxury and refinement, this ocean liner was legendary from the moment of its christening. It was the successful outcome of the economic strength of the British Empire, a special time, and flawless, invulnerable technology¹so it was believed. As Eschyle reminds us, "Intemperance, as it ripens, bears error for fruit and gives a harvest that is only tears."

The Titanic will not cruise through this sea; rather, it will be engulfed by its own faults. A pearl sinking through the depths of the ocean. This shipwreck marks an end, a voyage never completed. The tragedy fascinates us all as a symbol of the path that connects Europe to New York, the embodiment of the New World. Ninety years later, historians and scientists have reconstructed the main causes of the accident: design errors, human error, unfavourable weather conditions, and excessive speed, among others.

The positive side of what happened

With its first major catastrophes, the 20th century unravelled the idea that science can exist without failures and weaknesses. The sinking of the Titanic leaves a number of people in disbelief: our technological power and scientific assessments have their limits. Power also has its weaknesses. The most advanced technology cannot guarantee freedom from human tragedies; they may even provoke them. Total mastery doesn’t exist.

What’s worse is that our belief in infallibility can make us more vulnerable, and blind confidence and pride can lead to negligence. This shipwreck forces us to face what the philosopher and urban planner, Paul Virilio, calls the "medusa of progress." In this, he asserts that "accident, the hidden face of progress," must help us to accept the "negativity" of science to better protect ourselves from its harmful effects. Knowledge is also built from mistakes and failures.

Every technology has its catastrophe

It was also Virilio who first suggested how every technological discovery contains, ontologically, its own catastrophe: the shipwreck for the ocean liner, the crash for the supersonic jet, the explosion for the nuclear reactor, and genetic damage for cloning.

Because of their impact on our minds, accidents have become emblematic and a part of everyday language: "this society is worse that the Titanic" or "we're creating a Chernobyl" They haunt the human imagination like an alarm for our fears, and mistakes yet to be made; mistakes no longer local, but global. We recognise today how the Butterfly Effect and the domino effect demonstrate the interdependence that links humankind, its activities, its environment, and its destiny. Today, humans are confronted with global warming and worry about manipulating the blueprints for life. We fear accidents that are not merely epiphenomena, but planetary cataclysms.

Our modern society rejects risk. Yet, as Nietzsche once pointed out: Tragedy is a part of history, as it is the origin of Athenian democracy. Recognise that the tragic dimension of progress can at least enrich the debate on the principle of precaution. Let us accept our mistakes so we can learn from them, prevent new tragedies, and pursue the advancement of human knowledge.

Natacha Quester-Séméon and Jean-Rémi Deléage © 2003