What actually happened as the Titanic sank
“No woman shall be left aboard this ship because Ben Guggenheim was a coward”.
“In the movie, as the ship is sinking the first-class passengers (all third-class human beings) scramble to climb into the small number of life-boats.”
I’m sure most people would recognise the scene.
First-hand Eyewitness Accounts
The quote at the start was taken from a book review in the New York Times back in 1998.
He said that according to survivors’ account:
In first class:
- every child was saved,
- as were all but five (of 144) women, three of whom chose to die with their husbands
By contrast:
- 70 percent of the men perished.
In second-class:
- 80 percent of the women were saved but
- 90 percent of the men drowned.
The men in first-class were basically the richest people in the world.
John Jacob Astor, reputedly the richest man of his day, is said to have fought his way to a boat, put his wife in it and then stepped back and waved her goodbye.
Likewise:
Benjamin Guggenheim similarly refused to take a seat, saying: ‘’Tell my wife . . . I played the game out straight and to the end. No woman shall be left aboard this ship because Ben Guggenheim was a coward.’’
Then comes what is one of the most incisive (or damning?) statements:
“The movie makers altered the story for good reason: no one would believe it today.”
Virtue Ethics
In my Philosophy degree we studied two approaches to ethics:
1) Deontology — doing what we ought to do
2) Consequentialism — doing something because it brings good outcomes.
An example for point 1 would be: if lying is wrong, then even if the outcome is good, you should not lie despite the cost.
An example for point 2 would be: lying can be right, even though it does harm on various counts, if the result of making that lie brings so much good that it outweighs the bad.
But we all perhaps felt a bit defrauded to find much later in the degree, that Aristotle shed countless ink on a ‘third’ branch:
3) Virtue ethics — a virtuous person is most likely to do what is right.
What is virtue?
What We Expect of Politicians
A prominent British politician writes in this blog that politicians in the past were marked by several qualities:
- Virtuous and philosophical (Aristotle)
- Led people to victory (Caesar, Edward I, Henry V)
- Destroying a corrupt old state (European revolutions in the 18–19th centuries).
Many of the Members of Parliament (MPs) in the UK were not paid until the 1940s.
But, that author notices:
“Our politicians have become paid professionals.”
During the Covid 19 pandemic, many politicians in power in the UK broke the lockdown rules that they themselves have set forth. The media circulated hair-raising photos and evidence of their misdeeds.
George Santos, former congressman in the US, lied his way into the halls of Congress. He cheated the government out of unemployment benefits whilst clearly employed, funneled campaign funds into his personal accounts, and overstated his income in the House of Representatives — as alleged by the Department of Justice.
The Self
In his book The Real American Dream: A Meditation on Hope, Andrew Delbanco sets out the history of thought of the US in 3 branches:
1) “God”, from Puritan New England to the rise of democracy,
2) “Nation”, from the rise of democracy until the Great Society visions after World War II, and
3) “Self”, from the Great Society to the present time.
Compared to the two other branches, the self has the smallest horizon, and the goal is vanishingly small to sustain the US’s communal vision.
Perhaps the easiest way is to show some slogans familiar to us:
As a result, we expect very little of politicians, people in power, or really anyone at all.
The author of the Titanic review in NYT concluded:
“Today, by contrast, we expect very little of those in positions of power — whether they are Presidents or tycoons or movie stars — and they rarely disappoint us.”
Sacrifice
But the author of that review also mentioned a monument:
“Near East Potomac Park in Washington there stands a haunting monument, a statue of a man with arms outstretched, Christlike, with an inscription on its pedestal: ‘To the brave men of the Titanic, who gave their lives that women and children might be saved.’ ”
I don’t know whether the individual people on the boat had a personal faith. But the prevailing moral culture — the unwritten code of honour that says it’s more important to leave the boats’ seats to the women and children — was strongly shaped by Christianity in the west. Its founder:
“came not to serve but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many”.
The outstretched arms were, of course, a hinted reference to the crucifixion which he subjected himself to.
Perhaps the statue suggests that each of those who gave their lives in the Titanic was a pale imitation of the one who first gave his life and so gave life to others.
If he didn’t first give his life, not many on The Titanic would’ve had the idea — or the moral strength — to give theirs.
