When We Stop Listening

Last week I watched a documentary about the 2023 OceanGate Titan submersible disaster.

I love documentaries because they rarely focus only on the event itself. The engineering, the timeline, the facts—all of that matters. But what fascinates me most is the human element behind major events. Decisions. Personalities. Leadership dynamics. The small moments that eventually add up to something historic… or in this case, catastrophic.

In June of 2023, an experimental submarine operated by OceanGate made world news when it imploded during a dive to the wreck of the Titanic, killing everyone on board—including Stockton Rush, OceanGate’s CEO and the driving force behind the project.

As investigators reconstructed the disaster, a pattern began to emerge. Engineers and experts had repeatedly raised serious concerns about the design of the sub—particularly the idea of using a carbon fiber pressure hull. Some warned that the material could fail unpredictably under repeated deep-sea pressure cycles.

But those warnings were dismissed.

Over time, contrary voices were treated less like wisdom and more like obstacles. Experts and key engineers walked away from the project entirely. Others were pushed aside.

A few days after watching this documentary, I came across these words in Proverbs chapter 12:

“The way of fools seems right to them, but the wise listen to advice.
Fools show their annoyance at once, but the prudent overlook an insult.”
— Proverbs 12:15–16

The tragedy of Titan wasn’t simply a technological failure.

It was also a leadership failure.

At some point, Stockton Rush had simply become right in his own eyes. And when that happens, something predictable follows. Dissent becomes irritating. Warnings feel like attacks. Contrary viewpoints begin to feel like threats to the mission rather than contributions to it.

Proverbs describes this dynamic with uncomfortable clarity:

“The way of fools seems right to them…”

None of us set out to become that person. But it happens slowly. The more responsibility we carry, the easier it becomes to trust our own instincts above the counsel of others. The longer we pursue a vision, the harder it becomes to entertain the possibility that something about it might be wrong.

Another dynamic was also quietly at work in the Titan story: the sunk cost fallacy.

By the time of the disaster, years of time, enormous financial investment, and a great deal of personal credibility had been poured into the design of that carbon fiber hull. Walking away from it would have required Rush to admit that the entire approach may have been flawed from the beginning.

Evidently, that reality was too much for him to concede.

Let’s face it—admitting our idea might be flawed is one of the hardest things any leader can do.

The more invested we become in an idea, the harder it becomes to let it go—even when the evidence begins to point in another direction.

But Scripture offers a very different picture of wisdom.

The wise listen.

Wisdom is not measured by how confident we are in our conclusions. It is measured by how willing we are to let others challenge them.

Healthy leaders don’t silence dissent. They invite it. They surround themselves with people who are willing to ask hard questions and speak uncomfortable truths.

Because sometimes the voice that frustrates us the most may also be the voice that protects us.

That’s true in engineering.

It’s true in organizations.

And it’s certainly true in our inner lives.

God often speaks through the voices we are most tempted to dismiss.

So perhaps the better question for us this week is not whether we are right.

The better question is:

When someone challenges us… do we listen, or do we lash out?