The words “missing submarine” grabbed my attention instantly — the first, cryptic reports last week of the unexplained disappearance of the Titan, a small submersible with five people aboard on a dive to view the wreckage of the HMS Titanic on the Atlantic Ocean floor.

There’s a natural kinship among submariners — I was one, long ago — so when the word gets out that one of our own is in trouble, it hits close to home.

To anyone remotely familiar with undersea realities, the Titan’s situation looked bleak from the start: a tiny craft, more than two miles below the surface (far deeper than U.S. Navy subs operate), abruptly out of contact. Even if found to be intact, prospects for rescue of its trapped occupants at that depth would be practically nil.

Those dour expectations were confirmed five days later, when it was revealed that the Titan had imploded during its initial descent, crushed in the vice grip of sea water pressure (almost 6,000 pounds per square inch that deep in the ocean), instantly extinguishing all life within — a devastating but merciful end.

And, of course, that grim news was followed by a torrent of “expert” analysis telling us how absolutely predictable this tragedy was and how the myriad of design errors and corner-cutting and reckless disregard for safety by OceanGate, the company that built and operated the Titan, doomed the passengers. Hindsight is always 20/20.

Were the deaths aboard the Titan caused by actionable negligence? Or by bad luck in a hostile environment that leaves no room for bad luck? It’s far too soon to render that judgment. Nevertheless, there will be accusations, lawsuits, and demands for remedial action and perhaps even punishment.

But as we wait for all of that to play out, let me venture a few opinions — with confidence that they will hold up regardless of the coming revelations. These are:

1.) The Titan tragedy is hardly a disaster in the usual sense of an unforeseen circumstance harming unsuspecting victims. Rather, it was the unfortunate but not uncommon fate that befalls adventuresome persons who willingly choose to take on significant risks. The five Titan fatalities are fewer than the number of lives lost each year attempting to climb Mount Everest, none of whom would have died if they’d just stayed home.

Firefighters, mountain climbers, fighter pilots, skydivers, race car drivers, and astronauts are among the many who choose lifestyles that would terrify most of us for their own satisfaction or the benefit of others. They confront those risks with eyes open and no guarantees. Stockton Rush — the OceanGate CEO and Titan’s pilot — and the four passengers who joined him on that fateful voyage all fit that mold. Hats off to each.

2.) The Titan’s tragic end raises legitimate questions about the advisability of undersea or space “tourism.” Ventures into places that are both intrinsically hostile to human life and not readily accessible for rescue (deep ocean and outer space as obvious examples) are uniquely dangerous. It seems logical to assume that those who choose and can afford to pursue such opportunities recognize that there is nothing routine or demonstrably “safe” about either. And while lawyers are likely to argue that the Titan’s high-paying passengers were hoodwinked by Mr. Rush’s braggadocio, I’d guess they were much more influenced by his personal presence on the mission.

3.) As a related matter, OceanGate has been heavily criticized because it intentionally avoided regulatory oversight and certification of its self-created submersible. But certified for what, and by whom, and on what basis? There is no regulatory authority for deep ocean exploration on the high seas. More importantly, imposing certification and regulatory oversight of experimental activity would be more likely to prevent exploration than to assure its safety.

The Titan was not like a commercial aircraft; it posed no threat to the public at large. But lessons learned and corrective actions are valuable in any field, and objective scrutiny by others with comparable experience could avoid tragic mistakes. A voluntary oversight structure, perhaps modeled on FAA regulation of experimental aircraft, would be well worth the added challenge of undersea exploration whether for profit or not.

The bottom line: Courage and audacity — enhanced with equal measures of vision, innovation, and commitment — are very real virtues, and they are in very short supply. Where would civilization be without the enormous contributions of the likes of Magellan, Columbus, the Wright brothers, Chuck Yeager, and the Apollo astronauts?

There will always be a crying need for leaders willing to brush aside the doubts — including their own — and forge ahead. Sometimes they fail. When they do, they still deserve respect, not postmortem disapproval or ridicule.