As the world watched a tense, urgent search unfold in the vast, dark waters of the North Atlantic for a submersible carrying five people on an expedition to the wreck of the Titanic, a secondary drama played out across social media platforms, highlighting the complex intersection of personal grief, public scrutiny, and digital life. At the center of this digital tempest stood Brian Szasz, the stepson of British billionaire Hamish Harding, who was one of the passengers aboard the missing vessel.
Harding, a renowned adventurer with multiple Guinness World Records for feats such as the longest duration at full ocean depth, was among those on the Titan submersible, owned by OceanGate Expeditions. The vessel lost contact shortly after beginning its descent on Sunday morning, June 18. It was designed with a theoretical 96-hour supply of breathable air for emergency scenarios, setting a grim deadline for rescue efforts that captured global attention.
Amidst the intense search and rescue mission involving assets from the U.S. and Canada, and with hopes buoyed at one point by reports of “rhythmic tapping” sounds detected underwater, Brian Szasz, residing in San Diego, found himself facing an unexpected wave of public attention for his actions during this period of uncertainty. He decided to attend a concert by the band Blink-182, a choice he documented on social media.
On Monday evening, Brian Szasz tweeted directly at the core members of Blink-182 – Tom DeLonge, Travis Barker, and Mark Hoppus. In his message, he openly shared his personal connection to the unfolding crisis, stating, “My stepfather, Hamish, is on the submarine lost at sea.” He conveyed his emotional state, writing, “I am devastated,” and explained his decision to attend the concert: “I am coming to the San Diego show tonight so that you guys can give me hope and cheer me up.” This public declaration immediately drew attention.
He further elaborated on his reasoning in posts on Facebook and Instagram. Sharing a photo from outside the venue, he acknowledged that his presence there might be perceived negatively, writing, “It might be distasteful for me to be here.” However, he offered his perspective, explaining, “but my family would want me to attend the Blink-182 show as it is my favorite band, and music helps me during difficult times.” He added on Instagram, in a post featuring himself at the venue on June 20, “What am I supposed to do? Sit at home and watch the news? I am not sorry; this band has helped me through hard times since 1998.”
These public statements, made while the fate of the five people aboard the Titan remained unknown, quickly sparked an online debate about appropriate ways to grieve and cope, particularly for individuals connected to high-profile tragedies. Szasz’s choice to seek solace in music at a public event became a focal point for digital commentary, much of which was critical. Screenshots of his posts circulated widely, fueling the online discussion.
The scrutiny intensified when rapper Cardi B weighed in on the matter. In an Instagram story shared on Tuesday, June 20, she criticized Szasz’s decision to attend the concert. Speaking directly to her followers, she challenged the notion that he had no other options, suggesting that a more traditional form of mourning was expected. “People were like, ‘Well, what is he supposed to do? Be sad at home? Is he supposed to go look for him himself?’ Yes,” she asserted.
Cardi B continued, outlining what she believed was the expected behavior during such a crisis. “You are supposed to be at home, sad. You are supposed to be crying,” she said, seemingly putting herself in the position of the missing person. She added, “You are supposed to be right next to the phone, waiting to hear any updates about me. You are supposed to be consoling your mom.” She went on to express a stark opinion about the missing billionaire, stating, “Isn’t it sad that you are a whole f–king billionaire and nobody gives a f–k about you? […] That’s crazy. I’d rather be broke. I’d rather be broke and poor, but knowing that I’m loved.” This celebrity commentary amplified the public discourse surrounding Szasz’s actions considerably.
Szasz, in turn, did not shy away from responding to the criticism, particularly from Cardi B. He quickly took to social media to defend himself and lash out at the rapper. In one tweet, he called her “trashy” and accused her of exploiting his family’s suffering for attention. He wrote, “@iamcardib What a pos trashy celeb. Cardi B is trying to get clout off me and my family’s suffering. I went to a Blink-182 concert for coping rather than sitting at home and watching the news. Shame on you, Cardi. Get some class!”
He didn’t stop there, directly challenging Cardi B’s musical career in another tweet. “Cardi B, we know all your latest releases are trash. But is your career this desperate for attention now??” he tweeted. On his Instagram Story, he also suggested she “try to show class for once in your life!” This exchange between the stepson of a missing billionaire and a Grammy-winning rapper became a notable side story in the larger narrative of the submersible search, illustrating how personal crises can rapidly become public spectacles in the digital age.
Beyond the back-and-forth with Cardi B, Szasz offered further explanations for his decision to attend the concert and his inability to be closer to the search efforts. Addressing the online backlash, he posted on his Instagram Story that he had approximately “$100 to my name,” implying financial constraints. He also mentioned a “legal situation keeping me here,” which prevented him from traveling to the location of the search. He added, “I can’t get on a flight. I don’t have a passport.” These details painted a picture of personal limitations distinct from the immense wealth associated with his stepfather.
He reiterated that his motivation for attending the concert was not enjoyment but a need for temporary distraction. He stated he had been “sitting here watching the news for two days straight” and was not “having a great time” at the concert, but simply wanted to “get off the phone for maybe two hours.” This defense sought to frame his actions not as indifference, but as a personal coping mechanism under difficult circumstances.
Adding another layer to the public scrutiny, past allegations against Szasz resurfaced online. Reports mentioned that in the summer of 2021, he allegedly posted threatening tweets targeting women in the rave community, with EDM artist Alison Wonderland reportedly among those targeted. Screenshots circulated showing deleted tweets from 2021 in which Szasz allegedly made disturbing comments, including one suggesting that Wonderland “will f– pay and I will show up at her LA apartment.” These allegations reportedly led to action by security personnel.
Context provided within the information stated that in June 2021, artist Illenium tweeted that his team was “aware of the situation” and was working with “authorities and the stadium.” He emphasized that fan safety was his “priority” and that “all threats” were taken “seriously,” with anyone making them being “reported to the police and not allowed into the venue.” According to legal documents cited, Szasz was detained on June 30, 2021, at Vista Detention Facility “in connection with online stalking charges pressed against him.”
The provided text also mentions that Szasz lives with Type 1 diabetes and autism spectrum disorder. A year after his detainment, he filed a lawsuit against San Diego County, alleging various facility workers of “negligence, intentional infliction of emotional distress, and battery.” As of May of the year the context was written, this case was still in litigation. These details about his past legal troubles and personal health information became part of the public narrative as the scrutiny over his recent actions intensified.
In addition to the concert attendance and the resurfaced allegations, Szasz also drew criticism for his other social media activities. According to reports, he retweeted a risqué post from an OnlyFans model and responded positively, just minutes after posting a request for prayers for his family. This action, too, was quickly highlighted online and added to the growing chorus of disapproval regarding his conduct during the search for the submersible.
The decision by Szasz’s mother, Linda, to ask him to delete his initial concert posts “for privacy” underscores the tension between personal grief and the intense public interest that surrounds events involving prominent figures, particularly when those events are amplified by social media. Szasz himself noted this invasion of privacy, claiming on Instagram that he had been stalked by “creepy reporters” in San Diego and had even received a call from Tucker Carlson, illustrating the high level of media attention his actions had attracted.
The search for the Titan submersible was a race against time, operating under the grim estimate of a rapidly dwindling oxygen supply. While underwater noises were detected, providing a glimmer of hope for a time, search efforts continued with the understanding that the situation was critical. The U.S. Coast Guard estimated that the breathable air could be depleted by Thursday morning.
Tragically, the story of the submersible search concluded with the U.S. Coast Guard confirming that all five people on the Titan, including Hamish Harding, were believed to have died. The vessel suffered a “catastrophic implosion” near the Titanic wreckage site. Along with Harding, those lost were OceanGate CEO Stockton Rush, French explorer Paul-Henri Nargeolet, Pakistani businessman Shahzada Dawood, and his 19-year-old son, Suleman Dawood.
In the wake of the confirmed tragedy, the earlier public spectacle surrounding Brian Szasz’s social media activity took on a different hue when viewed through the lens of the fatal outcome. The intensely personal experience of awaiting news about a loved one was played out on a global stage, subjected to instantaneous judgment and commentary. Szasz’s defense of his actions as a coping mechanism, attempting to find a moment of relief amidst overwhelming stress, resonates with the messy and imperfect ways in which humans navigate grief, especially when it intersects with the relentless visibility of the internet.
The narrative around Brian Szasz serves as a stark reminder of the unique pressures faced by individuals connected to high-profile tragedies in the age of social media. Every action and every post are subject to immediate and widespread interpretation, often divorced from the full context of personal circumstances and emotional turmoil. His experience highlights how traditional notions of private grief clash with the expectation of performative mourning in the digital public square, where seeking solace at a concert can be perceived as a transgression against an unwritten code of conduct.
Ultimately, the story captures a moment when two significant narratives converged: the desperate and somber search for a missing vessel and the frenetic, often judgmental energy of online commentary reacting to a man’s public expression of his struggle to cope. It underscores how deeply intertwined our digital lives have become with our most personal experiences, leaving little room for private suffering when the world is watching and ready to comment.
