TL;DR: Examining the organizational missteps behind the sinking of the pride of Sweden’s royal armada on its maiden voyage and the UX lessons that can be gleaned from this historical event.

The disaster

It was a crisp August morning in 1628, and the excitement in Stockholm harbor was palpable. The grand new warship, the Vasa, was about to embark on its maiden voyage. King Gustav Adolph II was beaming with pride as he stood on the dock, surrounded by his courtiers and the ship’s crew. The ship was a magnificent sight, with its towering masts and ornate carvings. The king had spared no expense in its construction, and it was to be the flagship of the Swedish navy.

As the ship set sail, the crowd cheered and waved. The king, standing tall, watched as the ship slowly made its way out of the harbor. But as it sailed further out, something started to go wrong. The ship began to list to one side, and then, to the horror of all watching, it capsized and sank within minutes. The crew and passengers were able to evacuate the ship, but the ship was a total loss.

The sinking of the Vasa was a disaster, not only for the ship and its crew but also for the king and his court. The ship was supposed to be a symbol of Sweden’s power and prestige, but instead, it became a symbol of failure, incompetence and project mismanagement.

Why did it sink?

The sinking of the Vasa serves as a stark reminder of the dangers of prioritizing speed and spectacle over stability and quality in product design. But there are also lessons about poor cross-functional collaboration when launching new projects. So let’s look at the confluence of factors that ultimately led to this “Vasaster.”

1. The leadership mistakes (VPs)

In the 17th century, naval forces meant strength. And Gustav II Adolph, the King of Sweden, was determined to build the greatest ship the world had ever seen. With a desire to make a grand statement about his power and legitimacy as the ruler of Sweden, he set out to create a ship that would be a visual spectacle, a testament to his grandeur

So, in 1625, construction began on the Vasa, a 111-ft vessel with a single gun deck. But when news reached the king that the Danish king was building an even larger ship with two gun decks, his ego wouldn’t allow him to be outdone. He immediately ordered the Vasa to be made bigger and transformed into a 135-ft ship with two gun decks, a feat never before attempted in Sweden.

In the following months, as the Swedish Navy struggled in battle, the king also demanded that the Vasa be built on an accelerated schedule, adding pressure on the ship’s engineers. To add to the chaos, the king kept changing his mind about the ship’s decorations, insisting on more and more ornate carvings and sculptures, causing confusion among the builders.

The king’s unrealistic timelines, the pressure to outdo the competition and the constant ego-driven demands for more, led to a troubled ship production. And the rush to meet deadlines and the constant changes in design, added unnecessary stress on the engineers and builders. With all that, it may be assumed that the king personally oversaw the construction due to the detailed design guidance, but in reality, the king only made one visit to the docks.

2. The design flaws (UXDs)

Henrik Hybertsson, the ship’s chief engineer, made the next grave mistake in his pursuit of impressing the king. In his haste to make the ship bigger, he simply scaled up the dimensions of a smaller ship design to meet the king’s desired length and breadth of the new 135-ft Vasa. This lack of planning resulted in a ship that was disproportionately wider at the top than at the bottom. The Vasa was bigger, but the engineers failed to recalculate the ship’s center of gravity, causing an imbalance. This design flaw, a result of neglecting attention to detail, was compounded by the failure to properly ballast the ship, making it even more unstable. A lack of focus on the fundamentals led to a tragic outcome

The king’s demand for additional heavy cannons placed high on the upper decks for show, was another form of grandstanding at the expense of engineering, and it made a bad situation worse. The ship became even more top-heavy and unbalanced as a result.

The sudden death of chief engineer Hybertsson in 1627 presented an opportunity for the king to increase the pressure on the ship’s designers. He demanded hundreds of additional ornate, gilded and painted carvings depicting biblical, mythical and historical themes to decorate the ship. This only exacerbated the already-existing design flaw of the top-heavy and imbalanced vessel. The ship’s designers, eager to please, prioritized aesthetics over functionality, neglecting the engineering principles that would have ensured the ship’s stability and safety, in the pursuit of creating a grand and impressive vessel.

Finally, when teams operate in silos, devoid of clear communication and strong leadership, the outcome is often disastrous. Such was the case with the ill-fated ship, whose construction was also marred by a lack of coordination and alignment among the various teams working on its hull. Records reveal that at one point, there were even separate teams from Sweden and Amsterdam working on the ship, each using different standards for measurement. An investigation later uncovered that the Swedish workers had used a foot measuring 12 inches, while their Amsterdam counterparts had used one measuring just 11 inches. This failure to effectively collaborate was a major factor in the ship’s design flaw and ultimate downfall.

3. The research oversights (UXRs)

When the ship was completed, it was supposed to be tested for stability. Admiral Fleming, in charge of testing, ran a “lurch” test and discovered something ominous. In this test, 30 men had to run side to side on the deck to stress test the vessel for capsizing. After just three rounds, the procedures were halted as the ship swayed so excessively, raising concern it would tip over. Based on this experiment, both the admiral and the 30 men involved in the test had good reason to believe that the ship was flawed and not seaworthy.

However, no one had any ideas to help stabilize the ship. And pressure to comply was high, as these witnesses lacked a clear and safe path to bring their concerns to the attention of those in positions of higher authority. So everyone remained silent, approving the faulty designs. As the adage goes, ‘Loose lips sink ships’, but in the case of the Vasa, silence was her downfall. By choosing to keep quiet about the ship’s design flaw, the fate of the Vasa was sealed.

4. The failed launch (PMs)

The maiden voyage of the Vasa was a grand spectacle, with many onlookers gathered to witness the ship’s debut. In a bid to impress, the King ordered all the gun ports to be opened for a spectacular cannon barrage. But as the wind blew and the ship tipped, water rapidly flooded through the lower open gun ports, dangerously close to the waterline. By the time they were closed, it was already too late.

Imagine if the king had instead chosen to test the ship’s seaworthiness privately, with a smaller, trusted audience. By closing the gun ports and conducting a “soft launch,” the ship may have only tipped, rather than sinking entirely. And in doing so, the shipbuilders would have had the opportunity to identify and address any issues before it was too late.

The same principle applies to launching a new product or service. A soft launch with a holdback live experiment allows you to “test the waters” with a smaller group of users, gather experiment metrics and user feedback, and make any necessary adjustments before ramping up to 100% and officially launching to the public. By focusing on ensuring the basics work, rather than the pomp and frills of an official launch, you can minimize the risk of failure and maximize the chances of success.

Parallels to modern times

Poor prioritization, top-down requirements, and working in silos — these errors have relevance to product design today, as we see similar mistakes being made in product design; a wake-up call for all those who would seek to create, design, test and ship new tech products (pun intended).

Like the king who commissioned the construction of the Vasa, many UX teams fall into the trap of setting unrealistic expectations and overly ambitious timelines for their teams. As we’ve seen with the failures of products like the BlackBerry Storm, Google Glass and the Apple Newton, a lack of collaboration and clear channels for communication can lead to poor performance and user experience. In the case of the BlackBerry Storm, reports indicate a lack of collaboration among different teams working on the product led to poor performance and user experience.

Another important lesson is the need for clear channels for team members to raise concerns and share information with more senior leadership. For example, the failure of the Samsung Galaxy Note 7 was partly due to lack of proper channels for engineers to report battery defects, which led to a recall of the product.

Additionally, UX professionals can learn that giving too much weight to aesthetics or trying to make a grand statement may come at the expense of functionality and quality, which in the long run can harm the product and the company. For instance, the Amazon Fire Phone was aesthetically pleasing but lacked the necessary features and functionality to compete with similar products in the market, ultimately leading to its discontinuation.

It’s all too common in today’s market to see products that are overloaded with features, making them difficult to use and understand. We see products that are built to impress rather than to serve a purpose. We see products that are unbalanced, just like the Vasa; they look great on the outside, but they don’t work well on the inside. And let’s not forget those rushed to market without proper UX research and rigorous testing, resulting in subpar quality.

All in all, UX professionals must learn from these mistakes and strive to foster an environment of open communication and collaboration, actively listening to team members’ concerns and being mindful of the balance between making a statement and creating a functional and quality product. It’s only through this approach that we can build products that truly serve and delight our users.

The lesson

The Vasa’s sinking may have been a tragedy, but in a way, it was a blessing in disguise. The fact that it sank in a shallow, freshwater harbor made it easy to recover and preserved it as a remarkable relic of shipbuilding in the 1600s. And yet, its legacy extends far beyond its historical significance. The lessons it teaches us about leadership are surprisingly relevant, even centuries later. It teaches us that in product design it’s not just about the features, it’s also about the balance. It’s not just about speed, it’s also about quality. And it’s not just about the launch, it’s also about the journey.

Every product we design should be thoroughly tested, and every tiny insight and learning should be taken into consideration. Equally, we must make sure that our products are designed to withstand the elements, both figuratively and literally, and that they are designed to be used in the real world. Despite the knowledge of the ship’s lack of stability, it was given the green light to sail, which was due to the pressure from King Gustav and poor communication between the teams. No one knew what else to do and everyone was eager to comply with the opinion of the most powerful person in the room.

In the rush to impress and to make a grand display, we must not lose sight of the true state of the underlying technology. In the desire for speed and efficiency, we must not sacrifice the quality and integrity of our creations. And in the face of the winds of change and the unpredictable nature of the world, we must always be humble and aware of the potential dangers that may befall us. Let us learn from the sinking of the Vasa, and make sure that the creations we bring forth into the world are built with stability, quality, and humility. And let’s take a page from Vasa’s book and make sure our products don’t sink like a ship. And if they do, let’s make sure we can salvage them like a treasure and learn from our mistakes.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not reflect the official policy or position of Google in any way.

About the author: Slava Polonski is a UXR Lead at Google Flights and a Fellow of Google’s People+AI Guidebook. He holds a PhD from Oxford University and was featured on the Forbes 30 Under 30 list. He is an active member of the World Economic Forum expert network and the WEF Global Shapers community. He writes about the intersection of UX, social science and technology.