Unpopular Opinion: The Rolex Submariner Is Overrated

I can already hear the pitchforks being sharpened. But hear me out. The Submariner is one of the most discussed, most researched, most argued-about watches in the world, and the more time I spend looking closely at it, the more I've come to a conclusion that'll probably get me banned from half the watch groups out there: the Rolex Submariner is the most overrated watch in modern horology.

Not bad. Not poorly made. Not undeserving of respect. Just overrated. There's a difference.

The Pedestal Problem

The Submariner sits on a pedestal so high that any rational discussion about its actual merits becomes difficult. It's become a cultural symbol first and a watch second. People buy it because it's THE watch, not because they've carefully considered whether it's the best tool watch for their needs, the best £7,000 they could spend, or even the best Rolex for their wrist.

It's widely reported in enthusiast circles that a Submariner draws instant recognition wherever it goes, but that the conversation rarely goes further than "it's a Sub". Ask people what they actually like about it beyond the name and you tend to get vague answers about "presence" and "heritage", rather than engagement with the details, the dial finishing, the bracelet quality, the movement decoration, that tend to come up when a Grand Seiko or an Omega is on the wrist.

With the Sub, the conversation often stops at recognition. It's become jewellery that happens to tell time, not a watch that happens to have cultural cachet.

Let's Talk Proportions

The modern Submariner (126610 or the previous 116610) is a thick watch by any measure. At 12.5mm to 13mm, published dimensions suggest a chunky piece on anything smaller than a 7-inch wrist, and smaller-wristed owners commonly report that it never quite disappears the way slimmer dive watches do. Every shirt cuff becomes a negotiation.

Rolex could slim this down. The Pelagos 39 from Tudor (same parent company, remember) is 11.8mm thick with 200m water resistance. The Omega Seamaster 300 is 13.1mm but is often said to wear slimmer due to its case geometry. The Sub's thickness comes partly from the movement (the 3135 in the old 116610 and today's 3230 and 3235 are robust but not slim) and partly from design choices that seem to prioritise visual impact over ergonomics.

And sure, plenty of owners say you get used to it. But "you get used to it" isn't exactly a ringing endorsement when you're spending eight grand.

The Value Argument Collapsed

Five years ago, a no-date Sub could be bought at an AD for a price that, while expensive, was defensible. You got Swiss watchmaking at its most refined, a 70-year design legacy, and something you could wear daily for decades.

Today the 124060 retails at £7,850. But retail is largely theoretical, since the model is notoriously hard to buy at that price. Buyers join waitlists, are asked to purchase other watches they don't want to "build a relationship" with the dealer, or turn to the grey market and pay well above retail for a watch with a £7,850 price tag.

At those grey-market prices, the Submariner isn't competing with other tool watches. It's competing with entry-level complications, with vintage Patek, with bespoke independent brands. And in that company, a time-only sports watch with 300m water resistance starts to look a bit thin on substance.

Secondhand values for well-kept Submariners have risen sharply over the years, which is brilliant if you already own one and terrible for the watch's standing as an accessible icon. Rolex has become a speculative asset class, and the Submariner is the flagship of that unfortunate transformation.

The Bracelet: Good, Not Great

Let's address the Glidelock bracelet, because it's one of the Sub's genuine strong points. The system is clever, micro-adjustment without tools is brilliant, and the whole thing feels solid according to most accounts. But owners commonly note that the endlinks can develop slight play over time. The half-links are also reported to pinch wrist hair on occasion, even with Glidelock adjusted, and the clasp, while secure, is thick enough to catch on jacket cuffs.

Compare it to the Omega Seamaster's bracelet with its quick-adjust system, or Grand Seiko's three-fold clasp, or the Tudor Pelagos titanium bracelet with its spring-loaded adjustment. The Rolex is very good. It's not untouchable.

What The Submariner Does Well

None of this is to say the Sub doesn't deserve credit. The 3230 movement in the no-date is widely regarded as robust and dependable, with a proper 70-hour power reserve, and owners consistently report excellent day-to-day accuracy. The ceramic bezel is virtually scratchproof and the lume is reported to be bright enough to read in pitch darkness. The case finishing, while not Grand Seiko-level, is consistent across thousands of units according to reviewers.

And the design is genuinely iconic. There's a reason it's been copied by everyone from Seiko to Steinhart. The proportions of the dial, the Mercedes hands, the fat lugs, they all work together. It's not just hype. There's substance underneath.

But here's the thing: doing everything well doesn't mean you're the best at anything. The Sub is a very good all-rounder. So is a Toyota Camry. That doesn't make it the ultimate driving machine.

Better Alternatives Nobody Talks About

For grey-market Submariner money, you could get an Omega Seamaster 300M and a Grand Seiko SBGH267 and have change left over. You'd have a proper dive watch and a dress sports watch, both from legitimate manufacture brands, both finishing at or above the Sub's level.

Or put the same money towards a Blancpain Fifty Fathoms Bathyscaphe and get better finishing, an in-house movement, and actual dive-watch innovation instead of refinement of a 1950s design.

Or get a Tudor Pelagos 39 and put what's left over towards literally anything else. A proper holiday. A vintage Speedmaster. A dozen Seiko 5s. Whatever it is, it's likely to deliver more satisfaction per pound than the struggle of finding a Sub at retail.

The Uncomfortable Truth

The Rolex Submariner is bought by many people as a status symbol, by people who wouldn't recognise a column wheel if it hit them in the face. And that's fine. Watches have always been jewellery. But let's not pretend it's purely about the watchmaking when the same crowd wouldn't consider an equally well-made Omega or Grand Seiko because those don't have the crown logo.

It's an open secret in the hobby that plenty of Submariner owners couldn't tell you the difference between automatic and quartz, or explain what the water resistance rating actually means, and bought the watch because it's the recognised thing to buy. That's a perfectly valid reason to own a watch, but it skews the entire conversation about the watch's actual merits.

The Submariner has become the watch equivalent of a Hermès Birkin bag. Beautifully made, yes. Deservedly expensive, perhaps. But the price and desirability have detached from the object itself and entered pure status-symbol territory.

Where I Land

If you can walk into an AD tomorrow and buy a Submariner at retail, it's a solid choice. Not the only choice, not necessarily the best choice, but a genuinely good watch that should serve its owner well for decades. The problem is that buying one at retail is rarely straightforward. And in the real world of waitlists and markups, the Submariner asks too much and delivers too little.

It's a very good watch that's been elevated to mythical status by marketing, scarcity, and cultural momentum. Overrated doesn't mean bad. It just means the gap between reputation and reality has grown too wide to ignore.

It remains a lovely watch on its own terms. But it's not the pinnacle of modern watchmaking, and we should stop pretending it is just because James Bond wore one in 1962.