A box is stronger than it looks and fails predictably
Stacked upright a box carries a remarkable load, until you touch the corners.
Put an empty box on the floor and stand on it carefully, weight over the corners, and it will very likely hold you. That surprises people. Almost all of the vertical strength of a box lives in its four vertical corners, where two panels meet and brace each other against buckling. A flat panel wants to bow outwards under load; a corner cannot bow in either direction without dragging the adjoining panel with it, so it stays put. The panels in between are essentially skin. The corners are the frame.
Which gives you the single most useful piece of knowledge about cardboard: damage a corner and the box loses most of its ability to carry anything above it. A dented corner is not cosmetic. It is a column that has already begun to fold, and a folded column does not recover. This is why boxes in a stack fail from the bottom, why the crushed one is almost always the one that took a knock on the way in, and why a box that has been dropped on its corner should never be trusted at the base of a pile even if it looks fine.
There is a second predictable weakness, and it is humidity. Paper fibres absorb moisture from the air, and as they do, the glued arches soften and the whole structure loses stiffness. A box that spent a night in a damp yard is measurably floppier than the identical box kept dry, and nothing about its appearance tells you so. The two weaknesses also compound, because a softened corner buckles under a load it would have shrugged off the day before. Between corner damage and moisture, you have explained most of the crushed parcels in the world, and neither of them has anything to do with what was packed inside or how carefully it was wrapped.