4 hours ago
3
‘Win on Sunday, sell on Monday’ is a well-worn motorsport cliché, but it’s one that contains a kernel of truth.
What’s more, it’s one that applies to the current state of Formula 1, with its heavy reliance on big car manufacturers entering the sport.
Look at the Melbourne grid, and of the 11 teams, only Red Bull, Racing Bulls, Haas and Williams won’t sell you a production car. The rest of the field comprises Mercedes, McLaren, Ferrari, Alpine, Cadillac, Audi and Aston Martin.
That means 63 per cent of the grid is composed of big car makers. Only 10 years ago that figure stood at 36 per cent, 20 years ago it was 45 per cent and 30 years back, a mere 18 per cent.
This quiet shift in F1’s power balance is the reason why we have the current F1 rule set, a patchwork quilt of regulations that has fundamentally changed the sport. It’s been cobbled together to attract the likes of Audi to the sport and keep the likes of Honda in the category.
In short, these manufacturers want a link to the cars they sell in their showrooms, and the hybrid technology is the hook that they have pushed for in order to do that.
But in order to appease these powerful car manufacturers, F1 has compromised the sporting spectacle.
When we see, as we did in Melbourne, drivers decelerating on a qualifying lap in order to charge their batteries, something has gone very wrong.
A qualifying lap ought to be the ultimate flat-out test of bravery and skill for a driver. Instead it’s been emasculated. It was telling that there was such little in-car footage being shown at the one high-speed approach to Turn 9.
The thousands of spectators who were standing trackside at that point would have known what they were watching. And could have told you from easily accessible telemetry data that the Formula 1 cars were approaching that corner about 40km/h slower than they were last year.
It’s all a bit of a farce.
During pre-season testing in Bahrain, there were several points on the track where telemetry showed something even more shocking.
At certain points on the track, the Formula 2 cars were just as quick, if not quicker. They sounded better too.
Formula 1 is sold as the pinnacle of motorsport. It’s supposed to be everything turned up to 11. At the moment it feels like it’s been dialled down to seven or eight.
Already there are signs of change brewing. The FIA's single-seater director Nikolas Tombazis is looking at potential changes after the next round in China that could come into force before the race in Japan.
"The teams' unanimous position was that we should stick to the current arrangements for the first few races and to review the matter when we have a bit more data," he said.
"Our intention is after China to be reviewing the energy management situation.
"We have a few aces up our sleeves on that, which we didn't want to introduce ahead of the first race as a knee-jerk reaction, and which we will review with the teams after China."
Fans will catch on quickly if they feel that what they are watching is artificial. At present, the racing product is superficially entertaining, but not where it needs to be from a technical standpoint.
Cars are passing each other frequently on straights, yo-yoing positions, but the proper no-holds-barred, dive in on the brakes? Why would you risk that if you can just press a button and breeze past on the next straight?
In a bid to control the media narrative, Formula 1 CEO Stefano Domenicali urged for a measured response.
“I don’t understand what is all the panicking going around,” he said. “There will be incredible racing, there will be a lot of action, and that’s the most important thing. We need to stay calm.”
As Max Verstappen suggested, there’s a lot of action in a game of Mario Kart.
When the fans hear the drivers moaning about the cars, it doesn’t create the impression that they’re watching the best drivers pitting their skills against each other in the best cars. And that is what F1 absolutely needs to be.
The power of the big manufacturers means that the tail is wagging the dog at the moment. That needs to change, and fast.
It’s time F1’s technical regulations were purely geared to generate the most awe-inspiring sights, sounds and spectacle. Not predicated on some tenuous link to an overweight SUV in a car dealer.
Build that and they will come.
Andy brings almost 30 years automotive writing experience to his role at Drive. When he wasn’t showing people which way the Nürburgring went, he freelanced for outlets such as Car, Autocar, and The Times. After contributing to Top Gear Australia, Andy subsequently moved Down Under, serving as editor at MOTOR and Wheels. As Drive’s Road Test Editor, he’s at the heart of our vehicle testing, but also loves to spin a long-form yarn.
