The Brazilian Grand Prix was an incredible race, but if you judged it based on commentary alone, you’d think Interlagos was Formula One on its knees.
With the exception of the justified bewilderment in the face of Max Verstappen’s masterful charge to the podium, much of the rest of the commentary was expressed in tones of distaste – distaste for Formula One no longer being some truer form of motorsport that was lost somewhere between today and whenever any given pundit last won a race.
Despite the thrilling racing Brazil was a diabolical combination of the sport’s love of its past and intolerance of change, and the result was a nauseating three hours of inane ‘back in my day’ references.
It started immediately. Race control delayed the start of the race to see if the rain, heavy enough to cause Romain Grosjean to crash on his way to the grid, would ease, but when the weather didn’t lift, race director Charlie Whiting called for a safety car start.
‘Heresy!’ shouted the critics, with a frustrating many decrying the FIA’s safety-first attitude at a circuit notorious for standing water.
Commentary of the red flag periods, in particular the second one, which was triggered after a clutch of exploratory laps behind the safety car, was similarly sanctimonious, particularly when Lewis Hamilton was made the poster boy for a racing resumption by declaring on team radio that conditions were raceable.
It was barely noted that Hamilton, leading the race, was obviously not being subjected to the spray propelled into the visors of every driver behind him, and it warranted only brief mention that he had obvious championship-related motivations for the race to reach three-quarter distance, after which full points can be awarded.
When racing did finally resume, quelling the furore, the field’s reluctance to switch to the intermediate tyre was never considered supporting evidence for the circuit’s poor condition, and instead it was used to seamlessly pivot from the governing body’s outrageous adhesion to its safety guidelines to skewering Pirelli’s tyres.
In Brazil it was the wet-compound tyre due for criticism – a regular occurrence in rain-affected grands prix, though never mind the teams have only this year allowed Pirelli to test its tyres with representative F1 cars – in an attack that fit in nicely with dominant discourse that Pirelli’s tyres aren’t for racing.
It was fascinating to behold commentary criticising both the tyres for being inadequate for the conditions and the FIA for pausing the race when conditions were too extreme for the tyres. The hypocrisy didn’t matter – logical inconsistencies didn’t exist in the much-hyped ‘good old days’.
Nigel Mansell, as a Formula One world champion, has been among the highest profile critics of the sport’s approach to safety in wet weather, summing up his position after the British Grand Prix, which was also started behind the safety car.
“I am from the old school years ago a race in the rain was normal. Amazing standing start in wet was fantastic get it right so much fun,” the 1992 titleholder tweeted with scant regard for punctuation.
I am from the old school years ago a race in the rain was normal. Amazing standing start in wet was fantastic get it right so much fun
— Nigel Mansell CBE (@nigelmansell) July 23, 2016
Unsurprisingly the Briton was at it again this weekend, teaming up with Sky Sports Formula One pundit Martin Brundle to lament the safety-conscious start.
“What Martin said was perfect,” he tweeted. “You have a throttle pedal and it works both ways, you go as quick as you are happy with and get on with it.”
What Martin said was perfect you have a throttle pedal and it works both ways,you go as quick as you are happy with and get on with it .
— Nigel Mansell CBE (@nigelmansell) November 13, 2016
The idea that drivers can regulate safety themselves is as misleading as it is apparently insidious, as is the myth that ‘real’ Formula One exists only in the half-forgotten haze of the past.
One need only consider the litany of yellow flag infringements dealt in the last 24 months to realise how much of the sport’s quest for safety exists because drivers have proven themselves untrustworthy when forced to choose between safety and competitive advantage.
Likewise this idea that racing was somehow superior in days past is misleading. The 1996 Brazilian Grand Prix, referenced on Sky Sports Formula One’s coverage this weekend as an example of ‘real wet racing’, featured just two cars on the lead lap and seven retirements because of deteriorating conditions – and that’s without considering the higher death toll in the sport’s less safety-conscious years.
It is impossible to argue the race Formula One got this weekend – perfectly judged by race control for both weather and time – is somehow lacking in comparison.
The 2016 Brazilian Grand Prix demonstrated that the FIA is on top of its game when it comes to maximising racing and minimising risk in dangerous conditions. To suggest this somehow represents overzealousness or the sterilisation of racing misses the point completely – racing is improved and drivers are emboldened precisely because of Formula One’s inevitable march away from its so-called ‘good old days’.
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