Paid drivers - a prejorative term with unsavoury connotations. But the reality in F1 is ubiquitous: money buys more than just materialism - it buys opportunity.
Callum Alexander | Callum on Cars | CrackersCal
In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a passionate enthusiast about the topic of cars.
So much so that I come with that label: petrolhead. In a world suffocating from fossil fuels, even that snippet of jargon is fast becoming a taboo, draconian and redundant term to stereotype me. By ditching the internal combustion engine, the automotive industry will evolve into its new incarnation. Electrichead will emerge as the new label - it will catch on before you know it.
But that in itself is a topic for another time. My point is that I am fanatical about cars: they offer a thrill and escapism that is tough for much else in the world to offer an equivalent high of. It taps into my hunter gatherer instinct - traits that reside in everyone - no matter how hard they are repressed. This competitive urge is expressed through the artistry of driving. Or rather, racing.
You may be wandering where this piece of writing may be heading. As a car enthusiast and competitive soul, I am inevitably drawn to, like iron filings to a magnet, the frenetic sphere of Formula 1. My interest is spiked by the astronaut, space-type feel that it emits to ordinary people like myself - it feels like a paradigm from another universe - exotic and cool. It inspires and impresses in a way that a car enthusiast can't help but get a dose of.
On the face of it, F1 is an expression of engineering excellence and competitive spirit mated together in perfect harmony, creating a spectacle of wide-ranging emotion. The drivers are the embodiment of this compelling narrative: the identity of F1. Their calibre of performance is so high, they can be likened to superheroes; invisible qualities that are inexplicable to define, so much so that ordinary people worship their status, starry eyed with obsessive and enamoured infatuation. But, as the generations of driver transitions, there is a perturbing trend emerging in the chosen ones coming through.
It has become apparent to me that there is a glass ceiling that inhibits social mobility and exacerbates inequality in F1. This epiphany burst my equilibrium bubble of optimism and positivity as it dawned on me just how far removed and out of touch F1 has become to ordinary people. It brings difficult questions to the boil, like: what is the strategy of the FIA for Formula 1? What action is being taken to grow the sports popularity and fanbase - who are the lifeblood to the sports existence. And, what methods are being developed to increase transparency, opportunity and inclusivity to the global audience of Formula 1?
My train of thought may be perplexing for you to digest, but let me assure you, I’m not the only one to feel this way. My perspective has been sourced and formulated on facts and evidence, two pillars that convey brutal honesty, and reflect an unshakeable truth. Therefore my argument is best laid bare for you to make your own judgements.
There is one curious factor that might offer some explanation about the method of driver selection being adopted, revealing a systemic problem from grass-roots karting to the F1 grid. The hard-hitting truth even batters the slightest suggestion that F1 is in some way on par with the lives of ordinary people. F1 is not able to compete or rival the popularity of alternative, more accessible sports, like football; the economic barriers halt and deflect talent from ordinary backgrounds from pursuing karting - the proving ground of motorsport. This means F1 cannot relate to ordinary people in a conventional or practical sense, because it is simply not accessible to experience.
The costs of turning up at your local kart track for an arrive and drive format are crippling enough; the costs to run your own kart and race it, are astronomical. Josh Morris is a junior racer, who dreams of a drive in F1, but the 14-year-old accepts it will be tough to pull off. He told BBC Sport: “There's only 20 people in the world who can be on the grid so the likelihood of that happening for me is slim. It would even be too expensive for me to race in Formula 3 if I made my way up through the ranks."
Karting competition is politicised through laissez-faire economics, or free-market fundamentalism - the belief that one can succeed or fail on his own, without help - it is also known as negative freedom. This format incentivises Karter's in the paddock derived from wealth, as they can out resource the competition deprived from wealth, inhibiting poorer families in every juncture. This hierarchical structure is preserved through paternalistic measures and premises the pragmatic view of the elite to preserve power and privilege in the Karting competition, creating a karting hierarchy based on economic divisions.
This financial authoritarianism acts as an invisible hand, providing preferential treatment to families from wealth and constricting opportunity of poor Karter’s, through depleted finances. This construct of competition is maintained through libertarian strategies - emphasis is placed on individual self-reliance and self-regulation. But this is a mis-held belief of interpretation in karting: financial firepower always topples talent. It tactically undermines impoverished Karter’s, negating their potential. It results in doctrinarian consequence fuelled from the failure of extreme political ideology.
With Karting complexity advancing, the practical solution is to have your own kart team supporting you - their expertise would finesse details to improve lap time - but that skyrockets expenses, favouring Karter's with wealth. Your own personable team professionalises karting: telemetry technology is used to hone track performance, switching tyres and engines every race for maximum grip levels and power output, to name just a snapshot of the advantages. This total domination and authority over the competition does not reflect through talent, but economic supremacy. No matter how exceptional the talent, if the kart infrastructure is not as sophisticated, Karter’s cannot compete on equal terms.
To be talent spotted by sponsors or driver programmes, you must get results, win races and win championships you compete in. But with the financial disparities on the grid, it is those who can afford performance that get noticed - those who can’t, are wasted. Morris adds: “Unless you get lucky, there isn't a high chance to get where sponsors are looking if you're not wealthy.” This makes the talent pool more refined to upper echelons of society, a one-dimensional promotion of opportunity into F1.
Morris understands the advantage that money brings: "Having funding and support behind you opens more doors. If you want to be picked up by the top teams and go into their feeder programmes, you need to be racing with the best of the best and if you haven't got the money, you're going to be overlooked."
By its very nature, motorsport is expensive; so, to compensate for this discrepancy in financial outlay, should regulation to control costs and grant schemes to aid shortfalls in finances among poorer families be adopted to counteract the difference?
To clarify: these proposed solutions do not seek to give a free pass to impoverished Karter’s with aspiration and ambition but posses mediocre talent, and nor do they exist to exclude potential Karting talent from wealth. These alternative proposals aim to modify the infrastructure of karting championships to readdress the imbalance in governance, equality and fairness - to create a level playing field for talent to thrive on merit. I struggle to find a plausible reason or excuse that would consider this endeavour controversial.
My concern is tellingly reflected by a working-class driver who defied convention to fulfil the potential that his talent was capable of. He and his family initially struggled to make ends meet in order to keep his dream of Formula 1 alive - his father at one stage had four jobs to fund his Karting. The driver in question, Lewis Hamilton: a Five Time World Champion, and now statistically the fastest driver of all time, with 83 pole positions. He was the first mixed-race, working-class driver to reach the dizzying bubble of F1, and by his own admission, maybe the last of his kind.
Lewis told BBC Sport at the 2018 Monaco GP that: "When people ask me where the next me is coming from, I say: 'No, these kids come from wealthy backgrounds, not from the struggle I came from. It goes to the fundamentals of how the sport is governed. There are so many aspects that are not being tackled. There are only wealthy kids coming through. There are no kids from working-class families.” A damning indictment from a driver all to aware of a sport infiltrated by its own self-aggrandisement and privilege.
So, who are the main beneficiaries from deregulated karting competition? The crop of F1 drivers in question aren’t overtly concealing their opulent backgrounds. Thought or opinion on this issue, is unlikely to resonate with them: ignorance is bliss. Max Verstappen is one example, Charles Leclerc is another, and Lance Stroll’s promotion to F1 has been without question the clearest example of nepotistic ascension that flies in the face of fair play, defying all meritocratic morality.
Teams in the midfield of the grid have financial constrictions - due in part to the way F1 distributes money out unequally - nulifying their ability to compete against the top teams. In order to subsidise this shortfall, drivers with financial backing can be drafted in to boost capital investment, known as paid drivers. Lance Stroll was every inch one of those when he drove for Williams in 2017 and 2018.
Now that’s not to say he can’t race in F1, he is entirely competent, but would he have been the first-choice driver for Williams had they no financial black hole? It is not simply just in the matter of materialism that money wields power: in a capitalist paradigm it dicatates access to contacts, opportunities and status - elevating personal interests above the competition. Purchased influence in many spheres, is considerable.
Stroll’s father, Canadian Billionaire retail tycoon, bankrolled his sons career by pumping extra dividends into Williams’ budget, yet they continued to possess poor performance - the Wantage based team went on to finish last in the 2018 Constructors Standings.
But, down the paddock, an opportune scenario arose. The Force India F1 Team went into administration in July 2018; it was grasped from the clutches of impending doom by a group of investors, led by Lawrence Stroll.
Taking advantage of their floundering finances, the Silverstone based outfit has since been rebranded the Racing Point F1 Team - a coincidental side-project? As canny and savvy investments go, this will prove to be one of his shrewdest, for his son at least. By buying his own team, Stroll senior promoted his son to a race seat, and in doing so, kicked a highly rated driver out in Esteban Ocon, like he was some sort of gutter trash.
Max Verstappen is revered, rated and tipped as a future champion - pundits wax lyrical about his talent, skill and potential - all the while ignoring fundamental corner stones of his rapid and convenient rise to the cream of the crop in F1. Arguably, he has been blessed with a golden ticket to the big time. Max is the son of former driver Jos Verstappen who competed in 104 races between 1994 and 2003.
This lineage, fortune and contacts has been the nucleus to unlock the opportunities to fulfil his talent in F1, to the point where it is incontrovertible. Access to the resources required to develop the talent of Max where at their fingertips, and could be sought at the click of their fingers. It is rather befitting of an old saying: it is not what you know, but who you know, that counts.
The remonstration that Verstappen was embroiled in with Esteban Ocon at the immediate aftermath of the race in Brazil 2018 is a symbolic example of my case in point. His Red Bull team principal, Christian Horner, did not condone the physical violence, but instead thrusted the cause of Verstappen’s reaction onto Ocon, overlooking Verstappen’s own naievity and arrogance in that racing circumstance.
The reaction of Verstappen towards Ocon could be washed over as passion and frustration, but it appears to reflect a man out of touch with the reality of life, and takes for granted his fortunate position. It could be interpreted that he has the propensity of a petulant spoilt brat, projecting a sense of superior entitlement. The scenes that followed in the dubbed 'parc ferme-gate' with Ocon adds credence to the argument that Verstappen revealed his true colours.
Verstappen received two days 'community service' that he was required to perform within six months of the fracas. As part of the punishment, he ‘observed stewards’ at the Formula E Marrakesh race in January 2019. The leniency is generous: it sounds more like a shadowing day on a work experience placement. Personally, this writer would be very keen to observe how race stewards conduct their operations.
But for an F1 driver who assaulted another, the consequence does not reflect the reality of his conduct concluded by race stewards. This example disparages against the swift punishment and rehabilitation potentially allocated to individuals based on occupation and social status.
The movie Trading Places is irrefutable in portraying the distinction in station and how people are treated differently based on socio-economic class - this is reflected in Verstappen's treatment - it draws on the juxtaposition in society. The 'community service' was a mere inconvenience, not rehabilitation or serving the community that would be instructed to a person submerged in poverty.
The third beneficiary is the most covert of the three examples - until you glance at his nationality. Charles Leclerc was born and has lived his entire life in Monaco: a sovereign city state permitting particular exemptions in income tax. In part this is to preserve the established order of society, and in Leclerc’s case, his family’s inherited wealth and influence through generations. His father and grandfather before that were lesser known entrepreneurs whose resources have been utilised to fuel Leclerc's interests. During the 80’s and 90’s, his father Herve raced cars, including a stint in F3.
Leclerc's dynasty has served his interests well. Bolstered by his father’s passion for racing, Leclerc was introduced to the ARM management company, co-owned by Nicolas Todt, son of former Ferrari team principle Jean Todt. This has ensured his destiny be engraved in certainty - is it a coincidence that the driver from Monaco now races for Ferrari? This mocktail of ingredients flesh out an environment optimally suited to curate the ideal racing driver, with minimal infringement from external circumstances.
Now, there is nothing sinister in this pursuit of ambition, nor does it deter from Leclerc's talent, but fair competition compared to impoverished families? I think not. This multi-layered construct of hereditary pedigree behind Leclerc’s rise undermines and makes a mockery for justice of equality in the highest formula of motorsport. There is something repellent about the intransigence in the drivers being selected to race in Formula 1 - it festers like a wound that just won't heal.
Opportunity in a society of an established order is restrictive, especially in the confines of F1. But the reality about driver choices and selection process being adopted, is that it methodically segregates talent between rich and poor. The truth of affluent families like those of Stroll, Verstappen and Leclerc is clear: they have been genetically modified to race through nurture nature from their socio-economic standing - they are a product of their background. This has been critical and instrumental in a fundamental way to their success. In short: if your rich, with talent, you will drive in F1; if your poor, with the same amount of talent, your chances are unequivocally reduced.
These drivers have been conditioned and programmed from birth, their entire lives sacrificed and devoted to developing and producing themselves to being the ultimate F1 driver. There are other examples, but this chosen trio are the significant protagonists. They have benefitted from exploiting the institutional inequality exposed by the free-market governance of karting and motorsport, a rigged system, a strategic ideology not imposed by default, but by design - implicitly or unimplicitly - from the central motorsport governing body, the FIA. The responsibility for implementing parity in opportunity resides with this bureaucratic mechanism, yet the apparant blinkered cognizance in inaugurating systematic change to fundamental motorsport infrastructure is bewildering.
Of course, not every driver in F1 was born with a silver spoon protruding out of every orifice, there are those who reach the highest formula in single seater motorsport through meritocratic graft. But this novelty is increasingly becoming the exception to the uncomfortable norm; so scarce that it pulverises any hint of a dream to drive in F1 into a pulpit of despair. From the facts and evidence collated throughout this piece, it is entirely plausible to interpret that the top tier of motorsport has been hijacked by the ultra-rich.
How does someone who has nothing, compete with someone who has everything? The lack of initiative to implement changes addressing all aspects in parity of equality in motorsport regulation - both financial and technical - speaks volumns about the incentive of the FIA. Why would changes to broaden the sports appeal be against their own interests? Good question.
Formula 1 is heading full tilt into an existential crisis in numerous junctures with electric cars looming on the horizon, but the overlooked aspect of selection process in F1 driver has the potential to help facilitate the sports slump in popularity; as it is a significant factor that distances itself from its core audience demographic: ordinary people.
The meaning of 'the elephant in the room' bears a pertinent and resounding tone to my point of view here. The qualifications to be an F1 driver has gone beyond the realms of just being an exceptional driver. The additonal criteria ideally required: affluent background, and - if drivers are being cherry picked - the son of a former racing driver.
This disclaimer has morphed into a prerequisite of mainstream acceptance in society to be an F1 driver - it has become a normalised expectation. But what do I know? I'm just a nobody typing my factual-based opinion away at a keyboard. My opinion is rather trivial, don't listen to me. Listen to a somebody who has defied convention, and a young karter whose dream is being constricted by the financial burden of Karting: listen to Lewis Hamilton and Josh Morris.
Throughout this piece, I have held up a mirror reflecting the reality from the selection process of drivers being promoted into Formula 1, but some people choose to believe comforting rheotric and subvert uncomfortable truths. Since when did fact and evidence that formulate the truth become controversial?
Callum Alexander | Callum on Cars | CrackersCal
Photos: F1.com
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