...and what to do about it

Yesterday, we saw Force India choose to not run in Q3 at Singapore. This is the second time this season they have taken this option. In DRStrategy, this was recommended as the solution for a team which cannot seriously compete for pole in Q3. There was no possibility of Force India managing a much higher position if it ran than if it didn't, so it was sensible to save a set of tyres to preserve strategy and perhaps pass the more profligate Mercedes team through strategy.

This may seem a rather mercenary attitude, but remember Force India is in a battle between Renault and Sauber over 5th place in the championship. Sauber is very close behind Force India, so it needs points. In addition, Renault is having a lousy weekend in Singapore, making this the best opportunity Force India is likely to have to close the gap between the two. Logically, Force India has to prioritise racing well to qualifying well.

So all is well? Not to judge from the large number of disappointed fans. The best I've seen of their reaction came from @LewisBarthaud:

something needs to be done, this 3 phase format came about to improve the show, you can't call it the "top 10 shootout" with only 7

 

You can't argue with that logic. Also, there's an emotional argument which presumably wouldn't condense into the remaining characters.

There is a massive visceral pleasure in seeing a racing car on track. When there are many racing cars doing likewise and competing powerfully with one another, the pleasure is multiplied. So to take it in reverse, removing 30% of the expected competitors will take out an average of well over 30% of the excitement (exact percentage depending on exactly who "forfeited" the session and who's watching).

This is an example of perverse incentives - the regulations, designed to provide excitement and happiness to the multitudes who watch F1 racing, create the exact opposite effect in qualifying if played out to their logical conclusion.

The first thought might be to penalise those who do not run in Q3 on purpose through a grid penalty. However, this ends up creating perverse incentives of its own. One of the main ways people have been able to overcome the zero-sum passing engendered by DRS is by having more sets of unused soft tyres. What this means is that everyone will, barring unforeseen punctures or crashes, everyone will have the same number of sets of soft tyres remaining. By insisting everyone must have the same number of unused sets of soft tyres, the racing will become even more predictable and samey - under the rippled surface of inconsequential passes. Only someone setting their fastest time with hard tyres will be able to break the cycle.

So that method of making a more exciting qualifying would make a rather dull race. However, this is not an insoluable equation. Changing the way tyre allocations work may help.

My proposal works thus:

- 3 "hard" sets given out on Friday. This will encourage race set-up and endurance work, shift tyre comparison work to Saturday, possibly encourage more teams to use unproven drivers. More importantly for the specific problem under discussion, it means a "soft" set can be awarded later in the weekend without making Pirelli bring any extra tyres. You've got to adapt to cost-cutting...

- 1 "soft" and 1 "hard" tyre set given out at the start of Saturday

-  1 "soft" and 1 "hard" tyre given out at the start of Q1. Any of the three sets of softs given out thus far may be used in qualifying.

- 1 "soft" given out at the start of Q2 - but only to drivers who set a time on the soft given out in Q1.

- 1 "soft" given out at the start of Q3 - but only to drivers who set a time on the soft given out in Q2.

- 2 "soft" and 1 "hard" set given out on Sunday - but only to drivers who set a time on the soft given out in Q3 (or Q1/2 if they were eliminated there). Q3 runners will be permitted to use this instead of the tyre they did their time on, should they be eligible to receive such tyres. Teams will hand back 3 "hard" and 2 "soft" sets of their choice, leaving them with the same number of tyres for the race as they have now.

Stewards' discretion will be used for anyone who makes a genuine attempt to qualify but has a technical issue on-track, crashes on their "sighter" Q1 run on hard tyres or during their soft-tyre run. The idea being that genuine accidents would be treated the same as people who were knocked out at the same stage but completed the soft-tyre run. Anyone of whom foul play is suspected (or had such serious problems that they  wouldn't have used up much/any of the soft tyre's longevity) will receive no such privileges and be treated the same as those who never attempted the run.

This would mean qualifying would influence how many tyres on has available in a more sensible way.

• Someone who didn't run in Q1 on soft tyres would have no unused "soft" tyres.
• Someone who chose not to run in Q2 or Q3 on soft tyres would have 1 set of unused "soft" tyres (the one they got for running in Q1 on softs).
• Someone who chose to run soft tyres in all sessions for which they were eligible would get 2 sets of unused "soft" tyres (for running in Q3).

 This should re-align incentives for the race in favour of having both an exciting qualifying and an exciting race.

The one thing this doesn't prevent is a team not running because they don't think they will lose anything, despite the disincentives in place. This is the frustrating position I am in with my other favourite team, AF Corse. It is in Portugul for the Le Mans Series race but due to some terrible luck involving a lorry accident, a broken tail-lift and an hastily-completed new car presenting problems, is apparently comtemplating a deliberate non-finish for its hitherto most competitive and popular car (the #51 driven by Giancarlo Fisichella and Gianmaria Bruni). It's already team champion, with the #51's drivers also confirmed as individual champions, so they not particularly worried about points. The car is in one piece and is very fast when it works, but could break at any moment and the staff all need to be in America as soon as possible because Petit Le Mans, part of an Intercontinental Le Mans Championship that the team hasn't fully secured yet, is next week and everyone on the the team needs to be there for early scrutineering. I can see the logic but am still upset with the idea a team might forefeit a race where it has somehow managed to qualify 2nd. Much as the people watching the logical withdrawal of the Force Indias from Q3 were upset about them "forfeiting" the last bit of qualifying when they were good enough to at least set representative times. 

Intellectually logical, emotionally tough to accept...

Just after lunch today, Dad, my brother and I went to the Kurburgring in Sutton-in-Ashfield. Never mind the punny title - it was the first time I'd karted in a while and as a bonus I would get to compete against my brother! He has had some road car driving experience but between the sessions I've done at Elk Karting and the one at Amen Corner, I've got slightly more experience of karts.

The reception was nice, with race-themed chairs and friendly staff. Our luck was in because it turned out that Thursday afternoon is "happy hour", so there was a discount on the karting. One downside became apparent immediately; it was noisy, largely because there were petrol karts on an indoor track. This was an issue for me as I have sensitive hearing. I'd brought earplugs but the staff provided some as well.  The other issue with using petrol karts indoors is ventilation, though the place didn't have much in the way of fumes in the air.

The briefing was not the usual set-up of someone standing at the front of the classroom going through the rules. It started that way, with a staff member pointing out the basics as well as briefly explaining circuit-specific things like where different rooms were and the evacuation procedure, but then we were left watching a video with the rules on there. If I'd been a first-timer, I do wonder what would have happened if I hadn't understood the video properly, but fortunately I've karted before and the rules were only slightly different for the Kurburgring. The big circuit-specific rule was that the banked Karusell Corner/Turn 2 was a half-speed corner with no overtaking permitted.

This banked corner was the big "selling point" of the Kurburgring; a square hairpin with a very uneven surface unlike the rest of the track surface. The bank was steep enough that it was impossible to see what was on it from the spectator area, but there was a marshal position inside the corner in the (likely) case of someone getting it wrong.

The corner was important but it wasn't the most important one on the circuit. That was the double-apex Turn 6, which had a deceptive amount of run-off and invites two major faults - excessively early turn-in and excessive entry speed. I found the early turn-in issue to be quite a fault in my driving during the early stages, resulting in two small crashes. Once I got myself out but the other time I had to wave a marshall over to help me.

The excessive entry speed problem was more noticeable in the group that raced before my family descended upon the track. Two karters in particular had a tendency to try going full-pelt through the first apex, slam on the brakes, skid, barely make it through the second apex... ...and get passed by the karter who'd gone wide and let them make their mistake. Apart from the times the karter who'd gone in too fast simply found the barriers and had to get help.

The karts in question have 270 cc, which is as much as a single-engine arrive-and-drive kart can be expected to do. The circuit is also fairly new, so we're talking about karts in a reasonable state. For the first five laps, I also missed the barriers. With that in mind, note this:

• The Kurburgring is 450 metres.
• My first lap was 62.343 seconds.  
• This is a rather stately 16.147 mph. 

  My first lap round the track may be the slowest one of the day (and certainly was as of the time I left the track).  My next three laps were nothing special either because I was still learning the track. This involved nearly stopping the kart at each corner because I was figuring out apexes and braking points. I even had to apply the brakes a little on the flat-out Devil's Elbow/Turn 1. My brother was long gone, having passed me halfway round the first lap.

Apparently Dad, on the sidelines, was getting worried that I might not be enjoying myself. Admittedly, the point in the opening lap where I got cramp in my right foot was no fun at all, but it wore off (the cramp not the foot) and fun started to creep in. Then I suddenly went 4 seconds faster than my previous lap - and 27 seconds faster than my first one - to put in a respectable 35.932 second lap. That was more like it :) This gave me more confidence - perhaps more than was warranted. Next lap, I spun at the second of three hairpin corners called "Mirabeau" (or Turn 8). There was no Monaco-esque crane, only the need to wave over an ever-willing marshal. My brother crashed at the same corner later in the lap, which made me feel better and got me within half a lap of him.

I'd almost caught my brother again when I had the first of my crashes at Turn 6, followed by another crash in the second Mirabeau hairpin two laps later. So much for getting a rhythm and now my brother was threatening to pass me again.

Fortunately, something had clicked in my head. I pulled out a string of laps in the high-35 to low-37 second range, gradually getting better until lap 23. Then I had another breakthrough and did 7 of the next 8 laps within a second of one another, the fastest at 34.008. The one lap that wasn't was the lap I caught my brother. He was beginning to get tired and make mistakes. I spent much of one lap following him (his basic technique was good) but when he made an error of concentration at Turn 3 of the following lap, I cut to the inside and overtook him. He retired 3 laps later due to tiredness and spent the rest of the session with Dad, watching me.

I was worried for a time that I'd missed the chequered flag signal because I didn't see any indicator that proved I should be the only kart on track. It was only when I saw Dad and my brother not waving their arms round trying to get me to notice them that I worked out everything was OK. Whereupon I crashed at the double-apexed Turn 6. Oops.

That was my last major error of the session. I turned in a series of reasonably consistent laps. There was a lap in the high-35 seconds, two in the low-36 seconds and then 8 of the last 9 laps were within half-a-second of one another, in the high-34 seconds and very-low-35 seconds. 

There was something a little bit different about the other lap, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I was still very happy as the chequered flag was waved, though - I can't see times from the kart but I could feel a pattern beginning to settle into my muscles. I cruised round one last time, parked the kart and scrambled over the barrier separating kart from staff. The staff member who met me (who'd also initiated my safety briefing) told me I'd done very well. I assumed she meant I'd behaved well and not been a complete embarrassment to anyone, so I said "thank you" and went to Dad and my brother.

Who then pointed me to the timing screen. It's a good system that clearly indicates best times, recent times by everyone on track and a leaderboard of times for the day. I'd beaten my brother (whose time of 34.408 seconds was itself very respectable), which was hardly a surprise given I'd had the unfair advantage of 16 more laps. The odd thing was that I had the fastest time of anyone who'd come to the track today. Especially odd when the staff member who'd said I'd done well observed that a lot of the others had previously visited.

That lap which felt a little bit different? It was 33.755 seconds, beating the next-fastest time by 0.289 seconds. Turned out that it was fast enough to get onto one of the leaderboards. I am officially the 15th-fastest woman at the Kurburgring in terms of fastest laps - all of those with better times having set them on second or subsequent visits. Yippee!

On discovering this, we collected our timesheets, returned the borrowed kit and left to tell Grandma what had happened. She said she never wanted to be my passenger in a road car. That's fine by me as it is unlikely I will even have a road licence any time soon ;)

I very much want to go again - and hopefully this time warm up a little quicker! Until then, my brother has the consolation of having a faster average time than me... 

Attempting to discuss things about Monaco has proved a frustrating experience. I am accustomed to being in discussions and even arguments about contentious bits of the race. I am not accustomed to major events happening in a race with seemingly only me noticing. 

Firstly, the crash that caused the red flag. It has been established that it was a complicated mess, but what sparked it? I've seen blame put on several people, primarily Adrian Sutil. What none of those blaming Adrian seem to have noticed was that he took damage in a collision three laps earlier with Kamui Kobayashi. This is clearly demonstrated in Adrian suddenly falling into the clutches of the midfield pack that was in process of being lapped.

He was one second than usual on lap 65 (the lap of the pass - note that all lap numbers on the graph are transposed by one lap), became 3 seconds slower than usual on lap 66 (the lap after Kamui passed him) and 4 seconds slower than usual on laps 67 and 68. On laps 69 and 70, Adrian is 20 seconds a lap slower than usual - but both include pit stop time for replacing tyres. This indicates progressive damage. Given that Kobayashi hit the right rear tyre and it was this tyre that ended up in need of a replacement, it is perfectly reasonable to consider that a weakness in the tyre (underinflation from a slow puncture would be most likely) contributed to Adrian's crash.

I cannot begrudge Kamui his 5th because he was overdue one, but I do not feel that this exempts him from having his race properly analysed.

Secondly, the whole raft of complaints about being able to change tyres/wings/springs on the grid and Pastor Maldonado's removal from the results by Lewis Hamilton. While I see a point to the complaints about the Lewis/Pastor crash in particular, all three debates have missed the most important point - that Article 18 of the General Prescriptions prevented the restart from happening in the first place.

Article 18 of the General Prescriptions (link in PDF) has three cases concerning red flags. Initially I'd thought this was in the International Sporting Code, but it appears this particular rulebook also applies to every international racing series (Article 1). Article 18 describes mid-race stoppages using Cases A, Case B and Case C. These will be familiar to those who recall the contents of 2003-era F1 Sporting Regulations documents. For the people who haven't done so, the cases refer to when the red flag is flown and determine what happens thereafter.

Case A is for when the red flag flies within the first 2 laps. Basically, the race is treated as if it never began.

Case B is for when the red flag flies between 2 laps and 75%. The race is restarted on a 10-minute procedure when possible and the running resumes from the lap where it ended.

Case C is for when the red flag flies between 75% and the end of the race. The race result is called then and there. No restart is attempted even if it would be easy to do so. The race is deemed to have finished when the red flag flies, though there is a countback rule.

72 laps out of 78 is 92.307% of the race, which is considerably more than 75%. Clearly this is a Case C situation.

The inclusion of the General Prescriptions in the list of regulations applicable to F1 on the FIA's website means that the document must be taken seriously. Nonetheless, the General Prescriptions is overruled by the F1 Sporting Regulatoins and the International Sporting Code if there are contradictory clauses.

However, no such clauses exist in either document on the question of Case C restarts. There is nothing in either the International Sporting Code or the F1 Sporting Regulations that allows for a red flag beyond the 75% mark to be interpreted as anything other than the end of the race.

Even Article 41 of the F1 Sporting Regulations (the regulation most often cited as justifying the restart) doesn't do that because Article 18 of the General Prescriptions says the race ends when the red flag is flown in Case C situations. Article 41 doesn't mention anything about the definition of a red flag or end-of-race signal changing. Therefore a Case C situation falls under Article 43 (the regulations for finishing). The lack of mention of Cases A, B and C in the F1 Sporting Regulations (they was removed in 2005) does not suffice to negate the power of General Prescriptions Article 18. Article 1 of the General Prescriptions specifically says that precedence only applies in the case of contradictory regulations.

So a lot of the arguments of yesterday should have been null and void. There should have been no argument over tyre or wing changes because there shouldn't have been any laps in which to use them. Pastor and Lewis shouldn't have crashed because there shouldn't have been any time for them to crash in.

Pity the powers-that-be didn't care about their own regulations - again. Double pity that even people like Ted Kravitz (in BBC TV's coverage of the race (iPlayer link; expires 5 June 2011)) and Joe Saward presented Article 41 as if it was the only relevant item, even though it proved not to be especially relevant. When none of the people at the circuit appear to care, how can anyone else be expected to do so (other than stubborn people like me)?

Warning! Long entry alert!

At the end of the last blog entry I did, Bahrain Bother 1 (Background), I asked four quite big questions:

 

How can F1 justify sending its people into a country where there is probable danger over and above the inherent danger of racing at over 200 mph? What ethical responsibilities does the sport have, given that ethical expectations have changed across the world as well as in the Middle East? Politically, what can - or should - F1 do to prevent itself from facing similar problems in future? Oh, and is there anything F1's own psuedopolitical structures can learn from the lessons of the Middle East?

 

So I will now try to tackle each of these in turn, hopefully before the fate of the 2011 Bahrain Grand Prix is decided.

How can F1 justify sending its people into a country where there is probable danger over and above the inherent danger of racing at over 200 mph?

Well, there is always, at least in theory, danger to those who participate in F1 over and beyond the dangers inherent in the sport. I watched the excellent documentary "Graham Hill: Driven" last night, which among other things briefly discussed his death and that of a significant part of his team in an air crash travelling back from a test. Petty crime is a risk everywhere, but particularly highlighted in Brazil, where sporadic robberies involving guns occur and weaponless versions seemingly happen to at least one person in the F1 paddock every year. Even on-track protests are not unheard of, as Germany 2000, Britain 2003 and Spain 2006 demonstrate, and those can kill drivers (alongside anyone in the car's path) if done badly.

However, heading into a country where violent protests are a possibility in the very city the teams are staying is new territory. Unlike the dangers mentioned above, every member of every team is equally at risk Furthermore there is nothing anyone involved in F1 can do to reduce the risks once in the area and following travel advice.

On the other hand, plane crashes could theoretically be avoided by using less risky forms of transport. Petty crime tends to occur less to those who use safer routes, don't look like they have anything worth stealing and hire protection. The best protection against on-track protests has proven to be diligent marshals, these being the reason nobody has died from an on-track protest yet. None of these take the risks to zero, but they all help.

Speaking of travel advice, many countries on Saturday were advising not to travel unless essential. This is a state that renders standard insurance invalid. The FCO (official British travel adviser) is still advising people not to do non-essential travel, though following peaceful words from the Crown Prince and two days without bloodshed, the British embassy has re-opened for restricted service.

The F1 paddock did not sign up to the sport to be put in danger by third parties, so that sort of danger should be minimised as far as reasonably practicable. On Friday, with riotous clashes on the very roundabout many of the teams are due to stay, it was obviously not safe enough to go. Besides, previous revolutions have rarely been resolved in three weeks and uppermost in many people's minds were that three of the countries in the Middle East "protest dominoes" - Tunisia, Egypt and Jordan* have already experienced a revolution (if this is defined by ousting of governments).

However, the two days of peace make the question more difficult. Will this peace last? While some of the protesters are still refusing to come to the table, a danger exists that violence could resume. Having said that, the removal of the army from the equation has had a transformative effect on the situation.

I think, in the absence of more detailed knowledge about Bahrain, I will leave the question of whether the peace will last as an open question. The other part to this question is whether F1 can take that risk. I don't think it can - which the idealistic side of me thinks is a pity, but the pragmatic side believes is part of sensible risk management. Bahrain is in uncharted territory and F1 simply cannot afford the danger of having a lot of its people in the wrong place at the wrong time.

What ethical responsibilities does the sport have, given that ethical expectations have changed across the world as well as in the Middle East?

When the FIA was formed, it declared itself apolitical by statute. Hence, all championships it organises are bound by the code of not favouring any form of politics over others. At the time, it was considered completely and utterly normal for a sport to disavow any interest in political matters. Sporting ethics demanded that the only ethical policy of a sport was sportsmanship.

However, since then there has been a growth in the influence of sport on matters outside its strict domain. From the point that commercialism entered sport, it became rich. Riches gave power. While no sport governs any particular state, sport is frequently used as a badge of approval by certain countries. In particular, hosting a World Cup or an Olympics is seen as proof that a country is wealthy, good at organising itself and has a form of politics acceptable to the wider world.

The hosting of a F1 race has always suggested wealth. It can suggest good organisation but doesn't necessarily have to (provided the people doing the actual race organising are skilled at it, the rest of the nation can be as disorganised as it likes). Politics is another matter.

Beyond the concept of sportsmanship (which has become gradually less important to F1 over the years), the fact that the FIA runs the series implies other ethical considerations. This is because the FIA also has a road division. F1 doesn't represent itself any more; it has become the public face of an organisation trying to decrease deaths and injuries in a wider context.

It is not entirely clear what this means for F1 yet. The many who watch F1 without regard for its wider implied political role would consider it heresy for the road safety agenda to play any part in what F1 does or where it goes. Indeed, many people reading this blog will remember the time before F1 and road safety were linked (this being one of Max Mosley's ideas in 1993).

For those in the FIA wishing to avoid interdepartmental hypocrisy, however, it implies that countries which deliberately endanger lives on the roads should be avoided by F1. Going to places where the death toll is high is not a problem because the FIA can work with such places to reduce it. If the government itself is working cross-purposes. So how does this fit into Bahrain? Well, one of the places where there were deaths in the recent protests was at the Pearl Monument in Manama. Which is a roundabout. In other words, a circular road. And if the reports are to be believed, the army - agents of the government - were responsible for at least some of those deaths.

Nonetheless, I would conclude that this should not be sufficient to exclude Bahrain from consideration as a venue. This was an isolated incident involving a situation not generally considered in the FIA's messages concerning road safety. Nobody is suggesting that Bahrain is usually that cavalier about protests, let alone road safety...

So in conclusion, F1 does have some ethical responsibilities, but those are pretty much self-imposed and not particularly relevant to the situation at hand.

Politically, what can - or should - F1 do to prevent itself from facing similar problems in future?

Would it be possible for F1 to persuade politicians to refrain from actions that would make it difficult for it to race in their countries? Would it be wise?

Bernie Ecclestone has repeatedly said that he is in contact with the Crown Prince of Bahrain over the matter of whether F1 is safe to go there. This indicates that, at least for Bahrain, F1 has a channel with which to attempt political influence. It is certain that at some point, Bernie will have mentioned that peace would help reassure the powers-that-be that it might be possible to race at Sakhir after all.

I do not think anyone would argue that this sort of mild influence in an emergency situation is anything other than beneficial. In fact, many people have been asking for peace in Bahrain who have rather less stake in the matter. However, it does open a question of whether this could be done in other, less urgent circumstances.

It would be tricky. The FIA, as previously mentioned, is apolitical. The fact it still is is not a random decision. It enables them to work with any country in the world. This is especially important given that they are, as previously mentioned, involved in road safety work as well as organising motor racing. If a country believes that the FIA might use politics as a reason to proffer or withhold a Grand Prix, then it is far less likely to be receptive to its views on other matters. Even countries that do get a race will be looking over their shoulders because political viewpoints change rapidly, in many of the countries in which the FIA is involved if not within any part of the F1 paddock itself.

Also, what precisely would qualify as sufficient political cause to prevent a F1 race from being issued? Human rights violations have been cited, but every country has human rights violations of one sort or another. Some have more violations and/or different types than others, but every country has skeletons in the closet. Violence has been suggested too, but apart from violence in places the F1 circus will need, how does one separate the various degrees of violence that are considered permissible and those which are not?

So I would conclude that there is little F1 can do politically to protect itself from this sort of situation, even in terms of relatively uncontroversial things like avoiding politically unstable countries (unless of course the instability is of a type likely to prevent the race being run in the first place).

Is there anything F1's own psuedopolitical structures can learn from the lessons of the Middle East?

This final question reverses the focus. Up to now, it's been a question of if F1 should give the world anything from an ethico-political perspective. Now it's whether the world can give anything to F1.

In Bahrain Bother 1, I mentioned Frank Herbert's quote that "the layered society is an invitation to violence". While nobody is suggesting that anyone will ever get into fisticuffs over F1's psuedopolitics, the verbal equivalent is not only possible but has happened on numerous occasions.

The powers-that-be in F1 have many layers. Drivers, teams, officials, the FIA, CVC/Bernie, circuit organisers... ...so many interest groups, so little equality, so much potential for trouble.

It is difficult to use the standard political response to repair the issue. "Democracy" in F1 could never be especially representative because even surveys of F1 supporters have never netted much more than 100,000 total, despite the true number being well into the millions in many countries. Hardly the basis for a representative governance.

As for internal representativeness, there's a surfeit of those. FOTA, GPDA, OWG, MBNP (OK, I made the last one up...**). They don't seem to get to do a huge amount because of the pre-established power structures. Said structures seem to spend half their time getting in each other's way, let alone the way of these upstarts. It would take a wholesale reorganisation to stop this from happening but nobody seems to have the authority, let alone the appetite, to do it by themselves...

F1 can learn from the Middle East that there's an inherent problem with its structure. That said, the different countries there are each coming up with their own solutions to the problem of an inherently unstable layered society and so will F1.

Conclusions

F1 isn't very political, cannot become very political, but sadly cannot justify sending their people to Bahrain yet. It can certainly learn from the Middle East but applying the lessons will be difficult.

* - Jordan the country, I hasten to add, not Jordan the TV pundit...

** - MBNP hypothetically means Massive Bunch of Noisy People.