The golden age of auto racing!

!
!

There was a time when racing was beautiful. When it was unchained. When speed and

style reigned supreme. When public roads were cordoned-off (usually) and used as circuits.
When man and machine were pushed to the absolute limits, screaming down the mulsanne
straight in heal-toe harmony. The drivers, engineers, and coachbuilders were artists and this
was their medium. !
!

This was before the utilitarian designs of today. Now the circuits are wide, flat, and un-

inspired. The cars are designed with only function in mind, and the engines are constantly being
limited and downsized. Once, companies produced barely-legal road cars to fund their racing
program. Now its flipped, the racetrack has become a test-track for new technology in
consumer automobiles. The cart is ahead of the horse. If it doesnt translate into maximum
profit, it doesn't race. Gone is the bio-mechanical, high-speed ballet. Enter the age of hybrid,
computer-controlled, strictly governed, mass-entertainment. We are living in a time when
modern formula one cars have been turbocharged not in the name of increased power, (ala.
1980s), but for reduced emissions. Due to this, they are so quiet and dull that they must be
artificially amplified - a technology now used in the once sacred BMW M3. !
!

Its certainly amazing how far weve come, technologically speaking. Every year we

develop new aerodynamic technologies (which are usually outlawed the following season).
Turbocharging has come a long way from the binary-threshold days of old (further deadening
exhaust sound). And dual clutch transmissions can shift in the blink of an eye (removing one
more element of driver-skill). !
!

Our modern circuits are quite impressive. With towering stands, futuristic architecture,

and lots of shiny glass; they are a marvel to behold. The massive run-offs, sand-pits, and lack of
general elevation change means theyre safer than ever before too. But for all their expensive

glory, the cars and tracks lack something very important. Something so fundamental, its taken
for granted. As Sir Jim Clark put it, When I drove, the racing was dangerous and the sex was
safe. Now, sex is dangerous and racing is safe. Racing has lost its anima, or soul. !
!

Make no mistake, I am not advocating for less safe tracks and cars. Any death in the

sport is a tragedy, Ayrton Sennas certainly was. He was one of the greatest drivers Formula
One has ever known. When he died that fateful day at Imola, racing was forever changed. !
Chicanes were placed in key areas of tracks. Runoff areas expanded. Safer, more forgiving
walls were erected. It all lead to a revolution in racing safety, and as a result, there are now far
fewer deaths in the sport, which is certainly a good thing. However, the golden age of auto
racing may have died along Senna. It seems that in the relentless pursuit of safety, some anima
has been sucked away. !
!

Racetracks used to have trees lining either side, they would go up and over crests. A

race was like going for a quick jaunt through the woods at break-neck speed. They were organic
and fundamentally a part of their surroundings, as if they had grown out of the landscape just as
everything else had. Every track was of its place. No two looked the same, even in the same
country. At a glance, one could easily tell the Nurburgring was German and Monza was Italian. I
challenge you to do the same with Yas Marina and Shanghai International Circuit. Now, they are
fundamentally apart from their surroundings. !
!

The cars themselves also used to be works of passion. They were designed by small

teams of young, ambitious minds, scraped together on a shoestring budget, and styled by
artists. Now, it is more an exercise in corporate R&D than anything els. ! !
!

We cant go back in time, and I dont see the upper echelons of racing changing any

time soon. Rather, I call for we the people to embrace cars for their beauty and driving pleasure,
not pure speed. Appreciate craftsmanship in the wood, leather, and carbon fiber. Let us dance
through the curves, down the narrow straight-aways, and over the undulating tarmac. Listen as

your engine sings. Be soothed by the tactile connection of analogue driving. Breathe in the
gasoline vapors and burnt rubber. Forget for a moment the grind of the daily commute. Imagine
the endless expanse, full of empty winding roads. The world is at your fingertips. Reach out and
take the wheel. A little fun wont kill you. Besides, speed-limits are only a social construct.