bout two years ago, while wandering through the shelves of my local bookstore, I picked up “The Club,” a history of the English Premier League, by Joshua Robinson and Jonathan Clegg. Football, proper football—or soccer for American readers— is one of the few sports that I’ll watch and enjoy (go Chelsea, *queue inbound hate mail*), but it isn’t something I’ll typically read about. But was I glad I picked up Robinson and Clegg’s book. An absolutely engrossing account of the business and politics of the Premier League and how a sports series from the United Kingdom took over the world.
After finishing their book I took to X, née Twitter, to declare my enjoyment, adding a proviso: I hoped they would turn their attention to Formula One, which was and remains my favorite sport. Rather amusingly, I received the “bug–eyed” emoji back from Mr. Clegg. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but clearly something was cooking. Fast–forward to last autumn when they announced the forthcoming publication of “The Formula.” I’m not saying I called it, but I kind of did.
Not only was “The Formula” worth the wait, but Robinson and Clegg managed to exceed even my high expectations. The breadth and depth of their coverage, their incredible access to the teams and drivers, and the narrative pace of “The Formula” capture everything that I love about Formula One.
At its core “The Formula” is a modern history of Formula One racing, its highs and lows, and the key players in the sport’s evolution, growth, and expansion. It is a high–speed read with all the twists and turns of the best tracks in the world. Some of the figures will be familiar to new fans—team principals like Mercedes Benz’ Toto Wolff and Red Bull’s Christian Horner, and their respective lead drivers Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen. Some will not—fans of Netflix’s “Drive to Survive” are unlikely to have a clue who Bernie Ecclestone or Max Mosley are. Liberty Media, the new owners of F1, may be quite alright with the controversial and crafty Eccleston’s relegation to the history books. His role in the sport’s creation and expansion is, however, undeniable–without Ecclestone, Formula One would likely not be what it is today.
New fans may be familiar with the controversy over Verstappen’s first driver’s championship in which the rules were, arguably, incorrectly interpreted (which Robinson and Clegg cover at length), putting him in position to overtake Hamilton and win in 2021. They are unlikely to have a clue about “Spygate” or “crashgate,” the former in which a Ferrari engineer handing over reams of sensitive information to a competitor (nearly 500 pages worth of engineering designs and data) and the latter, where a driver purposefully crash his car in Singapore in 2008 to give his teammate an advantage.
These personalities and stories are just part of what makes F1 so fun and fascinating to watch, and what has made the Netflix series so popular. At its core, F1 is a truly nerdy sport in which engineers, aerodynamicists, and data scientists vie for a competitive edge, selectively interpreting the rules to find gray zones to eke out tenths or hundredths of a second—often the margin between victory and defeat. The drivers, of whom there are only 20 across the ten current teams (which could expand in the future), are the peak of their sport. The teams crisscross the globe competing across (now) 24 races over the course of a season, covering every continent except Africa and Antarctica. It is a truly global sport that is finally making significant in–roads in the American market, though for as smooth as this process began, it is encountering some dirty air, as the engineers would say.
“The Formula” arrives at a time that can only be described as sheer chaos off–track for Formula One. The evolution and maturation of the sport that Robinson and Clegg highlight, and the attempts by Liberty Media to Americanize and grow the brand, have run headfirst into successive controversies and drama.
The opening of the 2024 season was more exciting off the track than on the asphalt, which saw Max Verstappen resume his dominance, winning the Bahrain and Saudi Grands Prix with little effort. In response, many complained that the sport had become stale. This was and remains a new and American fan issue, really. The pre-Netflix era saw long-runs of dominance from Ferrari’s Michael Schumacher and the aforementioned Hamilton with little complaint from fans. The competition for the midfield remains incredibly exciting, but a new generation weaned on high-drama are clamoring for more.
An investigation into allegations of professional misconduct and harassment by Oracle Red Bull Racing Team Principal Horner cleared him of wrongdoing, only for alleged evidence of his misconduct to be sent to nearly every F1 team and journalist. The ongoing saga of his misbehavior and internal team fighting may well see him dismissed and have certainly thrown a wrench into Red Bull’s precision works. Shortly thereafter, allegations of interference by FIA (Federation Internationale de l'Automobile - the governing body of autosport) president Mohammed Ben Sulayem emerged. A whistleblower reported that Ben Sulayem intervened to overturn a penalty on Aston Martin driver Fernando Alonso in the 2023 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix and, also, told officials not to certify the Las Vegas circuit for its inaugural Grand Prix.
Undoubtedly Liberty Media’s executives are tearing their hair out at these developments. Dramatic though they are, they are not the kind of drama that Liberty sought to cultivate on or off the track, and risks undermining the marketing push the group is making. The saga around Horner risks alienating young women—a key target of Liberty’s re–branding—and allegations of tampering by Formula One leadership could turn off fans new to the sport who could come to see it as not playing on an even track.
Liberty Media’s takeover of Formula One is attempting to modernize, monetize, and Americanize the sport. Some of this was long overdue. Lewis Hamilton was repeatedly served with cease–and–desist notices for sharing behind–the–scenes photos of F1 on his Instagram page; F1 was decidedly not ready for the social media era. The coverage of the races was stale and lacked the slick production and graphical overlays of other sports. Some of the updates are, however, encountering resistance and their future remains to be seen.
The efforts to Americanize the sport and make the races more event-like a la the Super Bowl are less appealing, certainly for old fans, but possibly new fans as well. The Las Vegas Grand Prix—the newly added third race based in America—was the epitome of this with a “Hunger Games”-like introduction for the drivers and more off–track theater and promotion than anything else. The Miami Grand Prix (the second U.S.-based race added to the calendar) had the drivers introduced by LL Cool J against a throbbing rap background, which was quite possibly one of the most cringe–worthy things of the year.
Liberty Media aims to replicate the success of the modernization of Premier League football. Like the Premier League, the F1 fan base is global (and becoming increasingly diverse), but many fans are fans in apparel or presentation only, they may never go to a race in-person and may not actually sit down over the course of a race weekend to watch practice, qualifying, and the actual race itself, but they consider themselves to be fans, nonetheless.
There is no shortage of sports writing available today. Every sport produces its own ecosystem of professional journalists and online pundits alike. It is often difficult to sort the wheat from the chaff when the ecosystem is drowning in content. Amidst this backdrop, great sports writing is thus increasingly rare; the type of writing that makes a sport accessible and interesting not just to fans, but to the broader world. Think of Michael Lewis’ “Moneyball”—who would imagine that the data–driven approach of the then–middling Oakland Athletics would capture such widespread attention and interest, let alone be turned into a film? That it did so is the result of great writing by Lewis, but also a testament to the way he captured the subject, bringing it to audiences well beyond baseball fans.
Robinson and Clegg’s “The Formula” is great sports journalism. For regular readers of their reporting or their books—“The Club” and “Messi vs. Ronaldo”—this is not a surprise. They consistently pen brilliant stories about Premier League football and Formula One that capture not just what happened on the pitch or the track, but what that means about the broader business and politics of sports. The core content of the stories themselves are interesting, of course, but it is how these developments fit into that broader context that makes good sports journalism great.
“The Formula” has the race pace of the Netflix series “Drive to Survive,” which has brought so many new fans into the sport, but with a level of depth and detail that does much to explain just why those 20 drivers racing around global circuits are so captivating. For long–time fans of the sport no explanation is needed, but this book remains a thrilling read., For new entrants and fans this book is invaluable, and Robinson and Clegg may well have done as much as Netflix to expand the sport’s reach.
a global affairs media network
The thrilling twists and turns of Formula One’s global rise
March 16, 2024
Joshua Robinson and Jonathan Clegg’s latest book “The Formula” is a modern history of F1 racing. From old controversies to the sport’s current shot at modernization to reach wider audiences, the book brings key personalities to life and beat reviewer Joshua Huminski’s already high expectations.
A
bout two years ago, while wandering through the shelves of my local bookstore, I picked up “The Club,” a history of the English Premier League, by Joshua Robinson and Jonathan Clegg. Football, proper football—or soccer for American readers— is one of the few sports that I’ll watch and enjoy (go Chelsea, *queue inbound hate mail*), but it isn’t something I’ll typically read about. But was I glad I picked up Robinson and Clegg’s book. An absolutely engrossing account of the business and politics of the Premier League and how a sports series from the United Kingdom took over the world.
After finishing their book I took to X, née Twitter, to declare my enjoyment, adding a proviso: I hoped they would turn their attention to Formula One, which was and remains my favorite sport. Rather amusingly, I received the “bug–eyed” emoji back from Mr. Clegg. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but clearly something was cooking. Fast–forward to last autumn when they announced the forthcoming publication of “The Formula.” I’m not saying I called it, but I kind of did.
Not only was “The Formula” worth the wait, but Robinson and Clegg managed to exceed even my high expectations. The breadth and depth of their coverage, their incredible access to the teams and drivers, and the narrative pace of “The Formula” capture everything that I love about Formula One.
At its core “The Formula” is a modern history of Formula One racing, its highs and lows, and the key players in the sport’s evolution, growth, and expansion. It is a high–speed read with all the twists and turns of the best tracks in the world. Some of the figures will be familiar to new fans—team principals like Mercedes Benz’ Toto Wolff and Red Bull’s Christian Horner, and their respective lead drivers Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen. Some will not—fans of Netflix’s “Drive to Survive” are unlikely to have a clue who Bernie Ecclestone or Max Mosley are. Liberty Media, the new owners of F1, may be quite alright with the controversial and crafty Eccleston’s relegation to the history books. His role in the sport’s creation and expansion is, however, undeniable–without Ecclestone, Formula One would likely not be what it is today.
New fans may be familiar with the controversy over Verstappen’s first driver’s championship in which the rules were, arguably, incorrectly interpreted (which Robinson and Clegg cover at length), putting him in position to overtake Hamilton and win in 2021. They are unlikely to have a clue about “Spygate” or “crashgate,” the former in which a Ferrari engineer handing over reams of sensitive information to a competitor (nearly 500 pages worth of engineering designs and data) and the latter, where a driver purposefully crash his car in Singapore in 2008 to give his teammate an advantage.
These personalities and stories are just part of what makes F1 so fun and fascinating to watch, and what has made the Netflix series so popular. At its core, F1 is a truly nerdy sport in which engineers, aerodynamicists, and data scientists vie for a competitive edge, selectively interpreting the rules to find gray zones to eke out tenths or hundredths of a second—often the margin between victory and defeat. The drivers, of whom there are only 20 across the ten current teams (which could expand in the future), are the peak of their sport. The teams crisscross the globe competing across (now) 24 races over the course of a season, covering every continent except Africa and Antarctica. It is a truly global sport that is finally making significant in–roads in the American market, though for as smooth as this process began, it is encountering some dirty air, as the engineers would say.
“The Formula” arrives at a time that can only be described as sheer chaos off–track for Formula One. The evolution and maturation of the sport that Robinson and Clegg highlight, and the attempts by Liberty Media to Americanize and grow the brand, have run headfirst into successive controversies and drama.
The opening of the 2024 season was more exciting off the track than on the asphalt, which saw Max Verstappen resume his dominance, winning the Bahrain and Saudi Grands Prix with little effort. In response, many complained that the sport had become stale. This was and remains a new and American fan issue, really. The pre-Netflix era saw long-runs of dominance from Ferrari’s Michael Schumacher and the aforementioned Hamilton with little complaint from fans. The competition for the midfield remains incredibly exciting, but a new generation weaned on high-drama are clamoring for more.
An investigation into allegations of professional misconduct and harassment by Oracle Red Bull Racing Team Principal Horner cleared him of wrongdoing, only for alleged evidence of his misconduct to be sent to nearly every F1 team and journalist. The ongoing saga of his misbehavior and internal team fighting may well see him dismissed and have certainly thrown a wrench into Red Bull’s precision works. Shortly thereafter, allegations of interference by FIA (Federation Internationale de l'Automobile - the governing body of autosport) president Mohammed Ben Sulayem emerged. A whistleblower reported that Ben Sulayem intervened to overturn a penalty on Aston Martin driver Fernando Alonso in the 2023 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix and, also, told officials not to certify the Las Vegas circuit for its inaugural Grand Prix.
Undoubtedly Liberty Media’s executives are tearing their hair out at these developments. Dramatic though they are, they are not the kind of drama that Liberty sought to cultivate on or off the track, and risks undermining the marketing push the group is making. The saga around Horner risks alienating young women—a key target of Liberty’s re–branding—and allegations of tampering by Formula One leadership could turn off fans new to the sport who could come to see it as not playing on an even track.
Liberty Media’s takeover of Formula One is attempting to modernize, monetize, and Americanize the sport. Some of this was long overdue. Lewis Hamilton was repeatedly served with cease–and–desist notices for sharing behind–the–scenes photos of F1 on his Instagram page; F1 was decidedly not ready for the social media era. The coverage of the races was stale and lacked the slick production and graphical overlays of other sports. Some of the updates are, however, encountering resistance and their future remains to be seen.
The efforts to Americanize the sport and make the races more event-like a la the Super Bowl are less appealing, certainly for old fans, but possibly new fans as well. The Las Vegas Grand Prix—the newly added third race based in America—was the epitome of this with a “Hunger Games”-like introduction for the drivers and more off–track theater and promotion than anything else. The Miami Grand Prix (the second U.S.-based race added to the calendar) had the drivers introduced by LL Cool J against a throbbing rap background, which was quite possibly one of the most cringe–worthy things of the year.
Liberty Media aims to replicate the success of the modernization of Premier League football. Like the Premier League, the F1 fan base is global (and becoming increasingly diverse), but many fans are fans in apparel or presentation only, they may never go to a race in-person and may not actually sit down over the course of a race weekend to watch practice, qualifying, and the actual race itself, but they consider themselves to be fans, nonetheless.
There is no shortage of sports writing available today. Every sport produces its own ecosystem of professional journalists and online pundits alike. It is often difficult to sort the wheat from the chaff when the ecosystem is drowning in content. Amidst this backdrop, great sports writing is thus increasingly rare; the type of writing that makes a sport accessible and interesting not just to fans, but to the broader world. Think of Michael Lewis’ “Moneyball”—who would imagine that the data–driven approach of the then–middling Oakland Athletics would capture such widespread attention and interest, let alone be turned into a film? That it did so is the result of great writing by Lewis, but also a testament to the way he captured the subject, bringing it to audiences well beyond baseball fans.
Robinson and Clegg’s “The Formula” is great sports journalism. For regular readers of their reporting or their books—“The Club” and “Messi vs. Ronaldo”—this is not a surprise. They consistently pen brilliant stories about Premier League football and Formula One that capture not just what happened on the pitch or the track, but what that means about the broader business and politics of sports. The core content of the stories themselves are interesting, of course, but it is how these developments fit into that broader context that makes good sports journalism great.
“The Formula” has the race pace of the Netflix series “Drive to Survive,” which has brought so many new fans into the sport, but with a level of depth and detail that does much to explain just why those 20 drivers racing around global circuits are so captivating. For long–time fans of the sport no explanation is needed, but this book remains a thrilling read., For new entrants and fans this book is invaluable, and Robinson and Clegg may well have done as much as Netflix to expand the sport’s reach.
