THE NON-NEGOTIABLE VALUES

In recent years, Formula 1 has demonstrated an extraordinary ability to grow as a global product. The numbers validate the commercial strategy, expansion into new markets is evident, and the brand is stronger than ever. And yet, even as the industry applauds, one question lingers: how much room is left for self-criticism?

Because there is one aspect that separates truly mature categories from those that are simply successful: the ability to step back when a decision proves to be wrong.

In this sense, paradoxically, Formula 1 could look to NASCAR.

NASCAR has gone through controversial phases. It introduced the playoff system to increase the narrative tension of the season finale, then revised it multiple times once it became clear that certain dynamics felt artificial or inconsistent with sporting meritocracy. It experimented with hybrid circuits like the Charlotte ROVAL, only to scale back their importance when it became evident that, while media-friendly, they risked diluting the category’s historical identity.

It has even reconsidered its communication and cultural approach. At times, it fully embraced certain politically correct narratives, only to rebalance its stance when a significant portion of its core fanbase expressed discomfort. This is not about ideological retreat, but about understanding that a sport lives in the balance between evolution and roots.

NASCAR has shown that it knows how to listen. Not always perfectly, not always without controversy. But it has demonstrated a fundamental quality: flexibility.

Formula 1, on the other hand, often appears unable to question its own structural decisions. Once a direction is set, it is defended to the very end—even when clear signs of imbalance begin to emerge.

Sprint races, increasing regulatory complexity, and the extreme dependence on energy management within the power units: every decision is presented as inevitable, almost irreversible. And yet, motorsport should never lose sight of its founding principles: driver centrality, merit-based competition, pure performance.

In Formula 1, industrial compromises are far more significant than in NASCAR. Manufacturers invest billions, technical decisions carry political implications, and the entry or exit of an engine supplier can reshape global balances. It is understandable that the room for maneuver is more limited.

But precisely for this reason, it becomes even more crucial to preserve the core values—the ones I would define as “non-negotiable.”

When a sport stops questioning its own foundations, it enters a closed loop. Numbers grow, sponsors increase, audiences expand. Everything appears to be working, but beneath the surface, a silent fracture can form between product and identity.

NASCAR, despite its many contradictions, has understood that identity is its most valuable asset: ovals, wheel-to-wheel battles, physical contact, unpredictability. Every time it has drifted too far from that essence, it has corrected its course.

Formula 1, instead, seems convinced that economic growth alone guarantees sporting legitimacy.

The problem is that motorsport does not live on revenue alone. It lives on symbols, on extreme acts, on individuals doing what others cannot. If technology begins to overshadow the human element, if energy management becomes more important than attacking under braking, the narrative risks being emptied.

And when the narrative fades, the viewer remains. But the true fan drifts away.

No one is asking Formula 1 to become NASCAR. The cultural, economic, and technical contexts are fundamentally different. But there is a universal lesson: the greatness of a sport is not measured only by its ability to innovate, but by the clarity with which it can correct itself. Going back on your steps is not a defeat—it is maturity.

If certain regulatory choices prove harmful to the quality of competition, if certain compromises undermine the central role of the driver, if the spectacle becomes overly manufactured, the answer cannot be stubbornness.

True leadership is not about imposing a direction, but about knowing when to change it. Otherwise, the risk is falling into a dangerous loop: commercial growth, erosion of identity, further spectacle to compensate, and increasing distance from the roots—until the heart of the sport becomes unrecognizable.

Formula 1 has survived political wars, economic crises, and technical revolutions. It will survive this phase as well.

But the real question is another: does it simply want to survive as a global product, or does it want to remain the pinnacle of motorsport?

Perhaps the answer does not lie in further innovation, but in remembering—once and for all—what its non-negotiable values truly are.

© Simone Marchetti Cavalieri