Archive: Europe

I have written before about the stick the Australian Grand Prix bosses are getting from all angles. Even since I wrote that post, Bernie Ecclestone’s demands have become ever more extreme. In particular, Mr Ecclestone’s current obsession with night races appears to have deepened. His comments suggest that he very much wants to have his cake and eat it. For me, the logic behind night races is muddled and confused.

We know that Bernie Ecclestone wants Formula 1 to expand its reach throughout the globe, particularly into Asia. The motivation behind this approach is fairly sound. Take F1 to the people of Asia, and the people of Asia will come to F1, building on the sport’s strong fanbase in Europe and expanding it eastward.

However, I wonder if Bernie Ecclestone’s motives are really as noble and simple as that. The more this project continues, the more it begins to look like Bernie Ecclestone is simply out to persuade gullible governments of developing countries to pay through the nose for the privilege of having an F1 race. Many of these governments will do anything to feel like members of the western club of developed nations, and where better to start than that most global — yet still quintessentially western — of sports, motor racing?

Yet, you have to wonder if these governments are really getting value for money. I think not. How long will it take before the good people of Bahrain, Singapore, Abu Dhabi, et al. realise they are being swindled?

Until that happens, it is by exploiting this situation that Bernie Ecclestone is able to pull the same trick on not-so-gullible western governments. “Look at all these other Grands Prix that are subsidised,” he says. “Why can’t you do the same?” This is the heart of Ecclestone’s demands to the organisers of the British, French and Australian Grands Prix among others that have the Sword of Damocles dangling above them.

The demands for a night race show up Ecclestone’s muddled thinking and hypocrisy. The idea behind night races is so that the ‘flyaway’ races can be broadcast on prime time television in Europe, where F1′s strongest base of support is. But this completely contradicts the supposed big idea behind hosting races in places like Asia in the first place.

Why take F1 to Asia then make the residents of these places get up in the middle of the night to watch them? Why, indeed, should the residents of Melbourne — or, indeed, Singapore City — be asked to put up with wailing F1 engines at 3am?

Meanwhile, the fact that the time difference means that European F1 fans have to get up in the middle of the night to watch the Australian Grand Prix is one of the things that defines us as F1 fans. We like to get up at silly o’clock to watch F1 — it is part of the quaint charm of the Australian and Japanese Grands Prix. Perhaps, like Ollie, I might not even be interested in F1 today had I not viewed Formula 1 as a cheeky opportunity to stay up late at night as a youngster.

Okay, so not all fans will be bothered to get up at 3am to watch this weekend’s Australian Grand Prix. But there will be a damn sight more Europeans than Asians willing to get up at 3am for F1. The big idea behind night races has now unravelled.

The only other thing a night race has going for it is the pure spectacle of seeing F1 cars racing under floodlights. I am sorry, but I just can’t get excited about that.

I watched last weekend’s Qatar MotoGP, the first race to be held under floodlights. But it was clear that the night time conditions added little to the spectacle. The only time it looked much different was from the overhead helicopter view of the circuit. Apart from that, the only difference was a few funny shadows. Big whoop!

By the end of the race, the BBC’s excellent commentators Charlie Cox and Steve Parrish (take note ITV — the Beeb know how to cover a motor race properly!), were just asking themselves, “Why a night race?” The best answer was, because we can. Is that reason enough?

The commentators also touched on the environmental impact. When Formula 1 is supposedly trying to become a greener sport, it is now asking race organisers to generate ridiculously huge amounts of electricity.

Many of the big ideas that Bernie Ecclestone and Max Mosley propose contradict each other in fundamental ways. The lack of joined-up thinking in Ecclestone’s current demands for night races, Asian venues and street circuits astonishes me.

Oh dear. SNP MSP Christopher Harvie has found himself in a spot of bother for comments he has made about Lockerbie and the Scottish yoof.

On getting to Lockerbie, I discovered that the place is a dump – it was Tescotown. It should really have a certain attraction of a rather sombre kind as a place where something terrible happened; there are, after all, places on the western front and that sort of thing that have such an attraction for families who have lost people there.

There are a few things about this paragraph that are a bit off for me. I might be completely right to say that Lockerbie is a dump. I have never been, but frankly it wouldn’t surprise me. There are plenty of dumps around the place, and Lockerbie isn’t exactly known for its beautiful beaches or rolling hills.

Jeff is right when he says that if Lockerbie is a dump, Christopher Harvie should be able to say so. It should not be exempt from analysis because of the fact that it is the scene of the country’s worst terrorist atrocity.

But here is the thing. Christopher Harvie seems to be saying that Lockerbie should be positioning itself as a potential tourist attraction to help rake in the money from fans of disasters. As Mushkush implies, the idea leaves a slightly sour taste in the mouth.

Following that he turns his guns on the much maligned youth of the country. They cannot get a second of peace from the establishment’s whining about the yoof.

They are a demographic that literally cannot win. If they spend too long indoors playing their Xboxes they are criticised for not getting enough exercise and causing an “OBESITY EPIDEMIC“.

If they do the opposite and dare to go outside to get some fresh air and happen to commit the heinous crime of wearing warm clothing they get called names like “hoodie” and “yob”. And everyone points at them and says, “Why are you standing on the street corner? It is so intimidating.” As though just standing around is intimidating.

If they are not on the corner but are standing in the vicinity of a shop some ridiculous person comes along and installs a discriminatory device that is deliberately designed to cause youths pain. And people wonder why today’s young people are disaffected.

Anyway, Mr Harvie has added himself to the long list of poshy snooty types criticising yoof fashions. You know, fair enough on that front. Some people do wear horrendous clothing. But why is he attacking Tom Hunter for it? I thought the SNP were meant to be aligning themselves as a pro-business party. But Christopher Harvie’s comments are about as anti-business as it gets.

It must also be said that the most immense fortune that has been made in Scotland in the past few years – that of Tom Hunter – has arisen from selling people what must be the ugliest clothes worn by anyone on the entire continent.

Tom Hunter is one of Scotland’s most successful businessmen. If Mr Harvie’s theory is true, then Mr Hunter has done the country’s people a great service–selling people clothes that they want. He spotted a gap in the market. It is what great businessmen do best. It should be celebrated. But Christopher Harvie just looks down his nose at it.

There are also echoes of this anti-business sentiment with his dismissal of Lockerbie as “Tescotown”. It is the most successful business in Britain, which makes it the butt of ill thought out jibes like this. What does it even mean to be a Tescotown anyway? My town has a Tesco as well–does that mean I should just go and top myself now?

Christopher Harvie Anyway, back to fashion. What clothing would Christopher Harvie prefer people to wear? Knickerbockers. Goodness me. Apparently his personal preference is for plus fours. And look at that awful check jacket. Holyrood Watcher rightly takes him to task.

For me, this whole issue highlights a problem with the electoral system currently in use for Scottish Parliament elections.

Christopher Harvie was the SNP’s candidate where I live in Kirkcaldy. During the campaign he began to get a bit of a reputation as a “mad professor” among some locals. From today’s comments it looks as though he earned that reputation.

Even Brian Taylor has used slightly colourful language on his blog to call Mr Harvie ‘The Nutty Professor‘. And according to Kezia Dugdale, “Rumour has it the SNP were waiting for an episode like this but were surprised it has taken so long.” In addition to Christine Grahame, it looks like the SNP has its second major loose cannon.

Prior to Mr Harvie’s campaign, I was considering voting for the SNP as an anti-Labour tactical vote (not that it would have done much good anyway). But I did not want to vote for Christopher Harvie. He lost in Kirkcaldy. Yet, today he is an MSP. He got in through the back door on the list vote.

No-one voted for him to win his seat. People only voted for the SNP as a party–or Alex Salmond For First Minister, as they were known on the ballot papers. What a shock those voters will have got, thinking they were voting for Alex Salmond and instead getting Christopher Harvie!

The problem with the list system is that it gives voters the minimum amount of power possible. Voters have no control over the candidates. Positions on the are determined internally within the parties. This makes the MSPs accountable not to the voters, but to internal party structures. This allows too many poor candidates become MSPs and fills the Parliament with lackeys. The Scottish Parliament needs a heavy dose of Single Transferable Vote to weed out these people.

One last thing. I really don’t get this quote from Jackie Baillie on Christopher Harvie’s comments.

“He represents a supposedly pro-European party but displays the worst kind of euro-phobia.”

He singled out Scotland’s youths for criticism, and said they were the worst in Europe! How this is supposed to be a display of Euro-phobia beats me.

Unfortunately, this does not tie in with my theory about the inadequate list MSPs. I have to conclude that Dumbarton is one of Scotland’s many Labour rotten boroughs.

Update: This post has been published over at Liberal Conspiracy here. To keep the discussion in one place, I will close the comments on this post. If you have any comments please post them here.

What do you think the word ‘liberal’ means?

Perhaps if you are American, you are thinking of what Europeans call social democrats. Maybe some Europeans think of it as some kind of wishy-washy centrism that can’t decide between left and right. In certain countries it may have something to do with a pro-business approach. If you’re Australian it probably means the same as conservative.

A pre condition of liberalism might be the existence of free markets. Or maybe liberalism is to do with equality of some kind or another. Animal rights? Environmentalism? [insert trendy cause here]? Smith, Mill or Kant? Etc, etc. It seems to me that the word ‘liberal’ is about as useful as words like ‘that’ and ‘thingy’.

As such, it wasn’t really a surprise that the name of Sunny Hundal’s new ‘superblog’, Liberal Conspiracy, provoked some debate about the nature of liberalism when it was launched a month or so back. “My liberalism is more liberal than yours” and that type of thing.

I would agree that, looking at the list of contributors, ‘Socialist Conspiracy’ might have been a more apt title. For instance, Jonathan Calder noted the lack of Liberal Democrats involved.

It looks like a conspiracy against Liberals.

In fairness, apart from the title (which I actually find quite amusing — it makes a good point), the site is describing itself as liberal-left rather than just liberal. Fair enough I guess, although I always thought that people describing themselves as ‘liberal-left’ were really just socialists trying to duck jibes about the Judean People’s Front.

Even the design of the website looks rather more socialist than liberal. The dark maroon colour scheme, Impact font and spatter marks make it look like some kind of SWP-affiliated website.

Anyway, liberalism. The thing that vexes me about this is the fact that — you guessed it — I describe myself as a liberal. This is mostly because I don’t know of a better term. (If you don’t know about my political views, take a look at my position on the political compass.)

When I describe myself as a liberal that means I am talking about limited government. It can’t be no government. Liberalism can’t be the same as anarchism. The question becomes “how big can a government acceptably be?” And even the most hardcore libertarians (as in the free market kind, lest there be any confusion) see the need for a government in order to protect property rights and prevent force and fraud.

A liberal (excuse the pun) interpretation of that could still leave quite a wide scope for government intervention. It might not be too controversial, for instance, for a government to step in when an activity causes a clear and unambiguous negative externality.

The classic example of a negative externality is pollution. A factory may dump pollution into a river that runs into land owned by another person. The government is duty bound to protect this property, so it would have to step in. Incidentally, I don’t think this approach is too far removed from Mill’s “harm principle”.

Liberalism “doctorvee style” goes a bit further than this. This is why you would tend not to find me using the word ‘libertarian’ to describe my political views. In my view, the government should also step in to prevent certain kinds of market failure. For instance, public goods will be under-supplied by the market.

I find it difficult to imagine how, for instance, street lights would be paid for in a strictly free market system. I can be a (critical) supporter of the BBC and still describe myself as a liberal without flinching because the BBC is a non-rival, non-excludable public good.

But for me, the bottom line is to be suspicious of any extension of government power, and to resist it unless there is overwhelming evidence of the need for it. If you take civil liberties and economic efficiency seriously, there can be no other way. History tells us to treat governments with contempt. When did you ever hear of a riot happening because the government was too small?

Given that most left-wing solutions to any problem usually involve a liberal (sorry) dose of extra government intervention, it shouldn’t be a surprise that Liberal Conspiracy found itself at the receiving end of some jibes about the term ‘liberal-left’ being an oxymoron. I think this is a tad unfair. It is possible to be left-wing / collectivist and anti-government at the same time (all I can say is, good luck solving the free rider problem).

However, it is not difficult to find instances of the Liberal Conspiracy being distinctly illiberal. One of the first posts on the blog was defending the government’s idea of forcibly keeping children in education until the age of 18. Not only that, but the writer, Mike Ion, said:

I struggle to understand why anyone on the Left of British politics could oppose Gordon Brown’s moves

It’s quite funny how I decided that my version of liberalism should keep the ‘liberal’ name. Has anybody got any better ideas?

For what it’s worth, I think the ‘liberal-left’ should just drop the pretence and call themselves socialists.

As for the (free market) libertarians? David Farrer grappled with this a few weeks back, and lamented the fact that both the ‘liberal’ and ‘libertarian’ tags have been stolen by leftists. I like his suggestion of using the unstealable “Real Fascist Bastard” tag.

But perhaps they could take inspiration from one of Hayek’s favoured terms. How about calling themselves catallactists? It would be a bit difficult for a socialist to use that one with a straight face!

Ofcom has said that it is thinking about letting television stations broadcast more adverts. Ofcom are considering allowing nine minutes of advertising per hour. Currently an average of seven minutes per hour is allowed, although a maximum of twelve minutes in any one clock hour is permitted.

Longrider is a libertarian but reacts with horror to the news. Meanwhile, Craig is worried about the impact on coverage of Formula 1.

I am no fan of television adverts, but I have to say that I feel sorry for broadcasters in this respect. The comments on the article from Times Online are mostly negative, perhaps encapsulated by this one by Harry Taylor.

Surely not! Is there not too much advertising already, mostly purile, repetitive and often misleading?…

With all its faults give me the BBC.

Of course, if Times Online were to write an article about a proposed increase in the License Fee, everybody would be saying the opposite. But, as they say, there’s no such thing as a free lunch.

Commercial broadcasters are expected to pull excellent programmes out of thin air with the minimum of advertisements. And as we’ve seen this year, another major form of revenue for broadcasters — premium-rate phone-lines — has become a bit of a taboo. People must accept that adverts are a necessary evil — but a balance must be struck.

But for all of their (supposedly) good intentions, a lot of Ofcom’s advertising regulations work against the viewer. Perhaps nowhere is this more evident than Formula 1. F1 has the dubious honour of being the only sport event to be broadcast in the UK where adverts are showing during the action. And football fans complain about adverts during half time! Think about how F1 fans must feel!

Once again, it has to be accepted that adverts in F1 are a necessary evil. F1 is almost unique in that a Grand Prix can last anything from 90 minutes to two hours with no break in the action. (The only other sports I can think of that go on for so long with no breaks are long-distance running and cycling, which are usually not shown live by a commercial broadcaster.) Seemingly, this is just too long for ITV to go without showing an advert. This means that they can’t bunch them up at either side of the action as they do with football.

But does it have to be this way? Many F1 fans would be willing to see some form of compromise, but the solutions put forward are currently prohibited by Ofcom (PDF). The main culprit is pesky article 3.1:

Television advertising must be readily recognisable as such and kept quite separate from other parts of the programme service. Breaks containing advertising spots of any kind, including teleshopping spots, must be identified in vision and/or sound, for example station identifications going in and out of breaks.

This means that any way of ITV simultaneously showing both adverts and programming is prohibited. A split-screen solution is often proposed. One part of the screen contains the race action, perhaps as an inset in an advert. But it’s not allowed. Sky Sports News can do it because it is permitted as long as only text is displayed. But even a scrolling text service in this style would not be allowed on ITV, because the rules are stricter for ITV, Channel 4 and Channel Five.

Other reasonable compromises are also prohibited. For instance, ITV would not be allowed to broadcast audio advertisements while race pictures take up the screen. ITV could not even overlay text adverts on top of the race pictures.

All of this is not allowed by Ofcom, probably for noble reasons. But most F1 fans would love to have any one of these solutions over the current situation — where ITV interrupt the race completely and broadcast commercial breaks that last minutes.

Also working against F1 fans is the requirement that ITV must display an ident going in and out of commercial breaks. This prolongs the commerical break for yet more crucial seconds.

Indeed, if you are an F1 fan you might be tempted to suspect that Ofcom’s regulations were specifically designed to get in the way of F1 the most. Because, despite the constant references to how commercials should only appear at “natural breaks” of the programming, one paragraph — which was included specifically with ITV’s F1 coverage in mind — proves that this is all just for show.

In live coverage of long continuous events breaks may be taken at points where the focus of coverage shifts from one point to another of the event for example after a resume of the current placings in a race and before refocusing on a particular section of the race.

So even though there are no “natural breaks” in an F1 race, ITV may show adverts just by giving a run-down of the positions in the race before going to a break, and saying what lap the drivers are on when the adverts are finished.

I also reckon that the rules surrounding the amount and length of commercial breaks also works against F1 viewers. It also works against viewers of football, films, or any other long programme.

Now, my memory of what I am about to say is sketchy. It must have been almost a decade ago and I was still rather young. But I am sure that while I was on holiday in France I watched a commercial break that lasted several minutes. It felt like about fifteen, but it might have been ten minutes. I don’t know. But what I do know is that I would never have seen a commercial break last that long in the UK.

But these breaks were not included willy-nilly in the middle of programmes. The obscenely long commercial break was, in fact, placed out of harm’s way at the end of a football match (or a film, I can’t remember). It was there to make up for the lack of adverts during the programme.* So, while at first a commercial break lasting ten minutes may seem obscenely long, would not most of us prefer this kind of solution? One where the adverts were tucked away where we don’t have to see them?

As such, I would support a liberalisation — or at least a fundamental re-think — of advertising regulations. This is not only for the reasons I have outlined above, but for another reason which is the drive of my liberal view on most things.

Insiders at the regulator are keen to emphasise that they want to avoid coming close to US advert levels, which they believe would be unpalatable to British audiences.

If they were so unpalatable, broadcasters would of course not want to do this for fear of making viewers switch off. No regulations necessary — broadcasters will find the “correct” level of advertising naturally.

I suspect that a few years down the line we won’t have to worry about this at all. Due to the increasing prevalence of PVRs, soon enough we will all be able to record the programmes then fast-forward through the adverts. (I usually already do this when I watch Grands Prix because I am not in a position to watch the races live.)

Advertisers will have to find more and more creative ways to reach viewers. Product placement might be harder to regulate. And soon enough we probably won’t always even realise when we are watching adverts.

* I might actually be completely wrong about this, and the long commercial break may have been caused by some kind of technical mishap or something else. I did not know because I could not speak French, but the scenario I described seems most likely to me.

Formula 1 is waving goodbye to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Or it would be, if it was still there to do so. We’ve already had our last trip there without even knowing about it. It’s like dumping someone by text message.

We tried our best, but in the end it just wouldn’t work out.

Formula 1′s relationship with Indianapolis is about as rocky as it gets — and that really is saying something in F1. In a way, it is amazing to think that, had Indianapolis been a venue next year, it would have been its tenth Formula 1 race. When people look back on the period, some might wonder if it was just a silly experiment that was doomed from the start.

On paper, it was a fantastic idea. One of the world’s most prestigious racing circuits (indeed, the self-styled “Racing Capital of the World”) plays host to the world’s greatest motor racing series.

Unfortunately, there was an elephant in the room. In fact, there wasn’t just one elephant in the room. There were several.

First of all, despite all of its chest-beating, and the reverential treatment which American motor racing fans give it, Indianapolis Motor Speedway is not a great circuit. I was in the room with my father when I heard the news about Indy being dropped. The radio reporter was waxing lyrical about how special the circuit is. My dad instantly spluttered, “No it’s not! It’s an oval!”

So a plan had to be hatched in order to stop Formula 1′s broadly European fan base from being sent into a coma by the prospect of F1 races happening on the oval. They also had to accommodate the fact that F1 drivers are used to racing through corners and, moreover, corners that go both left and right. So an actual circuit that had to be designed by means other than drawing around a protractor was built on the inside of the oval.

The circuit has broadly met with disapproval from those who dislike its ‘stop-start’ nature and “Mickey Mouse” corners. In sum, it was a botch job. You could never escape the fact that it was really an almost unwanted appendage to the oval.

This all stems from the fact that American motor racing culture is so different to European motor racing culture. So while Indianapolis is a Mecca for American petrolheads, Europeans are much more likely to worship the Nürburgring Nordschleife.

I have written about this in the past. In a nutshell, while we Europeans don’t “get” oval racing, Nascar and the like, Americans don’t “get” Formula 1.

It is quite appropriate that I should write about this in the week that David Beckham has moved LA Galaxy. At the moment, commentators are predicting that Americans will be attracted by the glamour, but they probably won’t understand why he is a good footballer. It is said that Americans will be expecting Beckham to score five or six goals a match, without even realising that he isn’t a forward.

Exactly the same is true of F1. I sense that Americans have a sneaking suspicion that Formula 1 is great. But they just don’t understand why it’s great. They expect lots of overtaking! They expect big crashes! But Formula 1 does not supply this enough, instead emphasising aspects like great driving, technical excellence and, er, turning right.

I remember reading an amusing comparison a few years ago. I think it was made by David Richards (correct me if I’m wrong). He said that Nascar is like a cheeseburger, while Formula 1 is like caviare. That sounds like a snobby thing to say, but it has a ring of truth to it.

In this sense, selling F1 to Americans is a little bit like flogging a dead horse.

The next problem was television. In one sense, the US Grand Prix was a dream for Formula 1, because it took place during prime time for Europe. It was a double-edged sword though (in the UK at least) as it meant that ITV had better things to do in prime time than watching cars going round and round on an oval a Mickey Mouse track. So the programme was shortened, with little post-race analysis.

Moreover, viewers had to endure for what felt like half the race a ticker that helpfully informed us that “Coronation Street follows the race”. This was despite the fact that the race was not eating into Coronation Street’s scheduled slot, which was exactly the same slot that it occupies every other Sunday.

Don’t forget that the race was coming from America, which meant that for a couple of years viewers had to endure pictures broadcast in the blurrier, fuzzier NTSC standard rather than the PAL standard which Europeans are used to. Not very good, particularly when we are trying to watch fast-moving cars. A bit more blur is the last thing we need.

The situation was so bad that Bernie Ecclestone, for the only time ever, allowed terrestrial broadcasters to transmit the superior F1 Digital + pictures (shot using FOM’s own equipment) in 2002. Following the closure of F1 Digital + at the end of that season, FOM has thankfully remained as the “host broadcaster” of the US Grand Prix in every subsequent year.

As the icing on the cake, it looked quite bad on the television because there were so many empty seats despite the fact that the US Grand Prix is one of the most highly attended of the year. But whenever the camera had a surplus grandstand situated on a part of the oval that is not used by F1 in the background of the shot, it looked pretty bad.

Then there is a matter of what actually happened on the race track. It is highly unfortunate that some of Formula 1′s very darkest moments have happened at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Canspice puts it succinctly: Formula 1 has consistently shat on Indianapolis.

First of all, there was the manufactured dead heat controversy of 2002. Michael Schumacher slowed down before the finishing line in what was perceived to be a return of the favour that Rubens Barrichello gave him at the Austrian Grand Prix of earlier that year.

What Schumacher forgot while he was cocooned in his cockpit and helmet was that two wrongs do not make a right. And while Barrichello was stripped of his deserved victory in Austria, the American fans were denied the right to see the rightful victor crossing the finish line first. In short, the whole race was pointless.

Amid a cacophony of boos and jeers, Michael Schumacher made up a lame excuse. He was bored of all that winning malarkey and had taken every record in the book. In search for a new challenge, he wanted to manufacture the closest finish to a race ever.

Nice try, Schumi. I know the stereotype is that Americans are not quite as intelligent as some on this side of the pond. But they are not, in fact, stupid. American race fans were taken for mugs that day.

But that was nothing compared to what was to come in 2005. Due in part to the unusual banked Turn 13 (unlucky for everyone in F1 — especially Ralf Schumacher), Michelin tyres were failing. And Turn 13 is one place were you do not want to be driving an unsafe racing car. It was yet another example of why the circuit was just not suitable for Formula 1.

But it was too late to do anything about the layout of the circuit now. At least, it was if your name is Jean Todt or Max Mosley — whose stance on making last-minute alterations to a circuit had completely changed since Barcelona 1994.

There was plenty of buck-passing, finger pointing and blame gaming. Everyone had their opinion as to who was at fault (you can see what I thought at the time by browsing through the archives of this blog). The problem was that all of the extended arms pointing fingers tangled up to make a massive web that the whole of F1 got stuck in.

As such, only six cars took to the grid and American fans were deprived of a proper race. It was hilarious in a sense — partly because it was a farce, and partly because it showed that even with only six cars on the entire track, Michael Schumacher still managed to crash into his team mate. But beyond that, it was more offensive than doing a poo on the dinner table.

Since then, F1 has been on its best behaviour — particularly in America. Almost. Because, despite all of the crap that Formula 1 has flung at Indianapolis, IMS boss Tony George seemed fairly keen to keep the race.

More keen than Bernie Ecclestone was at least. Over the past couple of years, Ecclestone has been lobbing several insults at America, along the lines that Formula 1 doesn’t need America (probably true, as it survived without for most of the 1990s, and never had the full attention of America before and after then either) and that F1 gets more viewers in Malta than in America (demonstrably false).

It is as though, having explosively crapped on the dinner table, Bernie Ecclestone wanted to do a little wee on the carpet just to top it off. Yet, Tony George wanted F1 to keep on visiting Indianapolis. Is he a masochist?

Not really. Because, despite all of the above (and there is a lot of it, as you can see!), Formula 1 had the potential to work at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway — particularly in recent years.

In fairness to the track, it is not actually all that bad. It had grown on me, particularly this year. This year’s race had some interesting overtaking battles on the infield, and this was improved by the tight “left–right–left” switchbacks. These corners do not look attractive and are apparently not fun to drive.

But they ensured that overtaking manoeuvres were prolonged. It was no longer a matter of sticking your car on the inside and breaking later — because your opponent has the inside line to the next corner.

Even though Americans just don’t “get” F1, it is still massively important to them. There were even hints last year that the state could subsidise the Grand Prix!

Also, the businesses of Indianapolis also love the Grand Prix. In fact, it is often their biggest weekend of the year. Amazing when you consider that it is the home of the Indianapolis 500, but there you go. Seemingly, F1 fans are big spenders. But that’s what happens when you’re used to caviare.