Can you be human in Formula 1?
The answer seems obvious, but the The story of Isaac Hadjar forces us to reflect. Melbourne was supposed to be the beginning of a dream, instead it was a nightmare. A mistake in the formation lap, the withdrawal before even starting. A devastating moment for any driver, let alone for a rookie. And the rookie cried. But we are in Formula 1, where coldness is the law, cynicism is a requirement and Hadjar's tears "embarrassing", according to Helmut Marko. A harsh reaction from the Red Bull Racing consultant, which brings us back to a fundamental question: Is there room for emotion in a sport that squeezes every last drop of talent?
But what are the emotions that count?
The images of Lewis Hamilton's father challenging anyone and putting himself before any question are emblematic, running to comfort young Isack which perhaps, to be clear, was all that he needed. Lhe who has built a world champion with support and trust and knows well how muchto fragility, often bypassed, is actually an obligatory passage. The history of the premier category teaches us precisely this: fear, frustration, pressure cannot be erased with a team order.
And it is true that coldness and being methodical make it more complicated than other sports. Yet among the many characteristics granted such as selfishness, concentration and lucidity, there is certainly no mortification. Riders are elite athletes, but they are also human beings. Expecting them to remain impassive in the face of failure is unrealistic and unfair. Mistakes are part of the journey, as is disappointment. And Hadjar has 23 more races ahead of him. His debut does not define him, his future is not all played out on a wet corner. But the weight of Marko's words and those who mocked him could affect him more than a mistake on the track.
The weight of expectations and the need to demonstrate
And it is here that Hamilton Senior feels the need to intervene on his intervention, already frequenting the pits.“I didn't just do it for him, but also for his parents, for everything they did to get him here,” he has declared. “I had to tell him to keep his head up, because he’s a phenomenal driver. I felt terrible for him.” He then added how important it is Don't forget that after all, these are kids we're talking about and that Marko would do well to leave Formula 1 if he continued to think this way, especially about a talent like Hadjar.
Being a rookie means living with the doubt of not being up to par, especially in the Red Bull junior team, it's true, yet the technical error, but first of all human, and perhaps too much enthusiasm and the desire to prove, could have been the trip up that you are unaware of until it presents itself to you the moment before. We must not forget the track conditions, difficult even for veterans like Sainz or Alonso. We can imagine how the weight of the mistake was stronger than the impact of his car.
Hadjar's Future and the Lesson for All, especially for Marko
It's just that in Formula 1 the management of emotions is inconsistent. Red Bull defends Verstappen when he is aggressive and argumentative, but when the emotion manifests itself as fragility, the support is lacking. Vettel was criticized for his emotionality on team radio, Leclerc was mocked for his tears after retiring in Monaco in 2021. Vulnerability is seen as weakness in an environment that only rewards mental strength. But frustration is an emotion as important as anger.
So why should Hadjar's tears be a problem? The FIA and the teams seem to have forgotten that emotion is part of sport. But then, what do we really want? A world of robots, or a motorsport made of men? Hadjar will get back up, because he has talent and determination, but perhaps Marko in this case must ask himself if he wants Formula 1 to be an environment where vulnerability is a stigma, or if he can accept that, behind the helmets, there are people even before drivers. Perhaps the right question is not whether there is room for humanity in this, but why do we keep pretending it shouldn't be there.
