Paul Truswell Reflects on the Need for Change
The FIA World Endurance Championship of 2012 will, I hope, be judged a success when, in years to come, historians look back on it. Certainly, participants, fans and media alike welcomed its introduction at the beginning of the year, have supported it and are talking optimistically about 2013.
The Championship is governed, as is all FIA-sanctioned racing, by a series of regulations. Technical Regulations define the rules for the eligible cars, how they should be powered and what safety measures they should include, among many other details. The WEC Technical Regulations consist of two documents, one describing the rules for “Le Mans” Prototype (LMP) cars and the other for “Le Mans” Grand Touring Endurance (GTE) cars. Together, the two documents run to ninety pages. If a car is found to contravene these regulations, then it is penalised, as Jack Leconte has found out to his cost this year with his Larbre Corvettes.
In addition, there is a further 58-page document containing the Sporting Regulations. These cover the organisation and conduct of races, including the rules for pit stops, safety cars periods, practice and qualifying, starting and stopping the race, etc. Then there are the Supplementary Regulations for each individual event, which cover the specific details of the circuit, officials, and so on.
These regulations also lay down the penalties which have to be applied in cases of failure to comply. Normally, there is no room for negotiation in the application of the regulations: entrants are invited to present their case, but the organisers appoint so-called ‘judges of fact’, whose observations (along with video evidence when it is available) are used in deciding whether a breach of the regulations has taken place.
Inevitably, though, some breaches are more clear-cut than others. Technical oversights, such as having a fire extinguisher that has expired, may not be a deliberate ploy to gain an advantage over a rival, but is nevertheless a clear infringement that was penalised with exclusion.
Not all technical matters are so simple, however. Toyota’s interpretation of the rules for rear bodywork was clearly done with the intention of improving the car’s performance. Moving beyond the intention of the regulation with an interpretation of what constituted a wheel-arch (as opposed to a rear wing), presumably entailed some risk, but since there is close contact between the FIA Technical Delegate and the leading manufacturers, one can only assume that Toyota had some indication in advance that their interpretation would be acceptable. Mischievously, I wonder how Peugeot would have reacted, had they not withdrawn from the championship, and Audi had come forward with the idea.
If the Technical Regulations leave room for ambiguity, then the Sporting Regulations are more of a minefield. In addition to the Sporting Regulations, drivers also have to know the International Sporting Code, which includes, in Chapter IV of Appendix L, the “Code of Driving Conduct on Circuits”. This is where the knotty subject of track limits is defined. I quote: “For the avoidance of doubt, the white lines defining the track edges are considered to be part of the track, but the kerbs are not.” Seems clear enough, doesn’t it? It continues: “A driver will be judged to have left the track if no part of the car remains in contact with the track.”
Again, this seems fairly clear: all four wheels beyond the white line and you have left the track. The rules allow you to rejoin, but only if by doing so you do not gain any advantage. It is hard to argue that improving your lap time or overtaking another car is not gaining an advantage, so why does “respecting the track limits” cause such difficulty? The rules are there, and surely need to be respected.
If your defence is that your transgression was accidental, or unavoidable, there is a rule for you too: “Repetition of serious mistakes or the appearance of a lack of control over the car will be reported to the stewards”.
The problem, in my view, is twofold. Firstly, so many drivers do it, that – like parking regulations in Paris – it becomes impossible to enforce the rules. The only way to resolve this is to give notice, then be consistent and, if necessary, be draconian.
Secondly, the problem occurs because it can occur. I can admonish my teenage daughter for leaving her clothes on her bedroom floor; I can plead with her to tidy up: but I can’t stop her from just dropping her clothes where she steps out of them. She’s a teenager, and that’s simply what teenagers do. Racing drivers are the same – hopefully they don’t leave their race-suits on the floor of the motorhome – but they will go over the line; a bit at first, then a bit more and then suddenly, like Ben Tréluyer at Le Mans in 2011 going round the outside of that Corvette while the Peugeot was on the inside, it’s all four wheels over the edge and beyond.
The only way to stop that happening is to make the consequences physical and immediate. In Tréluyer’s case, it wouldn’t have happened if there’d have been a concrete wall three metres beyond the white line, because he would have splattered the Audi all over it. Another suggestion I’ve heard is to put “cat’s claw” style spikes on the run-off areas, which would force offenders to pit for a new set of tyres after running off the track. Neither solution is particularly elegant, and both have the unwelcome side-effect of interrupting the ‘flow’ of the race. What’s really needed is a mentality change, but if we want to see drivers on the limit, shaving the margins, we have to be prepared for them sometimes to stray over the limit. Should Tréluyer really have been penalised for that move?
The other element of driving conduct that causes much debate and disagreement is that of “causing a collision” – what is called in the regulations “dangerous driving” or “unsporting conduct”. I am not deliberately picking on Benoît Tréluyer here, but as an example, recall his contact with the Aston Martin at Fuji earlier this year, leading to the imposition of a Stop & Go penalty.
My rough calculations suggest that, in a six hour race on a 5km circuit with 27 starters (such as at Fuji), the winning car will need to overtake 350 times in the course of the race. That’s just overtaking cars on the track, not those that are in the pits. If you would lose just a tenth of a second for each of those moves, you end up 35 seconds slower over the race. Two-tenths every time you overtake someone and you lose over a minute. That’s enough to make the difference between winning and losing in a six hour race these days.
So it is no wonder that prototype drivers are so uncompromising in traffic – especially in these days of ‘full speed’ racing. Traffic is nothing new in endurance racing, of course, and I wrote of the difficulties of overtaking slower cars on my blog back in August. (It’s here, if you missed it, and are interested.) And it is not just a problem at Le Mans: in some ways, it characterises everything that makes the WEC what it is. If a driver can’t get his overtaking moves right, he won’t succeed – in contrast to some single-seater categories.
However, the rules are there: dangerous driving and unsporting conduct are not allowed. The stewards are appointed to judge infringements, and must be firm and consistent in doing so. Moreover, drivers must be confident that the stewards are impartial and will impose penalties appropriately. The driver’s attitude must not be “if he can do that, then I can do this…” but “to do this would not be sporting, I won’t do it.”
As soon as drivers start evaluating the risk of getting a penalty against the potential gain, then we are on the slippery slope. Drivers must respect the regulations and one another.
It’s not just the stewards that have a responsibility for the conduct of the race, however. Race organisation is a large, complex and often under-estimated task. But if you’re going to be strict with the competitors, it is critical to get the organisation right. The stewards have to gain the respect of the drivers by responsible execution of their duties. In the same way, those who administer the circuit need to be responsible. Astroturf must remain securely in place for the duration of the race. Safety car drivers must follow the prescribed procedures. Pit exit lights must be displayed correctly.
Championships titles can be won and lost by the discipline of the competitors, but sometimes it seems to me that the race organisers are not measured by the same exacting standards. Publicly, at least, the Shanghai Astroturf shambles needs to be sanctioned. Of course, mistakes will happen. But if a team is penalised for making an error, then there’s no reason why the organisation should not be measured by the same standards.
In motor racing, striving to be the best is a way of life. That motto should apply whether you are competing or organising.
Paul Truswell
