Safety is what we humans believe we should feel in our homes – although depressingly few of us actually experience such luxury around the world. As Sir David Attenborough regularly reminds us, from conception to expiration, life on earth is fraught with risk – irrespective of species.
Sometimes we take decisions that magnify those risks many times over. It’s called being human.
Obviously, some risks are greater than others. At the S&G we have been known to make outings to the local Scalextric club in the certain knowledge that the hobby accounts for 2.5 deaths per year, according to the Office of National Statistics. It could be a very unpleasant way to go – but not an altogether likely one.
Perhaps that very mild whiff of danger is why Scalextric racing remains popular among its practitioners – and might also explain why even the best races attract fairly minimal onlookers. Because when somebody takes a risk – a serious risk – we want to watch and we want to cheer for them. It enriches us.
Whenever the subject of falling public interest in events like motor races or air displays crops up, it always brings back memories of a little badinage from the script of that all-time number 1 movie in the S&G collection, The Great Waldo Pepper. There’s a scene where Robert Redford’s eponymous pilot tries to get work flying for the celebrated ‘Doc’ Dilhoefer’s Flying Circus:
Dilhoefer: Pleased to meet you, Pepper, but the answer’s ‘no’.
Waldo: I’d really like to talk about-
Dilhoefer: The answer’s still ‘no’.
Dilhoefer: Look. I know who you are. You’re a damned good pilot, right? But barnstorming ain’t what it used to be so now you want a job in my flying circus. But do you got an act? No – right? Well the answer’s ‘no’ unless you got an act. Look up there, you think that pack of jackals wants to see a good pilot? They want blood! Sudden death is my business, Pepper. Not good pilots.
Waldo: Wait a second, give me a chance would you? Please?
Dilhoefer: I’ll give you the same deal I give everybody else… now you dream up a stunt where people think you’re gonna die. No! Where people are sure you’re gonna die – then I’ll take you on. You might wanna try wing-walking, I hear it’s very popular down south. Good luck.
In the end, Waldo masters the art of clambering out of the cockpit up onto the wing of his biplane while in flight, getting on to the top wing and bracing himself against the headwind.
Wing walking used to mean climbing out of the cockpit and walking on the wings
It’s a fairly stupefying scene, all the more so for the knowledge that this sort of thing was commonplace in the ‘Twenties. In fact people were already getting a bit tired of it, which is why they put Susan Sarandon on the wing, with her clothes engineered to ‘fall off’ at an appropriate time, as seen at the top of this page.
We still have wing walkers today, of course. Usually they’re girls. The big difference is that now they’re securely lashed to a post. It’s not heart-stopping drama; rather more like Ryanair’s dream of future budget flights.
Modern wing-walkers have stringent safety requirements – like tethers and a seat.
Any sort of display flying brings with it risk – far more than Scalextric racing – but the days of having nothing but the aeroplane’s own bracing wires and your sense of balance to keep you from the hereafter have long since gone. That’s why wing walking acts these days often give the crowd time to go and get a burger before the real action re-commences.
It was Ernest Hemingway who declared that there were only three true sports – bull-fighting, mountaineering and motor racing. The rest were merely games. In other words: if it can’t kill you instantly, you can’t call it a sport.
The news that the FIA is putting a cage over the cockpit of Formula 1 cars next year has met with widespread derision. The push for safety was a cornerstone of the presidency of Max Mosley, although the deaths of Roland Ratzenberger and Ayrton Senna on live TV at the 1994 San Marino Grand Prix made it the overwhelming priority.
That’s why so many Grands Prix involve dollying around in 2nd gear corners these days. Whenever a circuit is modified, it is never to speed it up. While the prices of tickets go up and up, the fans get moved further and further away in order to create more run-off, so that even once-great venues that tested the nerve and sinew now offer the same challenge as a parking lot to drivers of any great skill.
Take the one that they talk about every year – the Eau Rouge/Raidillon sweep at Spa-Francorchamps, an icon in modern Formula 1 parlance that must be taken ‘flat’. Well, Spa remained pretty well unchanged for its first 60 years, with only a few exceptions when the additional track was used where Eau Rouge doubles back on itself, heads back to the Ancient Douanne hairpin and then comes back out halfway up the hill.
For the most part, however, Eau Rouge looked just like this:
Looking ahead to original Eau Rouge/Raidillon in 1955 – no way you’d take that flat even now
Spa was rebuilt in the early 1980s to be shorter and safer. Its return to the Formula 1 calendar came in 1983 but only one exceptionally brave man – Keke Rosberg – took Eau Rouge/Raidillon without lifting because he had a relatively meagre Cosworth DFV that was trying to keep up with the 1200hp turbo cars. ‘A granny could drive it flat now,’ he chuckled recently.
As the image below shows, in the ‘Eighties you thundered downhill towards a solid wall of Armco with an earth bank behind it, steered sharp left and then switched back right with Raidillon getting more acute as it crossed the old stone bridge.
In the 1980s, Eau Rouge/Raidillon was unchanged – and not flat out.
Now we have the modern ‘complex’ after it was rebuilt prior to the 2007 season. Cars race downhill towards a wide open space on the upslope where the guard rail, earth bank and crowds used to be, have a much shorter and more open left through Eau Rouge and then go up Raidillon in a very gentle, regular curve.
The bridges are gone, and the hollows, but the old outline of the left hand side of the circuit remains. Indeed, it’s all the more clear these days for being covered with high grip asphalt to help slow a spinning or braking car before it hits the deep, soft retaining wall. You can see, if you choose to look, at what a challenge used to exist – and witness how the challenge has been so greatly reduced by the modern ‘facility’.
Smooth as a billiard table, wide open spaces and all mod cons: Eau Rouge and Raidillon today
Spa is still one of the three most beautiful and historic venues to race a motor car in Europe, right alongside Monza and Le Mans. It is still possible to get it very wrong at Eau Rouge. But it is impossible to compare achievements here to those of the first 80 years of the circuit’s existence.
Increased safety in terms of car construction, neutered circuits and endless run-off has had a two-fold effect upon Formula 1 that has trickled down to the rest of the sport: public interest has fallen, in line with old Dilhoefer’s pronouncement to Waldo Pepper, and so too have driving standards.
When Ayrton Senna deliberately collided with Alain Prost at Suzuka in 1990 it was shocking because nobody had ever put another driver’s life at risk in quite so obvious a manner. The risks were known, accepted and kept within tolerable limits – as were the driving standards of the day.
The drama of Senna’s moment of madness has now become a tactic. Increasing safety levels have only served to encourage unsportsmanlike behaviour in the top flight, and it’s now thoroughly percolated the entire system. What was once an anathema to the sport is now the norm and it has filtered down to the children competing in the grassroots – which is perhaps the ugliest aspect of all.
Margins for safety are open to abuse – if the consequences are less severe, more chances are taken and sportsmanship goes out of the window
Equally, once Formula 1 adopts the cage – or ‘halo’ as it is being spun – then every other FIA-sanctioned series must follow suit, just as was the case with the HANS head restraint. It is likely that even karts will have a cage around them, even if it is utterly inappropriate and causes as many potential issues as it solves – just as is the case in F1, in fact.
Increasing safety, taking the sport away from the fans and sealing itself in a bubble of safety messaging is throttling not only Formula 1 but also many other strands of motor sport – as these rally images show. The spectacle and therefore the passion are ebbing away.
Safe, ticketed spectator zones have made rallies safer but significantly reduced numbers
In the wake of the Shoreham disaster, much the same phenomenon has struck air shows, with many restrictions being imposed upon the performing pilots and the crowds beneath. “There’s something missing…” is the phrase that has been repeated time and again in fan forums. No cause for alarm yet – but the change has been noticeable.
When one spends long enough around a risky activity, the impact of those risks inevitably hits home. One day, pop star and former display pilot Gary Numan looked at a group photo of his former flying mates and realised that he was the only one still alive. That was the day he stopped flying. His assessment: his decision. An entirely respectable one.
The S&G once worked with a hugely promising young driver who was killed by his own front wheel rebounding into the cockpit during an accident – exactly the type of injury that the cockpit cage (or ‘halo’ if you must), is designed to prevent. Would he have wanted to race with it on the car?
We’ll never know but the odds are severely stacked against his approval for any such device. He was a racer, he weighed up the risks and accepted them. Look to the responses of other racers, I think he’d agree.
No less a man than David Brabham, team-mate to Roland Ratzenberger when he was killed at the San Marino Grand Prix in 1994, popped up in the wake of the ‘halo’ announcement with views that were hardly complimentary. His belief, like that of the S&G, is that the FIA’s thought process is now completely at odds with the opinion of drivers and public alike.
David Brabham (right) and Roland Ratzenberger: the 1994 Simtek team photo
The day after Ratzenberger’s accident, ‘Brabs’ calmly got into the sister car and started the race. He drove through the wreckage of JJ Lehto’s startline accident and that of Senna’s car at Tamburello, too – accepting the risks and believing in his team and in himself to win through. Few racers would have done any differently.
If the fixation on safety continues, however, crowds seeking to be thrilled by risk-takers may as well migrate to our Scalextric club. If somebody has taken stock of the risks and decided that they are worth the challenge then they should be applauded for it. As it is, more and more people are more likely to re-enact the great races and the amazing aerial manoeuvres via a computer game than ever witness true heroism in real life. What a sad reflection on our society that would be.