Why Formula 1 does matter

When news of the downing of Malaysian Airlines flight MH17 started to permeate the German Grand Prix paddock last Thursday, the consensus was it put into perspective the irrelevance of Formula 1.

Compared to the loss of lives and the grieving families, how could Lewis Hamilton's brake failure, Nico Rosberg's victory or the Hockenheim grandstands being emptier than they once were possibly be of the slightest consequence?

But against a backdrop of a passenger plane being shot down, not to mention escalating violence in Gaza and the countless places around the world where hideous atrocities occur on a daily basis but attract little coverage, F1 does matter.

That probably sounds like an outrageous piece of self-justification. After all, if F1 is a facile and meaningless undertaking, what does it make those working in the media covering it?

Equally pointless, especially with 'proper' news organisations staffed by individuals risking life and limb reporting the things really affecting people, often in the most horrific ways.

There are times when, as a journalist, you feel you should be covering matters of import in world affairs. That this would be a career that could really make a difference.

After all, some of the most inspiring journalism produced around the world comes in such circumstances. By comparison, an F1 race report, an interview with one of the great and good of the paddock, or even a column about why the whole enterprise matters, seems more like playschool than real work.

But the self-destructive futility of humanity's murderous tendencies, petty border disputes rooted in nationalist agendas that would ideally have died out in the last century and warmongering affecting, and in many cases taking, the lives of millions represents the worst of humanity.

Formula 1 strives for excellence © LAT

For all the corruption, greed and self-interest that infests F1, at its heart is an endeavour encapsulating the best of humanity.

It is about the pursuit of excellence.

And no matter in what area, be it sports or science, the arts or architecture or anything else you might mention, excellence is always worthwhile. It is the antithesis of the destructive horrors that infest parts of the world. It is about creation, not destruction.

The design and build of racing cars in itself does not benefit humanity. But it does enrich it. Nobody should ever receive a Nobel prize for their involvement in the sport. But F1 cars are spectacular feats of engineering, the product of the most pure of human intentions, namely to raise the technological bar ever higher.

An F1 car doesn't directly help anybody, save perhaps for the economic impact of the existence of the team that made it, but to argue that misses the point.

Human endeavour cannot only be measured simply in terms of utility and the sport does add to the depth of collective knowledge and experience of our species, even if it's only in a modest way. But in harness with the millions of other such undertakings, it is testament to what we can achieve.

Science and technology has always had this role. One of humanity's greatest feats is becoming a nascent spacefaring species, the crowning glory coming when Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin set foot the Moon in July 1969.

Less famous is one of the missions that followed six years later after the cancellation of Moon shots. The world was still gripped by the Cold War, yet the USA and Russia collaborated to dock an Apollo Module with a Soyuz capsule in the orbit of Earth.

The motivation for this project was largely political, but it still required tremendous efforts both to make the two crafts compatible and to rendezvous in the first place. And the two sides, culturally conditioned to hate, collaborated to brilliant and inspiring effect.

Even against a background of detente, the totemic value of scientists from both sides literally and metaphorically rising above the polarisation of humanity below it was a powerful one. Did it directly benefit anyone? No. But it really mattered.

This is a grandiose comparison for F1, but it illustrates the point. We can achieve great things, even if only for the sake of doing them. Returning to space exploration, while the Moon missions were also politically motivated, there is an inherent truth in President Kennedy's famous speech setting the objective.

During that speech, he said: "We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organise and measure the best of our energies and skills."

Adrian Newey © LAT

F1 is not easy, it is hard and to succeed requires just the kind of collaboration Kennedy talked about.

After all, would we be better off if Adrian Newey were working on missile guidance systems? Or James Allison on designing fighter jets? Surely not. They are better deployed in creative endeavours.

And it's not just about those on those who design, produce and operate the cars within the teams. One of the greatest privileges of covering F1 is to see the absolute best in the world ply their trade week-in, week-out.

They too are pursuing excellence and to watch the greatest drivers at their best is to see people raising the bar simply for the sake of doing so.

The details, who wins on a given day, might be inconsequential. But endeavours like F1 are exactly why we can be optimistic about our existence.

Global horrors make it difficult even to look ourselves in the eye.

But grand prix racing is one of the myriad human undertakings that allows us to look in the mirror and realise that, for all of the awfulness around us, we are not all bad.

It is proof we can create as well as destroy.