Will F1 make an example of Vettel like Schumacher?

Max Mosley, surrounded as he was by media and political spin doctors, was never the type to let a touch of drama go to waste. At the slightest whiff of controversy he seized the moment to impose his considerable will - even retrospectively at times - and was often suspected of hovering in the background when it came to stewards' decisions or the eventual outcome of sagas, particularly where public outrage was present.

Consider the former FIA president's actions and comments after Austria 2002 and Ferrari's infamous (but then totally legal) victory shuffle just before the finish line; think San Marino '05 (BAR fuel tank) or Indianapolis that same year (Michelin's cars not racing); or Belgium '08 (Lewis Hamilton's 25-second penalty). Above all, think, Jerez 1997.

Yes, that European Grand Prix held 20 years ago, one in which a German world champion driving for a resurgent Ferrari deliberately rammed his title rival, driving for the gold standard team of the era. In the end, Jacques Villeneuve continued on his championship-winning way to claim third in his badly wounded Williams.

The outcome could, though, have been so different: rather than winning the title, Villeneuve could potentially have been forced into retirement by Michael Schumacher's thuggish manoeuvre. As it turned out, Schumacher was left beached and Villeneuve claimed his just desserts.

The stewards in that instance "unanimously concluded it was a racing accident, and no further action is necessary". One hack wrote at the time: "they then picked up their white sticks and went home..."

"I am human like everyone else and unfortunately I made a mistake," Schumacher said gravely two days after the incident during a Ferrari-convened press conference. "I don't make many, but I did this time."

His comments followed a massive media hullabaloo, and Mosley was quick to intervene by way of a World Motor Sport Council hearing into the matter, and, by extension, the stewards' decision. The verdict, announced by Mosley: "The [WMSC] have carefully considered all the evidence in relation to the incident, and have concluded that although the actions were deliberate they were not premeditated."

Schumacher lost all points scored during 1997, so was effectively disqualified from that season's championship results - losing second place. He was required to participate in road safety campaigns to be organised by the FIA and EU Commission during the following year.

A ban? Of course not, for that would prove "futile", for which read that removing Schumacher for a race or more during the next season could adversely affect 'the show', with a subsequent negative impact on the value of F1's commercial rights, then in the process of being acquired by Mosley's mate of many years, Bernie Ecclestone.

Fast-forward to Sunday and Baku, scene of this year's Azerbaijan Grand Prix. The scene is eerily similar: a German world champion, driving for a resurgent Ferrari, rams into his rival, who is driving for the gold standard team of the past few years.

Even one of the stewards rings a bell: Paul Gutjahr of Switzerland was the official in charge both at Jerez and in Baku, although the Bernese businessman, a former Formula 3 racer and director of the Swiss motorsport authority, is now a lot more experienced (and wiser) than he was in Spain two decades ago.

So much for the similarities, now for the differences: the incident occurred under the second safety car phase of the race, and, although the initial front-to-rear bash between the red car in second place driven by Sebastian Vettel, and Lewis Hamilton, in the leading Mercedes, was far from deliberate, the same could hardly be said of Vettel's subsequent conduct.

Vettel is, of course, as different a character (and driver) from Schumacher as Adam was from John Lennon (or Eve from Madonna), with about the only commonalities of substance being a shared mother-tongue and nationality - although it must be added that both won their titles elsewhere before joining Ferrari - while the present-day Scuderia bears little resemblance to that then managed by Jean Todt, the current FIA president.

Baku's street circuit, too, is as different from Jerez as Monaco is from Sepang, and the latest incident occurred not at racing speeds, but at a relative snail's pace. Whether Vettel was distracted or twiddling buttons ahead of the restart only he knows, but the fact is that, as in so many traffic accidents, the car behind failed to anticipate the moves of the driver ahead - and BANG.

Enraged by what he thought was a "brake test" by Hamilton, Vettel pulled up alongside the silver car, then gesticulated at his rival with his left hand before swerving into him. Such was the collision force, that, as their front wheels made contact, Vettel's Ferrari bounced violently before he dropped back into the prescribed astern position ahead of the looming restart.

This point is salient: during the first safety car phase Hamilton had slowed down in order to not catch the safety car before the line yet still retain the lead through the long subsequent straight, but it had proved marginal. So he received a caution from his race engineer second time around, explaining his slower pace.

Video footage shows that in the build-up to the second safety car restart Hamilton behaved as he had for the first, and, crucially, post-race data obtained from his car by the FIA shows that: "Hamilton did correctly maintain a consistent speed, and behaved in the same manner on that occasion as in all other restarts during the race."

Hence Vettel's remonstrations and road rage were utterly misguided, apart from the fact that such behaviour has no absolutely no place in 21st century sport. Not even a "brake test" by Hamilton could justify Vettel's action, while the red mist theory being bandied about cuts no ice either: professional sportsmen are expected to deliver at all times, regardless of pressure, and world champions all the more so.

Consider karate exponents who receive chops at the bell - do they simply kick their opponents in the goolies, justifying their anger on the basis of "he tested me", or blame the sizzle of sport? Vettel spoke about F1 drivers "not being in kindergarten", of being "expected to race, to use our elbows", but again, that expectation - accurate as it may be - applies to competitive phases, not safety car periods.

Do boxers simply cuff their opposite numbers during intervals because they're expected "to box", or tennis players take pot shots at challengers while switching sides simply because the last call was not unto their liking. Come on, Seb, you know better.

Vettel is known for his rages and colourful language, and all the more so after his outbursts in Mexico last year, when he verbally abused F1 race director Charlie Whiting. After a groveling apology he was let off the hook by the FIA before he disappeared into the darkness on the back of a golf cart, but the point was made clear in a subsequent media release that such conduct would no longer be tolerated.

That was deemed a final warning, and quite right, too. Yet, in Montreal a fortnight ago Scuderia Toro Rosso's Daniil Kvyat, angered by a perceived 'double-jeopardy' penalty that his own team boss subsequently acknowledged as being correct, let rip at officialdom in choice terms.

Kvyat apologised profusely in Baku - but surely enough is enough.

Herein lies F1's conundrum: the commercial rights holder needs controversy to spice its show, and there is no doubt Vettel's antics, wrong as they were regardless of his perceptions, delivered great television. Even now the clash remains a talking point in the popular media let alone specialist outlets.

There is, though, a balance between showmanship and sportsmanship, and F1's players need to walk it finely.

The Red Bull Ring in Austria, host of the next round, is surely relishing the advance publicity created by Daniel Ricciardo winning in Baku as a direct result of Vettel's hotheadedness.

After all was said and done, the stewards, led by Gutjahr, handed Vettel a 10-second stop-and-go penalty after they decided "this manoeuvre was deemed potentially dangerous" and added three points to his licence, bringing the count to nine out of a permissible 12-month rolling tally. Crucially in the championship stakes, he still came out ahead of Hamilton, who had been forced to stop after his headrest loosened.

Hamilton made the point that Vettel, whose antics he called a "disgrace" and "disgusting", was not much of a role model for young drivers, and he is not wrong.

Definitions of the term "potentially" are elastic, for Vettel's stunt was downright dangerous, not only for himself and Hamilton, but following drivers as well. He was not to know that Hamilton's front wheel, or his own, would not be damaged and fly off later at full speed, nor whether shards would damage other cars. He could so easily have inflicted terminal damage on Hamilton's cooling system, too.

If Schumacher was disqualified from the entire season for crashing into his only rival in the heat of battle, then Vettel surely deserved to be disqualified from the race, at least, for bashing into his main rival under a safety car. At least Schumacher admitted culpability (of sorts) two days after the event; right now F1 is still waiting on Vettel.

Therein lies the major difference between Jerez and Baku: the modus operandi of former and current FIA presidents. Mosley, who endorsed his successor as "unquestionably the outstanding motorsport manager of his generation and arguably any generation", had no qualms about confrontation and intervention, and would probably have made public pronouncements by Monday at the latest.

On the other hand, Todt is loath to interfere in due process, preferring FIA officials to take responsibility for their decisions. He is more likely to invite Vettel to explain his actions during a private hearing, where the full gravity of his offence(s) - and their consequences, potential and/or otherwise - will be made clear.

An unequivocal apology to Hamilton, Mercedes and all F1 fans will be expected, as will some form of public repentance. Vettel may well find himself acting as a road safety ambassador for the FIA, and, probably, the United Nations given that Todt is the world body's Special Envoy for road safety, for a considerable period - particularly given that 'road rage' is present in an estimated 33% of serious accidents.

Such actions would tick every box without overruling the independence of the stewards, with the FIA and Todt, who is passionate about road safety, gaining a contrite ambassador in Vettel, whose comeuppance would serve as an example (and role model) to other competitors regardless of motorsport category.