Why hating the halo is pointless

From next year's Australian Grand Prix the halo cockpit ring will be imposed on Formula 1 after the FIA forced through regulation changes despite allegedly nine of the 10 teams being opposed to the introduction of the device pending further trials.

Over three years in the making - and delayed by a year - the halo was developed by Mercedes in reaction to a sequence of deaths and injuries in single-seaters. So it is particularly ironic that the team's non-executive chairman, Niki Lauda - who suffered horrific injuries in an accident 41 years ago next week - is one of the halo's most vocal critics, calling the device "the wrong one" and "an overreaction".

A tacit paddock war has waged over the halo, for the anti party does not wish to appear overly macho or insensitive to the very real risks posed by motorsport, despite the non-compromise stance adopted by the governing body in this regard. Equally the pro lobby does not wish to be seen to be overly politically correct, for danger sells, as any high-wire artist can attest.

A further complication was posed by the availability of two cockpit protection devices: the halo versus the (semi) canopy-style shield that was briefly evaluated during the FIA's quest for improved head protection devices. Both had their supporters, so in real terms paddock opinion was split three (or more) ways: an anti-protection camp regardless of the adopted device, the anti-halo faction, and the anti-shield brigade.

Regardless of advantages - proven and/or assumed - the aesthetics of both devices polarised opinions, with the shield seemingly causing less offence among drivers, team personnel and fans than the halo, although the halo was derisively likened by some to a flip-flop sandal.

On that basis alone it always was going to face massive opposition within and without the F1 paddock - regardless of any advantages over the shield. Strangely, despite one of the halo's three prongs being in the forward line of sight, there were few complaints on that score, so any objections are seemingly founded on 'look of' principles, rather than the 'look through' characteristics of the device. Talk about subjective.

Given some of the teams' nose designs in recent times and rather gawky wings before that, one does truly wonder whether F1 engineers are at all qualified to judge aesthetics in the first place. Still, F1's overriding mantra appears to be: if it works, it's beautiful; if not, it's ugly. Tests by the FIA show the "halo currently represents the best solution to the issue of frontal cockpit protection", so there.

The debate reminds not only of the saga surrounding another four-lettered driver safety device, one invented in the USA by Dr Robert Hubbard, yet also developed with the assistance of Mercedes Motorsport, namely HANS, introduced at the 2003 Australian Grand Prix, but equally of safety campaigns over the ages, including the introduction of barriers and catch-fences, sand-traps, fireproof clothing, and even helmets.

HANS was introduced after a number of drivers suffered fatal basal skull fractures, with the 1994 death of Roland Ratzenberger at Imola (on the day before the Ayrton Senna accident, in which the Brazilian suffered BSF, although the official cause of death was brain penetration by shrapnel - injuries the halo could arguably have prevented), being the most high profile.

Others to have suffered BSF-caused deaths include Indy driver Scott Brayton and NASCAR star Dale Earnhardt, and so it is little wonder that among the earliest circuit racing adopters of HANS were CART/Indycar (initially for ovals, later for road courses) and NASCAR, both in 2001, although they had been trumped by drag racing five years earlier. For once, F1 did not blaze motorsport's safety trail.

Originally scheduled for 2002 introduction, HANS was delayed a year after numerous F1 teams and drivers protested. Sound familiar?

Rubens Barrichello, who blamed his 2003 Australian Grand Prix crash partially on discomfort caused by HANS, was one of its biggest critics; another was lanky Justin Wilson, who was hospitalised after suffering pinched nerves.

Barrichello was granted a one-off exemption from using HANS for the following race in Malaysia and, intriguingly, his team executives at Ferrari at the time were Jean Todt and Ross Brawn, now, of course, FIA president and managing director of FOM, the championship's commercial rights holder, respectively. Guess who, though, voted in favour of the halo?

Both drivers subsequently assisted with further development of HANS, and it's now mandated for most international-level series, including roofed categories such as the World Rally and World Touring Car championships. This begs the question why HANS was not worn by Pascal Wehrlein during his ill-fated Race of Champions heat, in which he suffered neck-bone fractures severe enough to rule him out of this year's opening two grands prix.

RoC aside, it is hard to imagine professional drivers racing without HANS, just as it's impossible to visualise them without full-face helmets, yet 60 years ago some drove in leather caps, and 50 years ago asbestos masks were de rigueur.

In the late 1960s Jackie Stewart was widely derided for organising boycotts at circuits that did not conform with even the most basic safety requirements, such as barriers, run-off areas and medical facilities with trained staff present. It was he who pressed for mandatory use of seatbelts and full-face helmets - and was ridiculed in return.

"I would have been a much more popular world champion if I had always said what people wanted to hear. I might have been dead, but definitely more popular," Stewart now recalls somewhat sarcastically.

When Red Bull's now-motor racing consultant Helmut Marko lost an eye after a stone pierced his (non-bulletproof) visor during the 1972 French Grand Prix, it took eight hours to find a sober doctor willing to attend to him - but only after he had raised the cash to pay for the treatment. Any wonder Red Bull backed the shield concept it developed?

Arguably the most interesting aspect of the halo affair is that the FIA was forced to pull the safety card to force through the device as the 100% team consensus required to introduce rule changes after the April 1 cut-off for the following year failed to materialise. Under such circumstances F1's regulator is permitted to override teams (and the F1 Commission), but only where bona fide safety issues are at stake.

Given that forcing through the halo represents the sole instance of Todt playing the safety card during his well-nigh eight years as president, the saga illustrates just how seriously the FIA views the question of cockpit/head protection, although the Grand Prix Drivers' Association did chime in with its full support while admitting "the halo might not be the most aesthetically pleasing for everyone".

The fact of the matter is that the halo has been voted through for 2018 - further delays could have left the governing body open to legal challenges should a death occur through head injury before its introduction - for better (safety) or worse (looks), and will make its official grid appearance in Melbourne, exactly 15 years after HANS was mandated at the same venue.

Just as grands prix without HANS, full-face helmets, barriers, run-off areas and medical centres are now unimaginable, so in a decade or so F1 cars without halos will too be inconceivable - unless, of course, said devices are replaced by a better alternative. Head protection is here to stay in open-cockpit cars, so the sooner we get used to the idea the better.