F1's current state is exactly what fans asked for

Another day, another processional Formula 1 race. Those hoping for a gripping, scintillating French Grand Prix last weekend were instead left taking to various forms of social media to immediately express their displeasure with the events - or lack thereof - that unfolded.

"Formula 1 is dying" screamed multiple tweets, unhelpfully adding to the cacophonous melodrama the post-race Twitter narrative created. As though F1 has never been criticised for being boring.

Admittedly, the Paul Ricard weekend was a rather linear one, and ended as it began: the top five in the opening practice session assumed the same order come the chequered flag.

Of course, that's never too much of an issue if the spectacle in between provides plenty of thrills, but apart from a smattering of slam-dunk DRS overtakes at the Mistral chicane, there were very few events to provoke even the slightest frisson of excitement.

The dearth of different strategies also contributed to a very run-of-the-mill race, and any hopes of the beating sun and long-radius corners chewing up tyres and upsetting the preferred one-stop approach were firmly dashed as many in the field managed to chug around the circuit and maintain the life in the medium-compound Pirellis until around the midway point.

One could probably add the Ricard circuit to the list of reasons that the French GP was a sub-par viewing experience for many. There are too many areas - the opening sector and the final sector in particular - where the cars remain single file, as their respective drivers simply wait it out until the Mistral straight to bomb past with DRS.

To recap, that's a predictable race at an almost-classic circuit ill-equipped for F1 racing, with limited strategic options and over-reliance on an overtaking aid.

Not many seasons ago, few of those negative aspects were actively part of F1. Instead, they're reactions to what were widespread criticisms of F1 in the past.

There wasn't enough overtaking, some decried, and demanded that the cars be changed to stop races resembling a traffic jam on the M25. Hence DRS.

Others disliked the calendar gravitating to 'less traditional' venues; although the new circuits were built to give cars the space to race, the peripheral shortcomings of the Korean and Indian (and, dare we say it, Abu Dhabi) venues and their failure to conjure spicy on-track battles became an endemic rationale for unenthused attitudes to modern circuit design. In other words, 'all Tilkedromes are rubbish, bring back the old Hockenheim'.

Then there's the matter of strategy. It's only six or seven years ago that we had three- or four-stop races, because the original specification of Pirelli tyres had the sharp performance 'cliff' built into the construction.

Far from being a freak occurrence, 2012 was a culmination of a solid, stable ruleset that was very seldom influenced by anything external

The cliff would often manifest itself unexpectedly, adding a healthy dollop of uncertainty. But alas, that too disappeared after complaints that F1 had become too unpredictable under that tyre formula.

But who made those complaints? Sure, the teams and drivers to whom those rules were a hindrance kicked up a fuss, but most of the changes that define contemporary F1 came in response to the opposition presented by the viewers. Either through general discourse or through a slew of unfiltered, hot-take opinions much like those that emerged steaming-hot after the French GP, everyone voiced their displeasure.

The result? We're in the position where only two drivers seemingly stand a chance of victory, one team continues its road to irrepressible dominance, and the battle between the Big Three outfits is more stale than a fossilised loaf of bread.

And, dear reader, that's what your fellow fans asked for.

Let's take the clock back to 2012, a season that opened with seven different winners in the first seven races. Those races were pretty thrilling, too; Fernando Alonso and Sergio Perez duelled magnificently in the rain at Sepang, and the underdog in the Sauber cut down the lead of Alonso's Ferrari on a drying track to come tantalisingly close to a shock victory.

The season continued to surprise. Nico Rosberg got the rub of the green and capitalised on a weekend where Mercedes was then-uncharacteristically strong to bag victory in China. Bahrain almost offered up a Sebastian Vettel/Kimi Raikkonen battle for supremacy before the clock ran out, and the Spanish GP was famous for a brilliant tussle between Pastor Maldonado and Alonso - the Venezuelan shocking all and sundry to capture Williams's first win for eight years.

That year offered other moments that will continue to be remembered throughout history: a three-way fight for victory in Monaco, radio exploits in Abu Dhabi becoming t-shirt slogans, and Kamui Kobayashi dazzling his home fans at Suzuka with an unlikely podium as Sauber blew hot and cold throughout the year.

Ultimately 2012 was a vintage season, where cars could race each other, and different teams could perform at varying times depending on the conditions. Eight different drivers won races, but it wasn't outside the bounds of possibility that it could have been 10 or 11. At the close of the season, the championship battle between Vettel and Alonso turned on just three points - a tiny margin under the older points systems, let alone the current one.

But far from being a freak occurrence, 2012 was a culmination of a solid, stable ruleset that was very seldom influenced by anything external. There was little in the way of fundamental changes to the fleet of cars on the grid - sure, double-diffusers and exhaust trickery were nipped in the bud, but it meant the cars were largely cut from a similar cloth.

Powertrain arrangements had remained frozen since the beginning of 2007, so cars were built around known quantities. The greater variables among the tyre compounds also necessitated more tactical latitude, as teams aimed to beat 'the cliff' rather than simply going long and preserving tyres. Raikkonen's famous plummet down the competitive order in China represented a risk that certainly didn't pay off, but Jenson Button's two-stop at the damp Brazilian GP paid off against the three-stopping Ferraris.

Was it appreciated at the time? Surprisingly, feelings were mixed; although F1 has long struggled to shake off its 'predictable' tag, for once the genuine level of competition meant that the result of each race wasn't a foregone conclusion after qualifying.

But there seems to be some level of cognitive dissonance that persists among great swathes of the F1 fanbase; although they're jaded by the distinct lack of variance in the current pecking order, once that opportunity presented itself in the first half of this decade it was arguably taken for granted.

While the racing was particularly phenomenal in 2012, the majority of the cars weren't exactly blessed with the requisite aesthetic quality to adorn a teenager's bedroom walls. With the lower crash structure requirements, the majority of teams elected not to compromise with the area available under the chassis bulkhead, instead building 'steps' into the noses of the cars.

Although some of the teams had produced more elegant solutions to cope - McLaren and Lotus creating designs that weren't quite so heinous - the likes of Ferrari and Williams had noses that looked as though an anvil had been dropped upon them.

That's not so much of a problem today. Modern F1 cars are low-slung, wide and elegant monsters, complete with throwback fat tyres and sweeping bodywork. Sure, the halo divides opinion, but it's often very easy to forget it's there. There are significantly fewer complaints around today about the aesthetics of contemporary F1 cars, but that comes at a price.

When the 2009 aerodynamic regulations were introduced, fans were dismayed by the perceived ugliness of the cars. The wide front wings and tall, skinny rear wings were a sea-change in F1's look as the rulemakers opted for function over form.

Although the new aerodynamics package initially failed to produce the intended change in overtaking statistics, the move into 2010 with a settled ruleset (and the elimination of refuelling) brought F1 into a richer vein of on-track action.

F1 needed to build on that, but the lure of prettier cars was too much for the championship's fanbase to avert, and both the FIA and FOM were both tempted by the prospect of a fleet of lap record-breakers - despite their somewhat hypocritical efforts to slow the cars down in the past.

Even if an F1 season is subjectively brilliant for a vast range of people, the most vocal group will be the one that is dissatisfied

The calendar has also gone back to its roots, pleasing the traditionalists with a return to France in recent years and an upcoming return to the Netherlands as Zandvoort rejoins the calendar for the first time in 35 years.

But these are circuits ill-equipped for modern F1; Paul Ricard is a great test track, but as intimated at the top of this column, action is reserved for the back straight only. Zandvoort is currently far too narrow and compact to offer any realistic opportunities for cars to pass each other.

Any excitement at the two venues has come, and will come, as the result of external circumstances; the appearance of rain or a safety car can turn a dull race into an exciting one, but the configuration of the circuit must shoulder the responsibility of creating a spectacle.

Those choices of historic circuits seem to have been made to appease the 'purists' who regard the 1980s through rose-tinted optics and wonder why modern F1 can't simply be transplanted into those venues. But that's akin to asking why this author can no longer fit into nappies; he's grown. Back then the cars were overwhelmingly slower, smaller and simpler, and don't really fit the circuits any longer.

And just as one would begrudge being asked to get smaller just to fit back into his baby clothes, there's a certain amount of futility in asking F1 cars to shrink purely to shoehorn historic venues into the calendar.

To truly please everyone, F1's management needs to be resolute in its aims, identify the duality in the vocal fragments of the fanbase and set its own vision, not the vision of millions - all of whom want different things.

Even if an F1 season is subjectively brilliant for a vast range of people, the most vocal group will be the one that is dissatisfied. Aim to please that group, and the rulemakers will ultimately end up chasing their tails, and implementing the same changes over and over in the hope that something different will come of it.

What F1 must do is take stock of what it currently has, resist the calls for change, and continue to enact its plan to make the on-track product better for 2021 - and beyond. We're resigned to a new ruleset for then, and after its introduction the technical team and management structure must ensure that the rules remain stable.

The exquisite 2012 season was a product of stable rules, and the only real changes were in taking the expensive toys away to even up the order. When F1 defines its next formula, it must not be tempted to tinker - instead, it's best to leave them be for a few years and watch the gaps between the teams shrink.

And once we have that, just sit back and enjoy the show. If it ain't broke...

...don't even try to fix it.