The real impact of F1's fastest-lap point

Valtteri Bottas's most revealing radio comment during the Australian Grand Prix was his slowing down lap combination of good letter writing etiquette and devastating sweary demolition of all who had ever doubted him.

His second most revealing radio comment was seven laps earlier, when he had been told that the fastest lap bonus point wasn't a priority and he shouldn't take any risks.

"Copy, but I want 26 points so I'm going to try it," was Bottas's blunt reply. The Mercedes communications system wasn't the only radio channel buzzing to that effect in the closing laps in Melbourne.

"I want that point, Bono," declared Lewis Hamilton to his engineer, and owner of the world's most jauntily patient radio voice, Pete Bonnington. Red Bull promised Max Verstappen "10 laps of fun" at the end.

Suddenly the final laps of the Australian GP weren't just going to be Bottas cruising home with a massive lead, Hamilton holding Verstappen at bay without much strife, Ferraris running in formation and midfielders not quite overtaking each other.

The main contenders were about to throw everything at qualifying-esque laps on tired tyres in a time-trial style showdown. The fastest lap bonus point rule change that had prompted mild rage in some quarters, moderate delight in others, but an overwhelmingly underwhelmed 'oh, OK' from the majority, actually seemed quite good.

Verstappen and Hamilton appeared bemused that anyone should query whether the fastest lap point was worthwhile, both answering that question with variations on 'duh, it's 21 extra points I could score across the year'.

Twenty one points equals halfway between a win and a second place. Twenty eight F1 world championships have swung on margins smaller than 'somewhere between first and second place points' in the relevant years' scoring systems. So this really could be a title decider.

It's reminiscent of the impact of the powerstage in the World Rally Championship. Smash that televised finale every time, and that's a massive 70 extra points across the season. In the years of a Sebastien running away with season after season, it ultimately mattered little.

Last year as the advantage switched constantly between Sebastien Ogier and Thierry Neuville, with Ott Tanak surging up behind them, Sunday WRC lunchtimes became a properly significant crescendo where you couldn't really be sure how a rally would affect the course of the title battle until the final stage was done, even if you had a dominant leader.

If - and wouldn't it be lovely if this was the case? - the lead of the 2019 F1 standings keeps swapping round by round, the fastest lap point will matter.

Fastest laps in F1 have generally been relatively evenly spread among leading contenders in most seasons, so the chances of Bottas going on to get all 21 of those newly available points are very slender.

Kimi Raikkonen's 10 fastest laps in both 2005 and '08 would've kept him in title contention for longer each time but not changed the championship outcomes, and the same is true of Mika Hakkinen's nine fastest laps in 2000.

Last year, without a bonus on offer, fastest lap was set in the closing stages of the race in 16 grands prix out of 21. Often, the reason for that was simple boredom

In many cases the fastest lap point would've just allowed a runaway champion to further assert their dominance - such as Michael Schumacher's tally of 10 in 2004 and Nigel Mansell's eight fastest laps in 1992.

One 'what if' that makes the fastest lap bonus particularly romantically compelling is that in theory it would've made Gilles Villeneuve a world champion. He scored six fastest laps to Ferrari team-mate Jody Scheckter's zero in 1979, and finished the year four points behind. This is where trying to adapt one isolated piece of a modern rules package to a past scenario becomes problematic, though.

One of Villeneuve's fastest laps wouldn't have counted for a point, as it was achieved in the famous Dutch GP that he exited on three wheels following an over-optimistic attempt to get back to the pits with a puncture.

But with a point at stake for fastest lap, would Ferrari have leapt into action with lashings of duct tape to get him back in the race after all - given that only seven cars finished anyway, so just being classified would have been enough to make his fastest lap point valid?

Or would the 'must be in the top 10' rule have been a different cut-off in 1979 anyway, given that only the top six scored in that era rather than the current 10 - and that 1979's average number of classified race finishers was 11 compared to 2018's 16?

A single point for fastest lap also now seems more palatable in a period when a win is worth 25. One quick lap is considered 4% of the size of achievement that a race win is. Under the 1979 system, a point for fastest lap would've made it 11% of a race win's worth. Certainly harder to swallow.

And while we're trying to revise history, would Scheckter have been willing to take such a Jackie Stewart style 'win at the slowest speed possible' approach to his title pursuit with those bonuses on offer? Would Villeneuve - and all his raw pace - have let him?

Can F1 find a way to snuff out the intrigue the fastest lap bonus point has provided?

Would Villeneuve have been so content to sit behind Scheckter as the title was settled at Monza had he arrived just seven points behind and second in the standings with three races to go thanks to his fastest laps, rather than 12 down and fourth?

Fact is, the 1979 campaigns would've been handled differently by teams and drivers had a fastest lap point existed then - and so will 2019 and beyond.

It's a banal point but a true one: F1 people will always try to maximise every scoring chance or performance gain they possibly can, so if another scoring chance exists they won't leave it to casual happenstance to see if they take that point - they'll adapt and act differently.

Bottas's 'only a loser would settle for 25 points when you could have 26' stance shows that. This often manifests itself in teams eventually finding ways to neuter changes that were supposed to inspire excitement, through their sheer excellence.

Refuelling provided intriguing variety for as long it took for teams to figure out the optimum strategy for each race and congregate precisely around it.

Qualifying with race fuel provided unpredictability until all the teams coalesced around exactly the right approach and it became obvious that the light-fuel front row starters would be made irrelevant on race day by the heavier, faster cars behind on most occasions when Saturday had provided a shock.

Similarly this year, designers spent the winter responding to wing changes that reduced outwash to help overtaking by... finding new ways to generate outwash anyway because it makes their car quicker, even though it will theoretically stymie overtaking. But can F1 find a way to snuff out the intrigue the fastest lap bonus point has provided?

Hitting on a strategy that means fastest lap is always settled by the eventual race winner by lap five is highly unlikely given everyone starts with a full fuel load. So this bit of mild excitement should be here to stay. Last year even without a bonus on offer, fastest lap was set in the closing stages of the race in 16 GPs out of 21. Often, the reason for that was simple boredom among drivers.

Whatever you do to F1, all the time that the field is starting in speed order and has nearly two hours to settle itself down, and safety cars are used for safety rather than entertainment reasons, it's going to take a very quirky format to stop the race fading into a resolved pattern in the closing laps. That's a fact rather than a flaw.

So turning the timing screen purple gave a driver in a quick car something to do in the laps when there was little else to occupy them. Putting a point on offer for something that was happening anyway is therefore wise. It's an inoffensive way to add a little bit of spice and value to something that already existed.

And Melbourne showed how to make it into a spectacle too. The dominant Bottas set a new fastest lap 17 times in the Australian GP - but both Ferraris had a go at pinching it away straight after pitstops, with Bottas instantly responding each time.

Then when Verstappen nicked it with four laps to go, Bottas retaliated by blowing the Red Bull's mark away by nearly a second. The top three all set their very best laps with one lap to go, and Hamilton and Verstappen fell 0.477s and 0.676s shy respectively.

Good commentary handling of that and excellent choice of radio traffic to broadcast made the drama work for a TV audience, but it's going to be tougher to convey to spectators at the track.

That's important, because the human element was key to making the bonus point quest interesting.

It was fun to see the rapid times get pumped in, but much more so because those radio messages had made it clear what was happening.

This wasn't just some numbers on a screen changing from yellow to purple, this was a little smattering of 11th-hour psychological drama.

Which brings us back to the WRC powerstage again. A rally driver who's had a horrible weekend but is back under Rally2 and saving their tyres all through Sunday morning so they can try to redeem it all with five points from the finale is going to send a far more combative message to their rivals than a driver who's written themselves off, become resigned to their powerstage start position being poor and to their weekend being a zero-pointer.

A rally winner who takes it easy on the powerstage because they'd rather be sure of 25 points than risk anything to get 30 is showing a glimpse of weakness compared to a rally winner who makes absolutely sure they score 30 out of 30 and finish with a flourish.

A fastest lap bonus point is a far more simple and accessible extra to transmit to an audience than some of the other quirky bonuses elsewhere in motorsport (tempted to adopt bonus points for most places gained or most laps led, F1? Please don't...).

Grabbing a reward for going fastest when you absolutely don't need to, but can if you're willing to take a gamble, is a very good way to say - as Bottas might put it - "fuck you" to your rivals.