Why F1's stewards can never be right

My cats aren't on Twitter.

Neither are they capable of writing a coherent sentence (mind you, the same could be said of many people who are on social media). But as surely as eggs don't bounce, were they possessed of those facilities they'd have deployed them in the immediate aftermath of the Canadian and Austrian Grands Prix to promulgate their angst about the state of Formula 1 stewarding.

After all, everybody else was getting in on the act.

(Parenthetically, how many people who dash off angry letters and emails to specialist magazines, splenetically declaring Formula 1 to be dead to them and that they will never watch another grand prix - and, indeed, they hereby cancel their subscription - actually follow through? Or do they wake up the next morning consumed with regret, fist clenched in mouth, wishing they could recall the fulminating epistle unread? Something along these lines is, presumably, the daily ritual of whoever runs Rich Energy's Twitter account. But I digress.)