Why rumours surrounding Horner's return to F1 demonstrate fundamental truths

As a youth, this author was traumatised by an episode of Space: 1999 in which a creature with bizarre hypnotic powers sucked its victims into its voracious maw and then disgorged the bones and tattered garments onto the floor in a smoking heap. All this before lunchtime on a Saturday.

Likewise Formula 1 exerts a powerful yet often destructive draw. While there are plenty of ‘lifers’ around – old faces who cling on, despite seemingly having little in the way of paid work to do – others are ruthlessly chewed up and spat out. Generally the higher up the food chain, the more conspicuous the expulsion, though thankfully without rubbery tentacles and pyrotechnics.

Arguably last year’s highest-profile dismissal was that of Christian Horner from his post as Red Bull Racing team principal. The question now is whether he’ll join the ranks of the partially digested remnants – the permanently excluded – or whether he will find a way back in somehow. If so, in what form?

Among F1’s ‘lifers’ there is a constituency of people desperate to remain on board purely because they cannot imagine an existence outside the F1 paddock. This is not a demographic into which Horner fits neatly. Whether you warm to his often combative approach or not, he is a fiercely competitive individual who guided his team to eight drivers’ championships and six constructors’ titles – he regards F1 as unfinished business, not a lifestyle. And he wants a share of the rewards in terms of ownership.

So, should he return, it will not be to that peculiar half-life of other former team leaders who haunt the paddock as employees, contractors, or hustlers without a visible hustle. He enjoyed the profile that came with frequent TV appearances, but not enough to become a TV pundit.

Would taking a salaried position in an adjacent form of motor racing while acting as a rent-a-quote in F1 float his boat? Well, there’s only one Guenther Steiner. Being paid handsomely to effectively be a caricature of yourself is nice work if you can get it. Neither is it possible to see him as an Otmar Szafnauer figure, working his way up and down the paddock, perennially being linked with potential new investors or new team entities without these putative connections emerging into the sunlight.

Horner’s successor Mekies fits the mould of a modern F1 team principal, hailing from an engineering background

Photo by: Mark Thompson / Getty Images

No, Horner does his moving and shaking behind the scenes (and, such is his profile, he wouldn’t be able to walk through the paddock without autograph hunters in constant attendance).

The main obstruction on his route back is that times have changed again. The team principal was once the person whose name was above the factory door; latterly that post has been taken by generalist managers as teams entered the realms of corporate ownership. Now they tend to be from an engineering background, such as Horner’s successor Laurent Mekies, Andrea Stella at McLaren, Alan Permane at Racing Bulls, Ayao Komatsu at Haas, and Aston Martin’s several recent occupants of that role.

Indeed, it’s understood that while there was a dialogue between Horner and Aston Martin owner Lawrence Stroll, Horner’s desire for equity was a stumbling block. More significantly, his old colleague Adrian Newey commands most influence there now and his desire is for an engineer with more hands-on trackside experience to sit alongside him – not someone who feels that every item of company business must cross their desk. Hence the name of Gianpiero Lambiase, Max Verstappen’s long-time race engineer, has entered the frame there, though he has also been connected with a senior position at Williams.

He has long been close to the likes of Bernie Ecclestone and Flavio Briatore, old-school wheeler-dealers who commanded great power and influence

In the 20 years since Horner took the reins at Red Bull the job has changed, and so too, naturally, has the man. Having a proper stake in the business rather than being a link in the chain of command is the natural next step. He has long been close to the likes of Bernie Ecclestone and Flavio Briatore, old-school wheeler-dealers who commanded great power and influence. Not for Christian some nebulous minister-without-portfolio role in which he gets to wear team kit and hang about all weekend without achieving anything. This does not ring his bell.

That’s why Horner’s most likely way back is to front an investment into a struggling competitor – either via Alpine’s minority shareholders, a prospect that is on the table as talks with Otro Capital are ongoing, or if another team finds itself unexpectedly at the wrong end of the grid and its eminences grises decide a senior human sacrifice is required.

But why go through all this risk and potential aggravation when you’re already wealthy and could easily settle into a quieter life? Entrepreneurial zeal, yes, and ego for sure. But also F1’s peculiarly hypnotic gravity, inexorably drawing you in as surely as it will spit you out in the end.