Why LMP1 shouldn't be remembered for its bitter end

It's a sad way to end. The LMP1 era will go out with a whimper at this weekend's Bahrain round of the World Endurance Championship: just the two Toyotas on the grid and little or no chance of any kind of battle to rekindle memories of the glory days of the category.

While the pair of TS050 HYBRIDs, the drivers of one of them with an arm tied behind their backs, play out the charade that Saturday's Bahrain 8 Hours will surely be, I'll have my work cut out to prevent my mind from wandering back to better times. And there really were some amazing moments over the quarter of a century of LMP1.

I may be biased, because the history of LMP1 neatly straddles my time working for Autosport. The category started in embryonic form back in 1994, my first year writing for the title, and was slow away from the blocks at a time when manufacturers were more interested in producing allegedly road-based GT1 machinery. It got into its stride as the last century was coming to a conclusion and then entered its pomp at the end of the noughties.

LMP1 gave us two of the greatest ever Le Mans 24 Hours. I'm talking about Audi's triumphs in 2008 and 2011. I defy anyone not to put those races in their top 10 editions of the great race.

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They were mesmerising for different reasons: the first, an against-the-odds victory for the underdog; and the second, a 24-hour slugfest between two heavyweights at the top of their game. Peugeot was the loser both times, which should in no way detract from its contribution to one of the greatest eras in sportscar racing history.

I have long since contended that a halcyon era began when Peugeot joined Audi in the turbodiesel ranks at Le Mans and beyond in 2007. It was the start of what I simplistically call the high-tech era that segued into a time when we eventually had three manufacturers in Toyota, Audi and Porsche battling it out with hybrid machinery after the rebirth of world championship long-distance racing in 2012.

The 10 years between Peugeot becoming a full-fledged contender in season two of the 908 HDi programme in 2008 and Porsche's final campaign with the 919 Hybrid in 2017 were among the greatest ever in sportscar racing. They stand in comparison with any of the classic periods, and there's no doubt that the racing was never better.

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The fortunes of LMP1 went into a downward spiral when Audi pulled the plug on its long-running programme at the end of 2016. Once Porsche announced that it was following suit less than a year later, the class was dead in the water.

The LMP1 independents might have quickly drifted away leaving no cake, but the icing was delicious. However, it wasn't a healthy diet for the class

Part of the reason for that was the disappearance of a bedrock of privateers underneath the factory teams. It's irrefutable that the technology priced them out: there was little or no opportunity to buy ex-works cars and developing a contender that could compete at the sharp end was beyond them financially and technically.

I once used the term "all icing and no cake" to describe the glory years of LMP1 after the WEC restarted. The LMP1 independents might have quickly drifted away leaving no cake, but the icing was delicious. However, it wasn't a healthy diet for the class.

The rule makers, the Automobile Club de l'Ouest and the FIA, did try to encourage the privateers, though arguably too late. They practically rolled out the red carpet for them once Toyota became the last manufacturer standing.

First, they promised one-lap parity in the 2018/19 WEC superseason and then, with Toyota's agreement and assistance, came up with the system of success handicaps in force for the current campaign.

It would be churlish to lambast Rebellion Racing for ducking out of Bahrain in the current global situation after its announcement that this season would be its last. Doubly so, because it has been the most ardent independent supporter of the LMP1 division over a protracted period reaching back into the noughties.

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Ginetta hasn't raced in the 2019/20 WEC since last year, seemingly calling time on its campaign in stages ever since, ByKolles was never due to race in Bahrain and SMP Racing withdrew its entries before the season had even started. That's how we've got to the sorry state of just two cars for LMP1's swan song.

It wouldn't be so bad if the Toyotas could actually race each other this weekend. That's a forlorn hope given that the #8 TS050 driven by Sebastien Buemi, Kazuki Nakajima and Brendon Hartley will be half a second slower by regulation.

Success penalties have sadly robbed us of one of the highlights of 2018/19. The WEC superseason won't go down in history as a classic campaign, but there was some phenomenal racing between the two Toyotas over its course.

There's an argument that the success handicaps should have been scrapped for Bahrain in the absence of any opposition to Toyota. They were devised to give the privateers a chance. So no privateers, no need for the penalties.

My heart agrees with that, but my head tells me it would have been wrong to ditch them. Chopping and changing of regulations is what got us into this sorry mess in the first place.

The philosophy behind the handicaps has its merits. They are, after all, a modern take on the idea of success ballast. It is the execution that has caused the problems.

When the rule makers on the FIA Endurance Committee decided to increase the severity of the handicap system ahead of their first deployment at Fuji in October 2019, it did two things: it destroyed the racing between the Toyotas and it handed Rebellion a couple of victories on a plate when the Japanese cars were carrying the most severe penalties.

The original penalty co-efficient was 0.008s per point per kilometre. That was increased to 0.01255s (though we were initially told the new figure was 0.012s such was the lack of transparency).

The philosophy behind the handicaps has its merits. They are, after all, a modern take on the idea of success ballast. It is the execution that has caused the problems

If we were still working to the original number the penalty for #8 this weekend would only be 0.35s. More to the point, the penalties carried by the Toyotas might have allowed them to keep the solo Rebellion-Gibson R-13 honest in the races it won at Shanghai late last year and Austin early this.

Removing then the penalties for Bahrain would have been wrong, unfair even. The #7 TS050 of Kamui Kobayashi, Mike Conway and Jose Maria Lopez has been more heavily penalised than the sister car in three events over the 2019/20 campaign. The roles prior to this weekend were reversed in only one event: the Toyotas were equal in two races, including the first at Silverstone, of course, and the penalty system was never intended to apply to Le Mans.

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Tweaking it for Bahrain is fair enough. The handicaps have been calculated according to the points differential between the two Toyotas rather than the gap to season's worst-placed LMP1 entry, up to a maximum of 40 points. That means #8 will run a 0.54s penalty and the #7 car zero rather than 2.70s and 2.16s had the original formula been employed.

But that doesn't get away from the fact that we are unlikely to have a race as LMP1 bows out in what Autosport's sums make the 290th major international race open to the class. So please excuse me if my mind drifts away over the eight hours at Bahrain to reminisce about some of the other 289.