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In Confidence: Trouble brewing at Le Mans?
3 years ago
Toyota had won Le Mans five times in a row
But the BOP element was also delivered devastatingly late and – legal though it was – consequently with very little respect for those that had to cope with it. The 37kg penalty, slapped down just nine days before the event, added 1.2sec a lap, said Toyota; not enough for it to have taken pole, but certainly enough to have transformed the context of the race. Yes, Ferrari had to cope with an extra 24kg too, but there’s little doubt that it was Toyota’s five-year winning streak that was uppermost in the minds of the rule makers when they stepped in.
I was with the Toyota team throughout the weekend, there to interview outgoing CEO and upcoming chairman Akio Toyoda, grandson of the company’s founder, for a story you’ll read on The Intercooler soon. And while it’s important to remember that made me susceptible to the company’s point of view, the impression I’m left with as I sift through my notes of this sorry tale is a lingering and potentially escalating sense of fury from a company that normally strays no further than a raised eyebrow from inscrutability.
"The near future at least is looking bright, with or without Toyota. Longer-term, though, particularly if nobody else chooses to support the ACO’s hydrogen category, Fillon and his colleagues may come to regret their decision"
It started with a seemingly throwaway comment on the eve of the race, when ACO president Pierre Fillon was joined by Toyoda, just in from Japan, on stage to discuss the latter’s plans to run a hypercar powered by combusted hydrogen from 2026. In English, Toyoda delivered a perfect, pointed jibe about hydrogen being sufficiently light to avoid any BOP penalties. The room laughed, but neither he nor Fillon looked that amused.
What could they have been talking about backstage? Just weeks before, Fillon had been Toyota’s guest in Fuji, there to drive the firm’s hydrogen-powered Corolla and watch it race for the full 24 hours. It was here, said sources, that Toyoda’s 2026 commitment to the hydrogen powered hypercar project was cemented; it was here that Toyota, once again, put its financial and technological might behind supporting the ACO at a time of need, when a changing world makes for an uncertain future for the race itself.
Bear in mind that Toyota was almost alone among manufacturers in supporting the top class at Le Mans in recent years; so it is again, thus far, on hydrogen, the ACO’s new big idea. Yes, Toyota reaped the rewards, but without it there would have been some sorry 24-hour races in the north of France these past few years. Toyoda didn’t say it, but there was a sense of betrayal around the team that the Frenchman would take its hospitality and then, days later, preside over it being handicapped so severely.
"Toyoda seemed to spend a pointed amount of time talking up why the sounds of motorsport – preserved by burning hydrogen in a combustion engine – were critical to rallying, but perhaps less so to racing. That seemed at odds with his earlier commitment to the Great Race"
From there, the commentary emanating from Toyota escalated. I cheekily asked Toyota’s race team director Rob Leupen if he could see the argument for the changes being for the benefit of the fans, and lit the blue touch paper. ‘You get more show, but is it a show or a competition? Is it a sport?’ he snapped. ‘This is the question everybody has to answer for themselves. For us it’s important that it’s predictable, for us it’s important that respect is there for everybody and this is handled in a way that we do a sport, not a show.’
Then I got word that Toyoda was talking to the Japanese media that evening. A transcript was forthcoming on the morning of the race, and while I quoted it carefully given the quality of some of the translation, the highlights, based on his reflections from qualifying, were unequivocal: ‘I wanted drivers, engineers and mechanics to race in a place where they could look ahead to the next 100 years. When I was watching qualifying I thought, “I lost to politics.” I don’t want to fight a closed political battle that nobody can see.’
There’s more, too. An hour into the race I met Toyoda for our interview. Time had been set aside for a BOP-specific question at the start, but he seemed to swerve it, talking now about seeing how the race unfolded. Had he calmed down? Word afterwards was that it would depend on how the race result panned out – and we now know the answer to that. It was notable, too, that in the ensuing interview he seemed to spend a pointed amount of time talking up why the sounds of motorsport – preserved by burning hydrogen in a combustion engine – were critical to rallying, but perhaps less so to racing. That seemed at odds with his earlier commitment to the Great Race.
Maserati was back on top for the first time since 1957
And finally, our time talking up, Toyoda and his entourage (and, trust me, it is a large entourage) got up and left, not just the interview room, but the circuit itself. I couldn’t get a clear answer on if he was ever set to stay, but to catch a flight (to another flight – Le Mans’ runway is big enough to take his corporate jet, but not big enough for it to take off when fuelled for a journey to Japan) 2.5 hours into a 24-hour race, most of which he’d spent talking to me and others, seemed, well, odd.
The ACO may not care. It has its story with Ferrari, and commitment from Cadillac, Peugeot and Porsche, with Alpine, BMW and Lamborghini joining the fray next year. The near future at least is looking bright, with or without Toyota. Longer-term, though, particularly if nobody else chooses to support the ACO’s hydrogen category, Fillon and his colleagues may come to regret their decision.
Maserati’s first single-seater win for 66 years
Given I doubt this column will touch motorsport very regularly, it’s worth seizing the moment to note Maserati’s victory in a Formula E race in Jakarta recently.
As Max Günther crossed the line he ended a 66-year wait for a single-seater win for the Italian marque, the last one having been scored by Juan Manuel Fangio in a 250F at the Nürburgring in 1957.
Times change, as the cliché goes, and you’re unlikely to find two bookends that illustrate this better.
By chance, I was with Maserati UK’s general manager Peter Charters this week. His job, of course, is to sell as many cars as possible, but he also offered a timely reminder that motorsport is as galvanising internally as it is beneficial to raising the company profile.
‘Suddenly everyone was talking about it, rallying around and looking for clips of the race,’ he said. ‘The end goal has to be brand awareness, but it’s easy to overlook just how powerful success in motorsport is internally.’
Alonso’s restless genius
Cycling fans are used to the concept of marginal gains. Here’s a lesson from double Formula 1 World Champion (and Monaco GP and Le Mans winner) Fernando Alonso.
So used is the Spaniard to being besieged wherever he goes, even within the confines of an F1 paddock, he has worked out that he has to keep moving at all times; if he stops, he’s surrounded and stuck.
As a result, he has taken to only signing autographs or doing selfies for people that approach him from the side, wielding the pen at his hips or arching one way or the other to help deliver the all-important snap, always while still moving forwards.
Look on YouTube or watch closely in the TV coverage in future and you’ll notice it immediately. Another, albeit minor, example of his restless genius at work.
