Righteousness is fine, but the consequences of righteousness can be far less desirable. At the moment, Formula One appears to be struggling to define itself, trying to choose between being the most highly technological form of motorsports on the planet and saving money for its lesser endowed teams by creating what amounts to a relatively low- spec championship where technology instead of being venerated is throttled to a new full stop.

How the F-1 community resolves its issues, while at the same time trying to repair its somewhat tarnished reputation in the wake of the scandals that surfaced in 2007, is a matter for the world’s most publicized open wheel set to do on its own.

The sports-car scene is also in a quandary over where it goes from here.
Simply put, without clear leadership in Europe, especially on the part of the Federation Internationale de L’Automobile, but also the L’Automobile Club du L’Ouest, the ACO which runs the annual 24 Hours of Le Mans, and from which the American Le Mans Series leases its technical regulations, the future direction of prototype and GT competition is at this moment in a state of flux.
The FIA, which so far has limited its involvement in befendered motorsports to the production-based GT arena, has focused its attention on F-1, while the ACO, having produced an attractive package in its LMP1 and LMP2 sports racing divisions, now seems bent on replacing this high tech machines with something that will more closely resembled the Grand Am’s Daytona Prototypes. And, while the DP community has been relatively successful for the mission of returning competitive equality to the sports-car scene, no one will claim that they represent the leading edge of technology.
All this, then, brings us to the heart of what many believe is the major weakness of the two-seater, enclosed bodywork set: namely that those in charge have forgotten their primary customers — the public. What the public is willing to pay for, or to spend time watching in front of their televisions at home appears to be of little interest to the rules makers.
The ACO wants the ALMS to add weight to its LMP2 category so that it won’t challenge the LMP1 spyders in terms of overall victories, as was the case in 2007. Unfortunately that challenge was the main reason why the ALMS’s popularity grew during the course of this past season.
Indeed, so equal were the LMP1 Audi R10 diesels and the Porsche LMP2 RS Spyders and their Acura opposition that the combined winning margin in the final two races of the year chalked up by the Audis over the Porsches amounted to well under two seconds. Given that the ALMS is in the entertainment business, why would it want to make even the slightest change to give the Audis an extra edge?
The answer is that the ACO could demand that the ALMS remove its moniker from the ALMS’s brand if it doesn’t meet, at least in part, the ACO’s agenda, an agenda based on the needs of the Le Mans 24-Hour alone which has two equal contenders in LMP1, Peugeot and Audi, where the ALMS has the Audis alone as real front runners.
So, would it be so terrible, if the ALMS went on its own way? Given the fact that for more than two decades John Bishop’s IMSA did just that with far more success in North America than the FIA and the ACO did elsewhere around the globe while never incorporating the “Le Mans” name in any of its series, strongly suggests that it really doesn’t matter.
I, for one have no problem getting used to the “American Sports Car Series,” if that means many more years of what I and the rest of the racing-going fans saw in 2007.
It is just a matter of paying close attention to the consequences that really matter, which in this case means exciting competition over anything else.