The Grand Prix Drivers' Association has come out with a statement of dissatisfaction over the way F1 is being run. So, here's the question: what's the GPDA going to do about it?
Given the recent trend of everyone at the top of F1 being focussed on themselves and not giving a stuff what anyone else thinks, the GPDA has about as much chance of being listened to as Donald Trump agreeing that he is no more suitable than I am to run the most powerful nation on earth.
(On second thoughts, I probably could do a better job. I'd take his budget for a wall across the Mexican border and use it to upgrade Watkins Glen and Laguna Seca to F1 standards, knock down half of Long Beach and rebuild the original circuit, shut down Manhattan for a Grand Prix, make Roger Penske and Dan Gurney Deputy Presidents of the USA and place an Extradition Order on the board of CVC Capital Partners for criminal negligence and lock them up in Folsom Prison.)
Sorry, I digressed. While agreeing with every single sentiment expressed by the GPDA, it is regrettable to say that the words are likely to be falling on deaf ears. What they need is Niki Lauda on side. Then there would be every chance of the drivers turning up on Friday in Bahrain and finding Obergruppenfuhrer Lauda waiting at the front gate with a bus.
That's what he did at Kyalami in 1982 when the drivers were upset by a clause that had quietly been inserted into their Superlicences. Actually, not all drivers were upset, mainly because the silly boys had signed without reading the contract properly. Lauda soon put them right by pointing out a clause that would tie the drivers to their respective employers in the manner of a footballer to his team.
There was predictable outrage, wringing of hands -- and not a lot else. Or, at least, not until they were unexpectedly herded on board the bus for a mystery tour of northern Johannesburg that finished for the night in the function room of a hotel. With no drivers, there was no practice and nothing for the paying spectators to watch. You have to admit, that's a pretty strong hand in any dispute.
Can you imagine it now? The physios, PRs and gurus back at the track wouldn't know what to do with themselves; race engineers would have no one to talk to and television presenters would have to spend even longer listening to team principals saying there is absolutely nothing wrong with F1 that an extra couple of million dollars of your money wouldn't cure.
There was none of that back then. In 1982 we had Jean-Marie Balestre running the FIA; a Frenchman whose blustering style of management makes Jean Todt look like a man from Mormons who doesn't actually knock on your door. The gospel according to Balestre claimed all drivers should be punished severely for such insubordination, but it was difficult to get that point across when they weren't there and social media was no more than a beer at Marlboro or Elf, the only watering holes in the paddock.
After a night of piano playing by Gilles Villeneuve and Elio de Angelis, supported by a spoof lecture on terrorism by Bruno Giacomelli, the drivers emerged to agree new terms and take part in the remainder of the weekend. Of course, Balestre had to have the last word as he fined the drivers, but only after the race had started. Compared to what the drivers had actually achieved, his was a pompous token gesture.
It's true that the GPDA now has a much wider roster of comments that can not be dealt with through a couple of calls on a hotel house phone. But even if they could choose just one point of order and go on strike for the sake of it, who knows but the increasingly disenfranchised spectators might do the same. And no need to worry about television viewers; they're likely to be as rare in 2019 as an 'obsolete and ill-structured' F1 management being seen to do something remotely coordinated and sensible today.