Who would be Charlie Whiting? Last Sunday he was damned if he did and damned if he didn't.
The race director had to walk the fine line between providing a race for the bedraggled spectators around the track and an expectant audience sitting in the dry at home while, at the same time, carrying the can should something go terribly wrong.
Take Kimi Räikkönen's spin as one example. What if someone had speared through the spray and into the hapless Finn? What if that car had ridden up the nose of the Ferrari and struck the driver? What if bits of debris had flown into the pit lane or the grandstand?
Hypothetical and pessimistic, I know. But it's not difficult to imagine the headlines the following morning as the world - fed by a voracious media - demanded answers. In the event of a fatality or serious injury, the first question in these Health and Safety obsessed days would have been: "Surely it was madness to allow the race to run in those conditions?" Over to you, Mr. Whiting.
As it happens, the race director and his team called it absolutely right. With one proviso. The second red flag was so much of a mystery at the time that Niki Lauda and TV commentators questioned it in public.
In fact, the decision was driven by the fairly certain knowledge that the poor weather was set to continue, thus bringing further tedious safety car running as the clock ticked towards the two-hour cut-off. Far better, it was reasoned, to wait for an improvement and then get on with the racing. Which is exactly what happened. The single failure was not to relay such commendable logic to the waiting world and short-circuit the subsequent bad PR.
Lauda did say that drivers should be allowed to decide for themselves whether or not to race. It's difficult to argue with the triple world champion on that one, particularly when he quit the teeming wet 1976 Japanese Grand Prix knowing that ballsy decision might assist James Hunt to the title.
When discussing last Sunday's "fantastic motor race" (to quote Christian Horner and many others), it is worth noting that the same sentiments might have been voiced post-race at Suzuka 2014 had Jules Bianchi not had his appalling accident. Without getting into a discussion about the reason behind it, the crash did highlight the difficulties facing the man with his finger hovering over the red button.
Much has been written and tweeted about Max Verstappen's drive (and let's not forget Lewis Hamilton's peerless performance at the front) with comparisons being made between the Red Bull driver's stunning commitment and that of Ayrton Senna at Monaco in 1984.
On that day, 32 years ago, the responsibility for halting the wet race lay with Jacky Ickx, the Clerk of the Course. Here was a man who knew all about winning in the rain (think 1968 French Grand Prix at Rouen) and yet he faced calls to have this one stopped. Ickx duly showed the red flag after 31 laps -- just as Senna, driving the cumbersome Toleman-Hart, had caught and was about to pass Alain Prost's leading McLaren-TAG.
Senna's first F1 win denied by an official decision? Possibly not. A look at the lap times shows the leaders being caught hand-over fist by Stefan Bellof in the nimble non-turbo Tyrrell-Ford. Senna's fastest lap had been 1:54.334 on lap 24. His final three laps were 1:55.666, 1:59.008 and 1:59.433. Bellof's final three were 1:54.978 (his fastest), 1:58.949 and 1:59.219.
You will not find Bellof's lap times on the FIA's official Olivetti/Longines results sheets for 1984. His name, and that of team-mate Martin Brundle, was surgically removed after Tyrrell had been thrown out of the championship later in the year.
At least we won't have that to contend with when discussing what might have happened in the championship had different decisions been made last Sunday. Then again, given this roller-coaster season, anything could happen.