The following is a condensed version of "Driving Like Ayn Rand" by G. Patrick Lynch, published at Law & Liberty.
Ayn Rand would have loved Netflix’s Formula 1 reality series Drive to Survive. It depicts the sport as exciting and hip, but also individualistic, competitive, and frankly, selfish. It’s as close to Galt’s Gulch as sports can possibly be. F1 cars are the most advanced in the world. Their drivers run on circuits that require sublime skill and precision. In 2019 the top three teams, Mercedes, Red Bull, and Ferrari each had annual budgets of close to half a billion dollars. The 20 best drivers in the world, the Hank Rearden’s of racing, compete in F1 races around the globe.
The impact of Drive to Survive on the popularity of F1, particularly in the US, is undeniable. In a poll of F1 American fans, 53% cited the show as the main reason they followed the sport.
So what would have drawn Rand to F1? The stark, radical individualism of the sport, which is heavily emphasized in the show.
Drive to Survive is skillfully crafted with cutting edge cinematography. The episodes follow drivers and the team “principals” who equate to head coaches. Drivers and teams compete for points and championships each season. Realistically only the top teams expect to win races and championships. However, each driver faces fierce competition even from their own teammates. Teammates are given cars that are “set up” identically providing a measuring stick of driver skill. Defeating your teammate can lead to promotions to wealthier teams.
The drivers are frequently shown with their performance coaches in isolated settings–for example, Mercedes drivers Valtteri Bottas and his trainer by a tranquil lakeside or Lewis Hamilton leaving the track in the evening darkness with his performance coach lamenting the hours they put in to succeed. The sacrifices are immense and promote antisocial behavior and what the drivers frequently admit is “selfishness.” Even joking between competitors is ruthless and cutting.
Bottas wins the Russian Grand Prix by disobeying his team during qualifying, compromising Mercedes’ race plans. Bottas' initial qualifying time should have placed both Mercedes drivers in the front row. Instead, after qualifying, Bottas provided a “tow” for Red Bull’s Max Verstappen. Bottas dropped to third where he was better positioned to win the race because of the track’s unique characteristics. There may be no “I” in team, but there certainly are many incentives for “I’s” to pursue goals contrary to team objectives.
Pierre Gasly provides a stark contrast. Gasly has been racing since he was young and has won at every level. But there are glimpses that he may not be quite as maniacal, borderline psychopathic about winning as some of his competitors. He began driving for Red Bull’s second team, but when he was promoted to the top team in 2019, he struggled with the pressure and expectations.
Red Bull demoted him to the second team and that same week a young French driver and friend of Gasly’s was killed in a race prior to the Belgian Grand Prix. Gasly performs well despite the adversity and is retained by the team for the following season, but his career and life are at a crossroads.
We learn of Nico Rosberg, a previous champion of F1. He and Hamilton had been friends racing in the lower divisions, but in F1 the friendship ended as they battled each other. The demands of performing at the highest level had laid bare the uncompromising self-interest and willingness to turn on friends in the name of winning. It’s zero-sum, brutal and sometimes lethal. Rand herself wrote in The Fountainhead that “To say 'I love you' one must first know how to say 'I.'” Both Rosberg and Hamilton clearly understood how to say I.
Returning to Belgium, Gasly places flowers at the site of his friend’s death and looks skyward, still mourning while his fellow competitors are throwing teammates and friendships aside to win. Later that season at the Italian Grand Prix, chaos ensues when an accident puts Gasly in the lead after other drivers are forced to pit. Gasly holds off several cars for his first and only victory. He is redeemed and joyous as he enters the pits and jumps in the arms of his delirious crew.
Had Gasly’s friend survived the crash and ascended to F1, would their friendship have perished like others in F1? Gasly was cosmically rewarded for his humanity, but he is still a mid-level driver. Rand gave us ideal figures, but they live alone like the Hamiltons of the world. Gasly is somewhat fuller and more human in this unrelentingly atomistic world of self-interest. But he’s not winning. And what it takes to win becomes clearer and darker for viewers. The distance between one of the 20 best and one of the rest is larger than we tend to realize. And perhaps scarier than we can fully comprehend.
G. Patrick Lynch is a Senior Fellow at Liberty Fund.
