Tempting Fate

The sad event of this season's opening race, the death of a marshal, sat particularly uneasily with me. For my Masters studies and final dissertation I studied safety and fatalities in Formula One. One question often asked of me by the none, sporadic and seasonal F1 spectator alike is 'why didn't have Senna's death have a more negative impact?' With this in mind, on the Friday night before the Australian Grand Prix I passed the idea of writing an article on that subject by my mother and noted I was slightly uneasy about. I was uneasy as it is a difficult topic to discuss. The thing I love about Planet F1 is its quest, and I feel success, in providing the all round picture, the news, the facts, the figures, the humour and the serious questions. Fatalities in the sport is no doubt the most serious of all the topics raised and could I possibly do such a sensitive subject justice in this great open forum without sounding like a heartless academic bore? And this was not my main cause of unease. Inherently superstitious, there was also the sense of tempting fate, inviting the devil in. I decided to think on it and then Sunday came.

There are probably many who think I am bordering on the dramatic but my research had a far greater impact on me than I ever suspected it would. Armed with a sociological theory which investigates the changing attitudes of people to violence and bloodshed my interest in motorsports and sociology married. As a new area I knew I had to do the majority of ground work myself, there was little sociological writings about motorsport to point me in the right direction - that's alright I thought, I'm up for the challenge. Reading every related book I could lay my hands on it was easy to scratch the surface - F1 has become safer, these are the people and events involved in that process but anecdotal reminiscence would not be enough alone. And so I set about the task of researching each fatality and the events surrounding them more in-depth.

What followed was the most harrowing time. There's many a book with lists and statistics - lap times, records, championships, most poles. What you don't find is a definitive list of fatalities - it is hardly a subject that you want to present in the cold form of table but for my studies that's exactly what I had to do. With books, magazines and newspapers of the times I sat for weeks and tirelessly referenced and cross-referenced the fatalities of drivers, spectators and officials. There were times when I could do nothing more than detach myself completely as I drew the table of dates and causes up. Then there were times when I had to read the occurrences and could do nothing but cry. Sat over an aging, dusty micro-film machine in the library I would well up as I found another report of a death and had to read it and examine the tone and style. I cried for drivers who'd been nothing more than names in a history book and I cried for drivers whom I'd never heard of. A driver who died in a crash witnessed by his mother who broke through the security and pleaded for someone to help her son in vain. A driver who died in a hospital ward that would see his wife a few days later as she miscarried their child. There were times when I had to close the study door and just leave it behind.

I became quite edgy and to an extent still feel that. I would not say I have become obsessed by safety though it has changed my experience of motor sport for ever. I have become mildly obsessed when I see people letting their children swing on safety fencing to the point I have to say something. Whilst attending a motorbike race I scanned the track and pointed out that a certain corner should surely have catch fencing. Two laps later a bike crashed, a stray tyre flew over the small wall and hit a spectator on the head, who amazingly was nothing more than dazed. You can see why I became nervous of somehow tempting fate. In many ways tempting fate is nothing more than the acceptance of certain statistics and odds. I can 'foretell' it is highly likely in motor cycle racing this year someone will badly break their leg, that's experience not clairvoyance, but there's that lingering belief that if you think it you'll somehow cause it, self-fulfilling prophecy and all that.

The results of my studies have now become so ingrained on my mind I think it is familiarity rather than rationale that has brought me to terms that a harrowing aspect of sport is almost my specialist subject and I hope I can share those findings and thoughts without upsetting and unsettling others.

One of my main focuses was the changing presentation of fatalities by both the newspaper and specialist press from 1950. In the briefest of summaries I found that the reporting of fatalities showed a very definite pattern. Analysing The Times I found that until the late 1960s the death of drivers was reported in the front, feature section of the newspaper whilst the race report was in the sports section. This suggests that the fatality was seen as newsworthy for the general readership. From the 1970s any fatalities were reported within the race report in the sports section as the sport was seen as being a specialist interest at a time when the sports popularity was low in Britain. It was also evident that from the mid-1960s the use of what I termed 'crash photography' (photographs that showed the crash, aftermath or injured driver) increased.

Within the specialist press from 1950 fatalities were included in the main report often in the second paragraph after a summary of the result. The writing was with feeling but, from the view of today, could be very matter of fact as an accepted consequence of the risks.

In both the newspapers and specialist press we see a return to reporting the death seperately from the race (or testing) in the 1980s with the most recent deaths of Senna and Ratzenberger in 1994 showing a marked move to even greater emphasis on the death and only a short race report 'in light of events'.

When people talk of sensationalist reporting this is thought of in terms of deliberate language and imagery to arouse emotion amongst people and reporting has become increasingly sensationalist mostly by the increased use of crash photography. After Senna's death the majority of newspapers (tabloid and broadsheet) accompanied the reports with a succession of graphic photographs, including frame by frame depictions of the crash. There was little public outcry about the use of these photographs, including ones showing Senna being treated trackside. Using such photographs was more hotly debated after the death of Diana, Princess of Wales in 1997. Photos of people being treated can be immensely distressing and as such writer Bill Boddy would not use photographs of fatal crashes in his book, a history of motor racing at Brooklands.

As well as the print media to consider there is the increased television coverage, bringing live events into the home, risk et al. Television coverage of crashes can be incredibly graphic and when live, there is little scope to edit. What many find distasteful is the repeating of serious crashes. For many if the crash results in little or no injury it is acceptable to be shown repeatedly and there are compilation videos as such. There is undoubtedly a thrill, a sense of victory around these - the oh so close but death cheated factor. Yes, there are people who watch the sport in the hope of seeing 'spectacular' crashes. I once overheard a man say to his young son at a race 'we'll stand here as this is the best place for crashes'. That sent a shiver down my spine. The question is of personal taste and therefore open to debate but when does crash footage cross the line? We have what some call a morbid fascination with death, supposedly the last great taboo. You may agree the showing of fatal crashes is wrong but would you still look?

Professor Sid Watkins, who treated Gilles Villeneuve trackside after his fatal accident remembers how sickening he found it to see the footage shown time and time again, including telephoto lens close ups of Gilles being intubated. It is difficult to assess the wide ranging effect witnessing such events has on the wide audience. Having read accounts from drivers, journalists, workers and spectators it is clear that such events can generate feelings of grief, horror and anger yet may also appear to many as a very remote and distance event. Even Gerhard Berger has said how he remembers Jochen Rindt's death as being a 'television event', something remote.

I thought this didn't apply to myself in any way. I've always been grieved and disturbed by tragedies I have witnessed both on television and live. Then I attended a motorbike race last year. An amateur crashed in front of me, got up, took his crash helmet off and dusted himself down. He was wonderfully happy to be uninjured as he was flying out in a few hours time to compete in the Isle of Man TT races. I remember almost resenting him - he was putting a real person to a name in a programme. I watched the TT reports and when his name never appeared under that dreaded heading 'TT Tragedy' I sighed a sigh of relief. A few months later I switched on the television to do my usual scan of the motorsport teletext news and there was his name. He wouldn't be coming home from the Manx National races, killed instantly in a pile up. Obviously he wasn't the first driver or rider who's face I knew to leave us, and I realistically I accept he may not be the last, but I realised how easy it is distance yourself as a protection.

It was the risk of exposing the viewing public to a possible live death (sic) that made many people uneasy during the 1980s, for reasons including the disastrous effects such an occurrence could have on popularity, popularity related as it is to commercial success. It surprised many when Ayrton Senna's death did not provoke a huge drop in the sports popularity. On the contrary, as Bernie Ecclestone acknowledged, Senna's death actually increased interest in the sport. This increased interest can be put down to many things on which I could write another thesis. Partly the media reaction was favourable, a strange choice of word you may think but hear me out, I use it as the media concentrated on portraying Senna as a great sporting hero, celebrity and ambassador for both his sport and country. There were few calls for the sport to be banned and in the immediate aftermath the reporting, notably in the newspapers, called for an investigation but with little blame mongering. All this at the same that the call for boxing to be banned was once more vocal in the light of Bradley Stone's death.

This approach to Senna's death and the respect shown for him increased many spectators attachment to the sport - it was a time of mass mourning which brought many people together. Senna's death generated a huge amount of publicity which opened the sport up to a new audience. The global, emotional and genuinely felt reaction to this man's death no doubt proved intriguing to many people with no prior interest in the sport. Since 1994 television audiences have grown. It was a story that surpassed sport. On the anniversary of Senna's death a swarm of feature journalists were sent out by the newspapers - they were out for sadness and that it might just trigger something similar happening again.

We want motor racing to be exhilarating. When its stagnant the debate cries motor sport is too safe and lacks spirit. When a tragedy occurs we're not safe enough. When Jacques Villeneuve said the sport was too safe he was called a nutcase. When Jackie Stewart called for greater safety he was branded a cissy. No great safety initiative has ever been borne from the pages of a newspaper but plenty of panic has.

We are now in the situation where Formula One has experienced the death of an official for the second time in under a year. It's a tragic event. Marshals are held in the highest respect by the people of F1, anyone who dismisses marshals, you know where the door is. Yet I was surprised by seasoned journalists in respected columns quick to note that these two deaths heralded 'a trend'. Since 1963 four marshals have been killed in racing accidents. In 1977 Gilles Villeneuve's Ferrari landed in a prohibited area after a collision with Ronnie Peterson. A marshal and spectator who were trying to get spectators to leave the prohibited area were killed. Also in 1977, Tom Pryce hit a marshal who was crossing the track to another incident in Kyalami, both were killed instantly. Last year Paolo Ghinslimberti was killed when hit with debris when it is believed he moved to a prohibited area. Those are the facts, I do not mention them to suggest they are all freak accidents and somehow dissolve the sport of blame. What they all are, are tragic accidents and each case must be scrutinised in detail so Formula One can maintain a high level of safety for those people who give their time and talents for a sport in which we all have a common interest. And remember safety will never be anything more than high, as absolute is not a reality. I find laying the blame at the foot of drivers remarkably distasteful and ultimately counter-productive, quick to judge and slow to learn.

I have an idea of how I suspect a driver fatality would be approached in the future. I will not write it here, it literally is purely academic. My sense of superstition prevails and it isn't a subject I have any great desire to be able to look back and say 'I was right' and 'told you so'.

Motor racing is inherently dangerous and always will be. I haven't debated the physical why and wherefore of safety here. I dislike the sight of ambulances on the track as the race snakes slowly passed, something I've seen a number of times both in F1 and in motorcycle racing. Having had a mouthful of burst tyre one occasion and turf the next I realise I've been in the line of fire. I'm guilty of standing right up to the wire and moaning when photos return a mass of out of focus fencing. But my knowledge of safety is probably seen more as relating to heart than head. I do not have the practical knowledge and expertise that is needed at the root of this debate. At the end of the day I belong to the legion of talkers whilst away in a committee room the FIA Advisory Expert Group are do-ers who's time is better spent investigating and developing the safety initiatives and not a publicity campaign to appease the critics.

As I look back on what I've written I realise I've barely touched the true nature of my studies and probably left you with more questions than possible answers but I suppose I couldn't realistically summarise 20,000 words here anyway. This has probably been more for my own cathartic benefit, a luxury I hope you'll grant me this time.

© Rebecca Hobbs

(c)RH PR 2007