Red Bull's trial of an alternative cockpit protection system during free practice for the Russian Grand Prix brought Formula 1's ongoing safety debate back into sharp focus.
I find it bizarre that there is any debate when it comes to protecting human life, but this is what we have. It's a debate between the 'old school' of thought, which says danger is - and should be - part of F1's raw appeal, and what could almost be considered the 'politically correct' line of reasoning, which argues anything that improves safety is a no-brainer.
The fear within the old school seems to be born of a sense that safety is becoming an end in itself, rather than simply a means to justify the end of preventing death and destruction in racing cars. Safety for safety's sake.
When F1's first real push for safety began, drivers were dying frequently. The view of those such as Jackie Stewart, who felt strongly that enough was enough and drivers should be better protected, was considered unfashionable and unpalatable.
'This is a dangerous sport and it should stay that way' went the received wisdom. JYS was considered an extremist within motor-racing circles.
Now it's fashionable to think the way Stewart did: that everything that can be done to improve safety in F1 should be done. Is that right?
Or is it time F1 started listening to what is now theunfashionable line of thinking: that it should be dangerous and that drivers should be risking their lives in order to bolster the championship's appeal?
Personally, I think this is nonsense. F1's main problem with cockpit protection is not a question of need; it is a question of aesthetics.
If people saw the 'halo' or the 'aeroscreen' for the first time and went 'Wow! That looks great on an F1 car!' there would be very little debate. It's safer. We put it on. Everyone just gets on with their lives.
The reason it's a problem is that people think cockpit protection looks ugly, and will detract from the visual splendour of F1 – seeing the drivers in their cars and the cars themselves in beautiful proportion.
Once the aeroscreen appeared, most of the questions ran along the lines of 'Have you seen it? What do you think?' People are being asked about the aesthetic, and confusing dislike of that aesthetic with dislike of its function.
I suspect even Lewis Hamilton, who is clearly part of the 'old school' camp in this debate, would like Red Bull's "riot shield" if it unequivocally looked cool.
He hates the look, and that leads the debate down a bunkum binary path – I don't like how it looks, so the answer must be to do nothing or risk losing a key part of F1's appeal.
The answer is to make it look good – then people won't care.
There was a time when seatbelts and helmets were not part of racing and certainly not mandatory. Now it's unthinkable that drivers would not put on their helmets and get strapped into the cars. Indeed, helmets are now thought of as cool – and a key part of a driver's identity.
Seatbelts don't matter because we can't see them. One of the criticisms of Red Bull's aeroscreen, specifically, is that it obstructs our view of the driver from outside the car. Again, however people feel about safety, it all boils down to the aesthetic.
Form is just as important as function when it comes to design. That's where the thinking over cockpit protection in F1 is really coming from. Find an aesthetic that's generally pleasing to the eye and this 'problem' will go away.
Perhaps F1 needs to go the whole hog and fully enclose the cockpit, rather than trying in vain to retain an element of openness?
McLaren released images of a futuristic F1 concept car at the end of last year that featured a fully enclosed cockpit, and there was nothing like the same angst over how it looked.
Something that is properly designed and fully integrated with the rest of the car should look fine. The trouble with what we've seen so far is that they are add-ons to open-cockpit cars, so they look erroneous.
"I used to watch F1 powerboats in Bristol docks with the family about 30 years ago," recalls Jenson Button. "They had open cockpits, which was the norm, then suddenly they had closed cockpits.
"I thought they looked pretty cool. It's the same sort of thing – you get used to it and you can still pick out which driver's which.
"If it's doing what we hope, which is improving safety to the head, then it's definitely the way forward.
"If we can make it look good as well, that's important in F1. The fans want the cars to look good and sound good."
There is also a misconception of heroism at the heart of this debate. There's nothing heroic about someone putting their life at risk just for the entertainment of a few million people.
The appeal of sport is entertainment through feats of extreme skill in a competitive environment.
Every time footballers take to the field they risk breaking their legs in a tackle, but only a certain kind of sadist would actually watch a football match because of that risk.
The laws of the game have been adjusted over time to prevent reckless and dangerous tackling and reduce the number of injuries.
Similar actions are taken in other contact sports – rugby players are cited for dangerous behaviour; boxing matches are usually stopped at the first signs of serious trouble for the fighters.
They don't usually go on bludgeoning each other until someone's skull caves in...
This inevitably leads to criticism that those sports have been 'sanitised', but this is patently ridiculous. Sport is about appreciating skill, not seeing harm done to a fellow person. Anyone who thinks otherwise needs help.
Any cricket fan would surely argue that head protection should be improved in that sport, following Phillip Hughes' death in 2014. I would be surprised if anyone worth listening to would argue that the risk of serious injury from a ball to the head is a key part of cricket's appeal.
As far as F1 is concerned it is always going to be more dangerous than football, rugby and cricket, just as it will always be a safer sport than boxing, IndyCar racing on ovals, and motorcycle racing.
There is nothing wrong with liking accidents. They are exciting to watch. But that doesn't mean they need to be life-threatening.
Do people really watch motorcycle racing because of the risk that someone may fall off and be seriously hurt or killed? I doubt it. As soon as any rider falls we all hope they are OK.
This is also true in car racing. When Fernando Alonso crashed frighteningly in the Australian Grand Prix, everyone was glad to see him walk away. There was no collective sense of disappointment that he wasn't grievously wounded.
Alonso is right when he says we don't need heroes in F1. What we need are great drivers in fantastic cars, who are capable of displaying feats of racing skill that are beyond the rest of humankind.
Top sports stars are heroes to the public because of the skill with which they ply their trade, not because they could die at any moment.
This is true in every other sport. Why should it be any different in Formula 1?
Red Bull's trial of an alternative cockpit protection system during free practice for the Russian Grand Prix brought Formula 1's ongoing safety debate back into sharp focus.
I find it bizarre that there is any debate when it comes to protecting human life, but this is what we have. It's a debate between the 'old school' of thought, which says danger is - and should be - part of F1's raw appeal, and what could almost be considered the 'politically correct' line of reasoning, which argues anything that improves safety is a no-brainer.
The fear within the old school seems to be born of a sense that safety is becoming an end in itself, rather than simply a means to justify the end of preventing death and destruction in racing cars. Safety for safety's sake.
When F1's first real push for safety began, drivers were dying frequently. The view of those such as Jackie Stewart, who felt strongly that enough was enough and drivers should be better protected, was considered unfashionable and unpalatable.
'This is a dangerous sport and it should stay that way' went the received wisdom. JYS was considered an extremist within motor-racing circles.
Now it's fashionable to think the way Stewart did: that everything that can be done to improve safety in F1 should be done. Is that right?
Or is it time F1 started listening to what is now theunfashionable line of thinking: that it should be dangerous and that drivers should be risking their lives in order to bolster the championship's appeal?
Personally, I think this is nonsense. F1's main problem with cockpit protection is not a question of need; it is a question of aesthetics.
If people saw the 'halo' or the 'aeroscreen' for the first time and went 'Wow! That looks great on an F1 car!' there would be very little debate. It's safer. We put it on. Everyone just gets on with their lives.
The reason it's a problem is that people think cockpit protection looks ugly, and will detract from the visual splendour of F1 – seeing the drivers in their cars and the cars themselves in beautiful proportion.
Once the aeroscreen appeared, most of the questions ran along the lines of 'Have you seen it? What do you think?' People are being asked about the aesthetic, and confusing dislike of that aesthetic with dislike of its function.
I suspect even Lewis Hamilton, who is clearly part of the 'old school' camp in this debate, would like Red Bull's "riot shield" if it unequivocally looked cool.
He hates the look, and that leads the debate down a bunkum binary path – I don't like how it looks, so the answer must be to do nothing or risk losing a key part of F1's appeal.
The answer is to make it look good – then people won't care.
There was a time when seatbelts and helmets were not part of racing and certainly not mandatory. Now it's unthinkable that drivers would not put on their helmets and get strapped into the cars. Indeed, helmets are now thought of as cool – and a key part of a driver's identity.
Seatbelts don't matter because we can't see them. One of the criticisms of Red Bull's aeroscreen, specifically, is that it obstructs our view of the driver from outside the car. Again, however people feel about safety, it all boils down to the aesthetic.
Form is just as important as function when it comes to design. That's where the thinking over cockpit protection in F1 is really coming from. Find an aesthetic that's generally pleasing to the eye and this 'problem' will go away.
Perhaps F1 needs to go the whole hog and fully enclose the cockpit, rather than trying in vain to retain an element of openness?
McLaren released images of a futuristic F1 concept car at the end of last year that featured a fully enclosed cockpit, and there was nothing like the same angst over how it looked.
Something that is properly designed and fully integrated with the rest of the car should look fine. The trouble with what we've seen so far is that they are add-ons to open-cockpit cars, so they look erroneous.
"I used to watch F1 powerboats in Bristol docks with the family about 30 years ago," recalls Jenson Button. "They had open cockpits, which was the norm, then suddenly they had closed cockpits.
"I thought they looked pretty cool. It's the same sort of thing – you get used to it and you can still pick out which driver's which.
"If it's doing what we hope, which is improving safety to the head, then it's definitely the way forward.
"If we can make it look good as well, that's important in F1. The fans want the cars to look good and sound good."
There is also a misconception of heroism at the heart of this debate. There's nothing heroic about someone putting their life at risk just for the entertainment of a few million people.
The appeal of sport is entertainment through feats of extreme skill in a competitive environment.
Every time footballers take to the field they risk breaking their legs in a tackle, but only a certain kind of sadist would actually watch a football match because of that risk.
The laws of the game have been adjusted over time to prevent reckless and dangerous tackling and reduce the number of injuries.
Similar actions are taken in other contact sports – rugby players are cited for dangerous behaviour; boxing matches are usually stopped at the first signs of serious trouble for the fighters.
They don't usually go on bludgeoning each other until someone's skull caves in...
This inevitably leads to criticism that those sports have been 'sanitised', but this is patently ridiculous. Sport is about appreciating skill, not seeing harm done to a fellow person. Anyone who thinks otherwise needs help.
Any cricket fan would surely argue that head protection should be improved in that sport, following Phillip Hughes' death in 2014. I would be surprised if anyone worth listening to would argue that the risk of serious injury from a ball to the head is a key part of cricket's appeal.
As far as F1 is concerned it is always going to be more dangerous than football, rugby and cricket, just as it will always be a safer sport than boxing, IndyCar racing on ovals, and motorcycle racing.
There is nothing wrong with liking accidents. They are exciting to watch. But that doesn't mean they need to be life-threatening.
Do people really watch motorcycle racing because of the risk that someone may fall off and be seriously hurt or killed? I doubt it. As soon as any rider falls we all hope they are OK.
This is also true in car racing. When Fernando Alonso crashed frighteningly in the Australian Grand Prix, everyone was glad to see him walk away. There was no collective sense of disappointment that he wasn't grievously wounded.
Alonso is right when he says we don't need heroes in F1. What we need are great drivers in fantastic cars, who are capable of displaying feats of racing skill that are beyond the rest of humankind.
Top sports stars are heroes to the public because of the skill with which they ply their trade, not because they could die at any moment.
This is true in every other sport. Why should it be any different in Formula 1?
