If you are an F1 fanatic, you inevitably fall in one of two camps: you’re either a Brawn / Byrne fan or you are an Adrian Newey fan. I don’t know too many who really love both.
I’m a Brawn / Byrne fan, to the extent that I actually no longer admire Newey as much as I once did.
My problem with Newey is he’d rather his car broke in the lead than it secured a safe second place. He’s a prima donna with immense sense of his own value and Ron Dennis had to let him go for that, for example. Then, of course, he found the biggest budget ever and the rest is history and nobody will take the massive Red Bull success away from him. But I’m a much bigger fan of Brawn and Byrne.
They were first brought together by Tom Walkinshaw who found a home for their abandoned Reynard plans at Benetton (nee Toleman) where they thrived despite having to operate under Flavio Briatore. They re-wrote the record books together at Ferrari (though lots of credit probably has to be given to Jean Todt for keeping Luca di Montezemolo off their back, to say nothing of the contribution of a certain Michael Schumacher) and then Ross Brawn wrote some history entirely of his own at Honda / Brawn / Mercedes.
The other thing I totally love about Ross Brawn is, unlike Newey, he’s still very much with his original wife, he does not have aspirations to do a road car or America’s Cup, he could not care less if he never becomes a household name and his favorite way to spend time is fishing. His choice of vintage cars is awesome too.
Oh, and he’s won the World Championship with a car bearing his name. The previous person to ever do that was called Frank Williams, the one before Enzo Ferrari and the one before that Jack Brabham.
I feel good about being a Ross Brawn fan, bottom line.
“Total Competition” is a conversation between my hero Ross Brawn and a moderately successful egotist called Adam Parr who went to Cambridge (note: Ross did not attend university and Parr draws him into a conversation about his apprenticeship) to study English, ended up in F1 with Williams after stints in the City and in mining and went on to do a PhD in “The Art of War” (no, seriously, if not that, then something very close to that) after he (rightly or wrongly, who knows) got fired by Frank Williams.
The undercurrent of the book seems to be that what we have here is two guys who both suffered an injustice at the hands of the Bernie Ecclestone-supported Toto Wolff because they were not good at reading the politics of the workplace. If you are interested in that, then do buy and read the book.
I am, so I did, and I found out a few more things in the bargain. Skip the following bulletpoints if you are buying the book, because here’s the list of things the book confirms:
• Bernie attempted to scoop the carcass of the Honda F1 team from under Ross Brawn mid-2009.
• Richard Branson did as much too, but Honda actually caused him quite some embarrassment by having Ross Brawn at the other end of the conference call.
• Bernie refused for the longest time to pay Brawn F1 their prize money dues (citing the lack of continuity between Honda and Brawn), hoping that they would become more amenable to his embrace. (No mention is made, on the other hand, of the fact that it was Max Mosley’s FIA that frustrated Ecclestone’s plans and saved Ross Brawn’s bacon by keeping the double diffuser legal)
• Bernie’s deal involved Honda paying him, rather than the other way round, of course.
• The Mercedes engine was worth 1 second a lap versus the Honda engine, so Honda would not have walked the 2009 championship.
• It was Martin Whitmarsh who made the decision to allow Brawn to have the Mercedes engine.
• If Brawn is to be believed, Ron Dennis to this day blames Whitmarsh for the subsequent slump in McLaren’s fortunes, which he pins on this one decision and its consequences.
• In Ross Brawn’s opinion, the “distance” between himself and Ecclestone has its roots in Brawn’s staunch defense in 2009 of his rights to prize money from the previous years.
• Mercedes underperformed in 2010 – 2012 because Brawn was too loyal to Norbert Haug to go over his head and ask Stuttgart for a proper budget like the competition had and was thus stuck with a budget that was the same as Williams, except Mercedes spent more of that budget on drivers and less on the cars.
• One year Mercedes actually had Ross Brawn’s budget cut by 29 million, in keeping with the original Haug proposal.
• Bernie Ecclestone personally called Ross Brawn in 2012 and in essence warned him that he was about to be replaced.
• Bernie Ecclestone called Dieter Zetsche, who did not know better, told him he could no longer work with Brawn and foisted Toto Wolff and Niki Lauda upon him. Both have extensive Ecclestone connections, of course, Toto Wolff via Williams (God knows Frank’s shop needed to be saved at some point, and in a tax-efficient manner) and his former driver Niki Lauda he’d less successfully installed at Jaguar before, for similar purposes.
• The legendary, standard-setting, record-breaking, championship-deciding Ferrari F1 reliability has its roots in the application of quality-control procedures borrowed from, wait for this… FIAT road cars. Who woulda thunk? Next time I’m buying a car, maybe I should put my prejudices to one side.
• Alonso, the best driver since Michael Schumacher’s departure (and arguably even before) was shown the door at Ferrari because his posse of acolytes have convinced him he can actually run the design office too and Ferrari had to draw the line somewhere. This is stuff I have been told before, but I’d never read in print and it was interesting to see it confirmed.
There’s also some revisionist history here. For example, Brawn takes pride in working with the people he finds in every team, rather than bringing his own guys with him, but in my view that’s only the case because English contracts are tough to break, and ultimately not true. So, for example, the chief designer at Ferrari has been a guy with Benetton beginnings throughout 1997-2016, with both of Rory Byrne’s successors having gotten their first F1 job at Enstone.
Also, Ross Brawn is really not allowed to count his years at Williams as Brawn championships. Much as I am a Brawn fan rather than a Newey fan, and no offense meant to Patrick Head, those championships have “Adrian Newey” written all over them, with their car a carbon copy of the Leyton House March in 1991, ’92, ’93 and ’94, in the eyes of an amateur enthusiast like myself, at any rate.
But I guess that’s standard. If you make the mistake of reading a driver’s autobiography, it’s usually a race-by-race account of how he was always faster than his teammate and all times he was outqualified there was some outside reason for it. Compared to that standard (and that IS the appropriate standard, incidentally) Ross Brawn is a very modest man and well deserving of the adulation he gets.
The book, however, is very difficult to enjoy.
For every tidbit of information from the great man, there is a whole lot of “strategy” mumbo jumbo that Adam Parr foists on you. Like, if he was not talking to the man who personified pitwall strategy better than anyone before or since (the stochastic programming geekoids have since taken over), I’d give him a pass. But I can’t.
Ross Brawn did not lose his bearings when it came to strategy. He knew exactly how to get Mercedes to the front. It’s just that it would entail brushing aside people who had been good to him. And at that stage he had exactly zero to prove. He was, like Cassius, “aweary of the world.”
In summary, if you want to discover how City people think about the Chinese “Art of War” as it applies to Ross Brawn’s career, this is the only book on the subject that is ever likely to appear, so go ahead and buy it.
Otherwise, give it a miss.