NASCAR’s ‘Car of Tomorrow’ was introduced in 2007; Dale Earnhardt Jr, racing here, disliked it
Wireimage
As Formula 1 continues to grapple with the riddle of how much electrification and road car relevance translates to grand prix racing, American motor sport is faced with its own existential battle. US fans are forced to choose between spec racing – the governing philosophy used by IndyCar and NASCAR – and Balance of Performance, a tactic shared by the FIA’s World Endurance Championship and the IMSA SportsCar Championship.
Spec racing is often pursued with the goal of cutting costs, but it certainly has value; the Mazda MX-5 Cup, Porsche Carrera Cup and Lamborghini Super Trofeo series put on some of the most entertaining competition you will see. But spec racing has no place at the top level of motor sport, where designing and developing a car in relatively free competition should be an important part of the equation.
NASCAR and IndyCar experimented with ‘equivalency formulas’ in the 1970s, adjusting car weight for various sizes and types of powerplants. Management turned into micromanagement in the ’80s when NASCAR would specify a different rear spoiler height for each manufacturer, or USAC would set alternate levels of turbocharger boost for every participating engine, all in search of the elusive ‘level playing field’.
IndyCar racing grew in popularity outside Indianapolis under CART sanction in the 1980s, but rapidly improving technology and its associated costs were one of the key reasons Tony George instigated ‘the split’ when he started the Indy Racing League in 1996. Although it featured multiple engine and chassis manufacturers, the IRL committed to a spec car philosophy from the start, with few or no modifications allowed to suspension, bodywork or other major areas.
The split scared the money out of IndyCar racing, and by the turn of the century, CART teams could no longer afford to buy incrementally improved new cars every year. For financial reasons, CART adopted a spec Ford-Cosworth engine in 2003, and by then, with Reynard reeling, Lola had become the de facto spec chassis. When Champ Car unveiled the Panoz DP01 for 2007, it was a full spec car. The IRL was forced to adopt a common Honda engine a year earlier, and 2006 also marked the final year of multiple chassis suppliers.
At the same time Champ Car was rolling out its ‘Car of the Future’, NASCAR’s first stab at a spec car was known as the ‘Car of Tomorrow’. The 2007 CoT was boxy and ugly, and it drove as badly as it looked. “I never really connected with that car from the very beginning,” comments retired NASCAR legend Dale Earnhardt Jr.
“NASCAR’s ‘Car of Tomorrow’ in 2007 drove as badly as it looked”
More importantly, teams were no longer allowed to fabricate their own tube frames, rollcages and sheet metal, instead forced to adhere to approved chassis, suspension and symmetrical body templates. In that aspect, NASCAR’s pivot to standardised equipment wiped out a cottage industry of specialists. The backlash was even greater when NASCAR mandated a totally new ‘Next Gen’ car in 2023 that was technologically and aerodynamically closer akin to a GT3 sports car than a traditional stock car.
What is a Le Mans Hypercar? And which entries are under these rules? All the information on the front-runners for the 2026 season and beyond
Engine competition between Honda and Chevrolet returned to IndyCar in 2012 but married to the same fundamental spec Dallara chassis that will remain in use through to the end of 2027. An attempt to create visual differences between Chevy and Honda-powered cars through manufacturer designed ‘aero kits’ from 2015-17 was an expensive and embarrassing flop, the comically be-winged cars failing to excite the public or improve the racing. Since 2018, all aspects of IndyCar with the exception of engines are spec, and the only area truly open for development is shocks and dampers, and that governing path will continue when the spec 2028 Dallara chassis finally hits the track, see Hot Wheels.
For its GTP (née Hypercar) class, IMSA took the IndyCar concept of allowing manufacturers to create bespoke bodywork for a homologated chassis, then mandated a standardised gearbox and energy recovery hybrid system while allowing much more freedom in terms of engine configuration. Porsche and BMW field turbocharged V8s, Acura favours a turbocharged V6, while Cadillac brings the noise with a naturally aspirated V8. The Aston Martin Valkyrie runs to a different ruleset, but the sound of its shrieking V12 leaves a lasting impression.
That kind of variety is why I’ve philosophically come down on the side of ‘Team BoP’. I don’t love the heavy-handed way IMSA (or in Europe, the FIA) makes minute adjustments of 5bhp or 2 kg to every car between races in its zeal to even things up. But at least manufacturers are allowed to fundamentally try to pursue their own design path instead of just maximising the same equipment used by everybody else.
It’s easy to be an old man yelling at the clouds, wishing every form of racing could have the economics to support the kind of true competition that still prevails in F1. But sports car racing has managed to preserve a commendable level of diversity and individual brand identity while keeping costs at an acceptable level, to the extent that it is attracting record levels of manufacturer participation. As a bonus, the trackside experience is far more enjoyable for fans when every car looks and sounds different.
Based in Indianapolis, John Oreovicz has been covering US racing for 33 years. He is the author of Indy Split (2021) and Class of ’99 (2025).
