The long road to convergence: How F1 closed the gaps of the hybrid era

When Formula 1 overhauled its technical landscape in 2014 with the arrival of 1.6-litre hybrid turbo power units, the competitive order fractured into something close to a two-tier hierarchy.

Mercedes, armed with a power unit one step above the rest, operated so far ahead of its rivals that the championship’s opening chapter felt almost predetermined.

The German squad went on to dominate, winning both titles every year from 2014 to 2020.

What followed over the 12 seasons following the introduction of the hybrid engines, however, was a slow, uneven, parable of convergence – a story of regulatory interpretation, aerodynamic reinvention, and the gradual erosion of what began as the most lopsided advantage in modern times.

As the 2026 rules loom, the current era’s concluding seasons offer a clear vantage point: the gaps that once seemed unbridgeable have not only closed but, in some cases, inverted, as the likes of Red Bull, McLaren and Ferrari have demonstrated that this epoch would not be ruled indefinitely by the same team.

However, fears of another Mercedes-style domination linger as F1 enters a new era, with today’s tightly packed field at risk of being blown apart again if history repeats itself.

Here, we look at how those vast divides narrowed over time, charting the hybrid era’s long journey.

The early chasm (2014–16)

The initial power deficit was not merely significant; it was structurally existential for rivals as Mercedes was the only team/engine manufacturer which managed to hit the ground running.

Its power unit’s thermal efficiency, MGU-H superiority, and energy deployment strategy created straightline advantages that no aerodynamic brilliance could mask.

Williams could sometimes hitch a ride into relevance thanks to the same Mercedes power, but Renault and Ferrari customers were condemned to an era of attritional underperformance.

At the time, the FIA insisted convergence would come, although many dismissed the idea as regulatory optimism.

But the seeds were there: engine homologation was not absolute, the token system (for all its absurdities) allowed incremental evolution, and the sheer financial incentive for Ferrari, Renault, and later Honda guaranteed an endless pursuit of parity.

Mid-era normalisation (2017–20)

By 2017, the aerodynamic reset briefly allowed non-Mercedes teams to claw back tenths.

Ferrari found aerodynamic coherence and engine gains significant enough to challenge Lewis Hamilton’s supremacy with Sebastian Vettel.

The gap was reduced from seconds to tenths, a symbolic but crucial shift that allowed Vettel to stay in contention until the final races of the season.

Red Bull, meanwhile, used Adrian Newey’s customary aerodynamic wizardry to compensate for Renault’s lagging power unit to score a couple of wins.

The differential no longer looked insurmountable and it often looked circuit-dependent. That, in itself, was evidence of convergence.

Honda’s painful re-entry from 2015 to 2017 obscured an important truth: every manufacturer was closing in on Mercedes’ thermal efficiency benchmark.

Once Honda made the existential decision to rebuild its architecture and reorient towards Red Bull’s packaging demands, it initiated the hybrid era’s second major equalisation phase.

The inflexion point (2021)

By 2021, the competitive order – while still dictated by Mercedes and Red Bull – had compressed into something closely resembling equilibrium.

Mercedes no longer possessed unassailable power-unit superiority. Red Bull, aided by Honda’s late-era power surge and a chassis that thrived on high-rake philosophy, frequently held the faster package.

It was the first time since 2014 that the competitive hierarchy felt fluid rather than set in stone.

Ferrari’s slump in 2020 (and the fallout from its confidential settlement with the FIA) created an artificial dip, but its 2021 recovery underscored the broader structural trend: there were no longer any ‘bad’ power units.

The hybrid architecture, once a field of wildly different efficiencies, had converged into a fairly narrow performance window.

The ground-effect reset (2022–23)

The 2022 rules, designed to improve racing by reducing dirty-air sensitivity, inadvertently triggered the hybrid era’s most significant performance change since 2014 – this time in Red Bull’s favour.

Newey and his aerodynamic group deciphered the ground-effect regulations with clarity, producing a car whose efficiency, stability, and aerodynamic load made Max Verstappen nearly untouchable.

The Dutchman completed the most dominant performance by a driver in F1 history in 2023, winning 19 out of 22 races.

Despite that, the gaps between teams closed again far faster than they did a decade earlier.

Ferrari began 2022 on par with Red Bull before development stumbles derailed its title hopes.

Mercedes, whose ‘zero-pod’ concept ultimately led them into a conceptual cul-de-sac, still managed a win.

McLaren, after a dire start to 2023, executed one of the era’s best mid-season transformations, slashing a multi-second deficit to become Red Bull’s most consistent challenger through 2024 and the dominant force in 2025.

The phenomenon of almost instantaneous developmental response became a hallmark of the late hybrid era.

Real convergence (2024-2025)

By 2024, Red Bull’s supremacy was no longer absolute and its 2022–23 head-start had dissipated.

McLaren discovered a conceptual sweet spot and Mercedes finally abandoned its philosophical stubbornness.

The gaps had not only closed, but were now in constant motion. Even though McLaren emerged as the dominant force in 2025, at some circuits up to five teams could qualify within a few tenths.