What will be the first F1 controversy of 2026?

Every major Formula 1 rules reset arrives wrapped in optimism, and every one, without exception, eventually exposes the tensions it was designed to manage.

The 2026 F1 regulations, the most sweeping technical rewrite since the start of the hybrid era, are no different. If anything, given the nature at the heart of the changes, they may prove more politically charged and more vulnerable to fracture.

The promise is familiar: lighter cars, closer racing, a more relevant power unit formula and a championship aligned with modern automotive realities, but the underlying challenge is less comfortable.

Formula 1 is asking its cars to do more with less, and to do so in a way that remains competitive, intelligible and credible under intense scrutiny.

That scrutiny will not only come from rivals and rulemakers, but from drivers and audiences trying to understand what they are seeing.

As the championship leans further into active systems, energy management and efficiency-led performance, the risk is not simply that something fails, but that the racing becomes harder to read even when it is working exactly as intended.

History suggests that when Formula 1’s technical sophistication outpaces its competitive clarity, controversy follows. The 2026 rules appear designed to test that boundary once again.

A power unit balance that could divide the grid

The centrepiece of the 2026 rules is the shift to a near-even split between electrical and combustion power – a change that, while conceptually aligned with modern road-car priorities, carries a significant competitive risk.

On track, the danger is not simply that some solutions will work better than others, but that the differences between power units could be stark.

With electrical deployment, energy recovery and combustion efficiency so tightly intertwined, small advantages in architecture or control strategy risk compounding into sizeable performance gaps.

There have long been fears that one manufacturer was far ahead of the competition, a situation that has led to ‘crisis’ meetings to try to find solutions before it’s too late.

Circuits featuring long straights, sustained high-speed sections or limited recovery opportunities are likely to amplify those differences.

If one manufacturer’s power unit allows its customer teams to deploy aggressively for longer, while another’s requires visible management and compromise, the championship could quickly find itself split along engine lines.

That is where the controversy will take hold.

That will not be framed as clever optimisation or as a part of the new rules rest, but rather as a regulation set that has allowed the field to spread based almost exclusively on power unit philosophy.

In a cost-cap era that has promised convergence, the optics of entire clusters of teams being lifted or limited by their engine choice would be uncomfortable, which might lead to the next potential controversies…

The inevitability of the first loophole

No regulation reset survives its first winter without a loophole controversy, and 2026 already shows signs of following that well-known path.

Even before a car has turned a competitive lap, the FIA has been forced to step in and close off areas of interpretation that manufacturers were beginning to explore.

That alone is revealing, as it underlines just how much scope exists within the new power unit framework, and how aggressively teams are probing it, months before the rules are properly stress-tested in racing conditions.

Whether the eventual flashpoint centres on combustion efficiency, thermal behaviour, energy deployment windows or active aero interpretation almost doesn’t matter.

The first manufacturer to unlock a clear performance advantage will be framed not as ingenious, but as destabilising, particularly if that advantage appears to lift or sink entire groups of teams at once.

From there, the response becomes the controversy (see below).

Clarifications and clampdowns carry political consequences, and each will be interpreted through the lens of who benefits and who loses.

The uncomfortable truth is that Formula 1’s competitive credibility often hinges not on the strength of its regulations, but on how quickly and consistently they are enforced once subjected to genuine pressure.

The fact that the process has already begun suggests 2026 may test that credibility sooner rather than later.

Mid-season adjustments

Perhaps the most likely corrosive controversy of all is also the most familiar: intervention.

Having stable regulations is a key aspect of any sport, and teams should be rewarded for their foresight and execution across a full development cycle.

Mid-season rule changes go directly against that principle.

They may be framed as clarifications or corrections, but in competitive terms, they are often indistinguishable from moving the goalposts, hurting the spirit of the sport in the process.

If the 2026 competitive spread proves extreme, if racing quality falls short, or if energy management becomes too dominant or too visible, pressure on the FIA to act will be immediate. When it does, the championship risks shifting from a contest decided by engineering excellence to one shaped by regulatory timing and political pressure.

That is where discomfort sets in.

Teams which have interpreted the rules successfully and invested accordingly will see intervention as punishment for competence, while those who struggle see it as a rescue. Neither outcome sits easily with a championship that sells itself on meritocracy and technical freedom.

The FIA may argue that intervention protects the show, but such moves erode trust in the competitive framework itself.

Energy management could steal the show

As mentioned above, and closely related is the risk that energy strategy will overwhelm racecraft.

The introduction of defined concepts such as Boost, Overtake and Recharge is intended to make the new systems legible to teams, drivers and audiences alike.

But legibility cuts both ways.

If races are punctuated by phases where drivers are visibly constrained by energy state rather than tyre condition or traffic, the spectacle risks feeling engineered.

There is a fine line between strategic depth and performance theatre. Cross it, and Formula 1 invites a familiar accusation: that outcomes are being shaped as much by algorithms and thresholds as by speed.

Racing that risks being hard to read

The end of DRS and the move to fully active aerodynamics has been presented as a simplification: fewer gimmicks and more organic racing. In reality, it could introduce a different kind of complexity, one that is harder to follow and harder to explain.

The 2026 cars are shorter and lighter on paper, but they also operate within significantly tighter performance windows. Reduced downforce and aggressive efficiency targets leave less margin for error in set-up. Add active aerodynamics on top of that, and the result is a car whose behaviour can change markedly from one phase of a lap to the next, depending on energy state, aero mode and traffic.

From a racing perspective, it risks making performance swings less intuitive. A car that looks fast on one straight may be compromised on the next. A driver who appears to hesitate may be managing energy rather than defending. An overtake may hinge not on proximity or bravery, but on whether two cars are in compatible aero and deployment states at the same moment.