Rain fell on Sepang for barely 20 minutes before the formation lap of the Formula 1 Gulf Air Bahrain Grand Prix in Malaysia, and in that time it exposed the single biggest weakness of the 2026 rules. Max Verstappen reported a sudden lack of acceleration. Lewis Hamilton’s Ferrari crawled. Liam Lawson, Gabriel Bortoleto and Valtteri Bottas followed, and the red flag came out. By the time the FIA had written, validated and installed a software patch, roughly 90 minutes had been lost — and eight or nine cars across seven teams had been affected, including both Audis, both Haas, both Cadillacs and one Alpine.
Verstappen went on to win from pole, his first victory since the 2025 Abu Dhabi finale and Red Bull’s first with its own in-house power unit, with Kimi Antonelli second and Hamilton third. Antonelli leads the championship by 84 points. But the questions filling my inbox were not about the result. They were about the engines — and about what comes next.
Why did one wet formation lap break the most advanced engines ever built?
Because it had never happened before. The Bahrain Grand Prix was the first genuinely wet event of the 2026 season, which means the power unit software had never been stress-tested in real race conditions in the rain. The 2026 regulations include a 250kW cap on deployment in wet weather, a safety measure to stop drivers being overwhelmed by electrical torque on a slippery track. That cap had never once been activated in anger.
The FIA’s single-seater director Nikolas Tombazis described it as a perfect storm of Sepang’s sector layout and unusually slow formation-lap speeds, and was candid about the root cause: “We didn’t manage to test the software as extensively as we would have liked because there has been very little wet running this year.” The patch that fixed it simply removed the energy limit constraints in the affected sectors, and took around 20 minutes to produce.
The drivers were less forgiving. Verstappen: “These engines are so complicated and a lot of software is implemented.” Hamilton: “It was like the LEGO race.” Sergio Perez called it “totally unacceptable for the sport”, Lando Norris called the day “horrible”, and George Russell settled on “a bit of a faff”. Carlos Sainz, who is also a GPDA director, went furthest: “F1 needs to have a hard look at themselves and see how we ended up in this situation. It is clear the regs are extremely complicated… clearly what was decided four or five years ago is wrong.”
Is the V8 actually happening — and why keep a turbo?
Yes, in all likelihood. The FIA and the manufacturers have reached broad agreement on the main elements of the next power unit rules, and the shape of them is now clear:
- A 3.0-litre turbocharged V8 running on 100% sustainable fuel
- Hybrid deployment cut to around 100kW, down from the 350kW of the 2026 cars
- A package at least 50kg lighter than the current units
- Target introduction of 2030, with the rules finalised before the end of this year
Discussions have moved towards twin turbos rather than a single larger unit, on the grounds that two smaller chargers give sharper response and less lag — letting drivers spend more time at full throttle instead of managing electrical energy. Audi is said to back the twin-turbo concept, and Mattia Binotto has been unambiguous: “We know for sure that it will be a V8. 2030 is the earliest possible date for its introduction.”
The reason the turbo survives at all is noise. A naturally aspirated V8 would be gloriously loud, and that is a problem at street circuits such as Melbourne, Singapore and Las Vegas, where strict noise limits apply. A smaller turbo lets F1 be considerably louder than it is now without losing races in cities. FIA president Mohammed Ben Sulayem has framed the trade-off plainly: “You get the sound, less complexity, lightweight,” with “a very, very minor electrification”. On timing: “I’m targeting 2030… It will happen.”
What Sepang means for 2030
F1 has not raced a V8 since 2013, and the V6 turbo hybrids that replaced them were defensible on their own terms: they were extraordinary engineering, and they sold road-car relevance to manufacturers. The 2026 rules pushed that logic to its limit with a near 50-50 split between combustion and electrical power. Sepang was the bill arriving.
Sainz’s verdict — “with a naturally aspirated V8 engine, this would never have happened” — is the argument the simplifiers will now make in every meeting. Red Bull boss Laurent Mekies put it more diplomatically, saying the incident is a reminder to ensure complexity “doesn’t get out of hand”. Verstappen, whose current contract runs to the end of 2030, has already said the V8 prospect “opens up the door” to him staying.
Oscar Piastri was right to urge restraint before the facts were known — this was a software edge case, not a design flaw. But the political effect is the same. A wet 20 minutes in Malaysia has made the case for lighter, louder, simpler cars more forcefully than four years of lobbying ever did.













