And just like that—poof—Christian Horner’s 20-year tenure as Red Bull’s head honcho comes to a screeching halt. A man who once turned a soft drink company’s whimsical F1 experiment into a juggernaut of tyre-screeching dominance has now found himself wheeled off the grid and parked indefinitely.
Officially, it’s down to “declining form” and “internal disputes”—phrases that in Formula 1 are usually code for someone threw a laptop, or worse, sent a strongly worded email in Calibri.
Unofficially? Well, it’s been less Monaco yacht party and more HR tribunal meets Shakespearean intrigue. Accusations of controlling behaviour and “unwanted attention” cast a long shadow over the paddock, though Horner was twice cleared—once by a lawyer, and then again, just to be sure. Still, perception often finishes the race before facts have left the pit lane.
Red Bull GmbH offered the usual parting pleasantries: thanks, gratitude, the odd corporate platitude—all delivered with the warmth of a gearbox at sub-zero. One imagines Horner received a complimentary can of the stuff on his way out.
Taking the wheel now is Laurent Mekies, formerly of Ferrari and most recently the sensible grown-up in charge of Racing Bulls (yes, that’s their actual name). He now inherits a garage full of questions, a slightly anxious Max Verstappen, and what’s left of Horner’s empty office mini-fridge.
Verstappen, loyal in press release if not in spirit, posted a goodbye note that read more like a hostage letter: respectful, grateful, but not entirely convincing. The Dutchman has only two wins this season—a disaster by his standards—and is allegedly eyeing the exit like someone who’s just noticed their seat has caught fire.
Add to that the departure of Adrian Newey, F1’s Gandalf of aerodynamics, who quietly packed up his wizardry last year, citing politics, power grabs, and an allergic reaction to Horner’s media briefings. Jonathan Wheatley and Will Courtenay have also legged it—one to Sauber, the other to McLaren—suggesting the Red Bull staff directory may soon be printed on a Post-it note.
As for Horner, he insists he’s been unfairly crucified, exonerated, and now cancelled—all within the space of a season. His parting Instagram post declared he “will not go quietly,” which in motorsport is usually a sign that someone is about to launch a podcast.
So what next for Red Bull? Can Mekies steady the ship? Will Verstappen commit? And can anyone find the missing pieces of the once-invincible machine Horner built before it became a case study in corporate entropy?
Answers may follow, possibly in several anonymous briefings, a leaked internal memo, and a new biography suspiciously timed for the Christmas market.
Until then, Formula 1 marches on—less like a well-oiled machine and more like a slightly drunk conga line in designer fireproof suits.
About The Author
