F1 and the Power of Collective Cringe within the Fandom

Sometimes things can be awful by design.

I am writing this at precisely 10:00 AM on the 18th of February, 2025. Why am I telling you this? Because, in a few hours, Formula 1 will be holding its F1 75 livery reveal event at the O2 as part of the 75th Anniversary celebrations. And, much like someone forewarning a friend about an impending social disaster, I want to set the scene before the inevitable happens.

The announcement of Jack Whitehall as host, with Take That performing alongside MGH and Kane Brown, has already prompted a significant proportion of the F1 fan base to brace themselves for what can only be described as an Olympic-level display of corporate ‘cringe.’ One imagines the event was conceived in a sterile boardroom, where phrases like ‘brand synergy’ and ‘engaging the younger demographic’ were thrown around with gusto.

Now, it might be better than expected. It might even be good. But as things stand, the sheer contrived nature of it all already has my body involuntarily contorting.

But I propose a theory, one that doesn't require deep psychological excavation but is worth considering nonetheless. What if this phenomenon, this ‘collective cringe,’ is actually by design? Or, at the very least, what if it has unintended yet beneficial consequences?

Now, ‘collective trauma’ is a term usually reserved for events of real consequence, wars, pandemics, economic collapses. So, let’s be clear: I’m not suggesting that watching a deeply awkward live event is on par with historic global tragedies. But I am suggesting that there’s a social, perhaps even tribal, benefit to shared discomfort. A discomfort that imbues values upon F1 via this collective effort.

Consider this: when F1 fans inevitably gather on social media to collectively recoil at the sheer awkwardness of what is about to unfold, just as they did during the Las Vegas driver walk-ons (dear God, those were dreadful), something interesting happens. They turn to each other, nod, and say, “That was terrible, wasn’t it?” And in doing so, they reinforce their bond with one another.

This is not a new idea. In fact, there’s an academic precedent for it. Research into collective experiences, both positive and negative, suggests that enduring an event together, even a profoundly awkward one, strengthens communal identity. A 2018 study explored how shared distress could lead to stronger social cohesion, a kind of psychological glue that binds individuals together. And if this principle applies to larger societal events, why not to the weird, corporate missteps of a sport’s marketing department?

There is, of course, a line. Too much collective cringe, and a sport starts becoming more of a meme than a passion. If the balance tips too far, F1 could risk losing legitimacy, turning itself into something that is laughed at rather than laughed with. But in moderation, this effect might be beneficial. It transforms the act of being an F1 fan from a solitary pursuit into a shared experience of minor endurance.

So, if you and your fellow F1-loving friends find yourselves laughing together at the awkwardness tonight, perhaps this was the intent all along. Perhaps, by suffering through it together, you’re unknowingly deepening your love for the sport. The effort, the cringe, translates to emotional investment.

Or perhaps, more likely, it’s just a bit naff, and we’ll get on with our lives.

Post-Event update: It was cringe as predicted and lots of people are sharing how cringe it was. Thus, it was a success.