Post 1 Unfinished Business: Singapore 2024–Daniel Riccardo’s last race

This post marks the beginning of a series examining one of the most complex and controversial years in modern Formula One, Daniel Ricciardo’s 2024 season with VCARB.

The aim of this series is not just to revisit results, but to question the narratives that shaped how Ricciardo’s final year in Formula One unfolded. Across the coming blogs, we’ll explore the decisions, the inconsistencies, and the unanswered questions that still linger more than a year later. This is a story about leadership, accountability, and how the sport manages its people and themes that stretch far beyond the racetrack.

The 2024 Singapore Grand Prix was Daniel Ricciardo’s last race. This occurred over a year ago, and many questions remain unanswered.

Why was the timing of the decision to replace him so unclear, different stories emerging from Christian Horner, Peter Bayer, and Dr. Helmut Marko, none aligning with each other? Why did Liam Lawson appear to know before Ricciardo himself? How is it possible that in the most scrutinised sport in the world, such a pivotal moment was handled with such inconsistency?

Why, too, was so much of Ricciardo’s season at VCARB shaped by factors beyond his control, strategy errors, inconsistent car setups, untested and rushed upgrades that often failed to deliver, lingering questions about car reliability, and even moments where the team themselves admitted things didn’t work, but never publicly took responsibility. And what about the chassis? Fans were given very little information, timelines were shifted, and explanations were vague at best. If a chassis change truly altered performance, then why was there no transparency about what really happened, and how much it affected Ricciardo’s ability to compete on equal terms?

And if Ricciardo really was to blame for poor performance, why did Laurent Mekies later claim that the team as a whole had failed him? That single admission cuts through the convenient narrative of “driver underperformance” and raises a deeper question: was Ricciardo made the scapegoat for issues that were, in fact, structural and organisational?

And then there is the resurfacing of the so-called “broken handshake deal” from 2017.

Dr. Helmut Marko chose to bring this up again, painting Ricciardo as the man who broke trust. But what about the other side of that deal? Were promises kept by the team? And why re-introduce this old grievance seven years later, just as questions were mounting about the way Ricciardo’s exit was managed?

Ricciardo’s time at VCARB wasn’t just about lap times; it was about the way memory and narrative are shaped in Formula One. A year later, we are still left wondering: was Daniel Ricciardo given the fair chance he deserved, or was he used to develop the car and mentor his teammate, only to be discarded when they achieved their goal, or was it an old grudge being settled?

What is clear is that Formula One still struggles with how it treats its people. Talent is celebrated when it delivers results, but accountability often vanishes when leadership falters. And in Ricciardo’s case, even when Laurent Mekies acknowledged that the team as a whole had failed him, the weight of blame still rests on Daniel’s shoulders. Until those deeper questions are answered, the legacy of Singapore 2024 will remain unfinished business.

The next article in the Unfinished Business Series will explore The Chassis Question, what was said, what wasn’t, and why so many questions remain unanswered.