Formula 1 is a sport of precision, where every millimeter of setup and each fraction of a second in strategy can make the difference between victory and defeat. Behind the glamour and excitement of the paddock, however, lies an intricate web of internal politics, rivalries, and power struggles that can sometimes have as much influence on the outcome of a race as the performance of the car itself. One such moment of internal tension occurred during the 2025 Hungarian Grand Prix, when Lewis Hamilton, Ferrari’s seven-time world champion, found himself at odds not with his rivals but with his own team.
It began with a simple question from Hamilton, one that sent ripples through Ferrari’s briefing room, yet carried the weight of years of experience and frustration. “Do you want two cars or just one?” he asked quietly, without anger but with an unmistakable challenge in his voice. For a brief moment, every engineer, strategist, and team member present understood the gravity of his words. It wasn’t about weather conditions, tire choices, or brake pressures. It was about something much deeper: trust. A trust that, in that very moment, appeared to have been broken.
The days that followed the Hungarian Grand Prix revealed a story that wasn’t fueled by rumors or paddock gossip, but by data, and by the word of Hamilton’s trusted race engineer, Ricardo Adami. Between the final practice session on Friday evening and the beginning of Free Practice 3 on Saturday morning, Hamilton’s Ferrari SF25 was significantly altered—changes that completely undermined the stability he had painstakingly worked to achieve throughout the weekend. And it wasn’t just a slight adjustment; it was a purposeful modification that shifted the balance of the car, making it harder to drive and potentially compromising his race.
The Setup Conflict: Stability vs. Rotation
For Hamilton, the priority was always clear: stability. As one of the most experienced drivers in Formula 1, Hamilton knows better than most that consistency is key, especially on a track like the Hungaroring, known for its tight, flowing corners where every mistake compounds itself, ruining the next corner’s entry and exit. He wanted a car with a planted rear end—one that could handle the constant pressure of the braking zones and provide stability through the long-radius corners of Sector 2. It was a setup approach rooted in confidence, one that would allow him to brake later, enter the corners with precision, and exit with a smooth and controlled application of power.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the Ferrari garage, Charles Leclerc had requested a different setup—a looser rear end, one that provided more rotation and agility in the corners. It was a setup designed for quicker changes of direction, better suited to short-radius corners and qualifying bursts, but at the cost of stability. Both approaches had merit, and under normal circumstances, Ferrari would cater to each driver’s preference, running parallel setups to maximize each driver’s potential. However, 2025 was anything but normal. The internal power dynamics within Ferrari had already begun to shift, and Hungary was the battleground.
The Silent Power Play
The changes made to Hamilton’s SF25 were not accidental, nor were they the result of a miscommunication between his trackside engineers. According to Ferrari’s internal records, the order to alter Hamilton’s setup came from the team’s main performance group, bypassing Hamilton’s engineers and the driver himself. This shift in the setup created an immediate problem for Hamilton: The rear ride height was raised by several millimeters, disrupting the car’s balance and turning a stable rear into an unpredictable one. Furthermore, the differential preload was altered, changing the way torque was delivered to the rear wheels, making the car twitchy and harder to control, particularly as Hamilton began to transition from braking to throttle.
In contrast, Leclerc’s car remained untouched, perfectly aligned with his preferences. This disparity was not just a technical issue; it spoke volumes about the internal dynamics of Ferrari. It was no longer about optimizing performance for both drivers—it was about consolidating behind one direction, one approach. The quiet alteration of Hamilton’s car in favor of Leclerc’s setup raised serious questions about Ferrari’s commitment to supporting their two drivers equally.
The Fallout: A Battle for Trust
For Hamilton, the real betrayal wasn’t the technical issues he faced during the race, but the knowledge that his own team had made a strategic decision to undermine him. He wasn’t just fighting Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, or George Russell for position on the track—he was fighting his own team, and the consequences were profound. The changes to his car not only made it harder to drive, but they also robbed him of the trust he had in Ferrari, the trust that had brought him to Maranello in the first place.
In the world of Formula 1, trust is everything. Without it, a driver’s confidence falters, and that can translate directly into performance. When Hamilton asked, “Do you want two cars or just one?” it was more than just a rhetorical question. It was a coded message, a way of saying, “I see what’s going on, and I’m not going to pretend otherwise.” That moment in the briefing room was a defining one, signaling a fracture in Ferrari’s internal structure that could have far-reaching implications for the rest of the season.
The problem wasn’t just the setup changes—it was the broader implications of those changes. Hamilton was no longer questioning a technical decision or a strategy call. He was questioning whether Ferrari still wanted him to win, or if they were, consciously or unconsciously, prioritizing Leclerc’s development over his own. It was a realization that would weigh heavily on him for the remainder of the season.
The Political Chessboard
Ferrari’s decision to alter Hamilton’s car was not a technical accident—it was a political maneuver. Behind the scenes, Ferrari was divided. One faction favored Leclerc’s setup, which prioritized a more aggressive, rotation-focused approach, while Hamilton’s camp leaned toward a more stable, consistent package. The two approaches had data to support them, but in the high-stakes environment of Formula 1, such decisions often come down to power plays and politics.
The main performance group at Ferrari holds significant influence over the team’s development direction, not just for the current season, but also for future car designs. In Hungary, with the championship battle intensifying, there were whispers that the team was less focused on providing equal opportunity to both drivers and more concerned with consolidating behind one driver’s setup direction. This shift in focus came at a high cost for Hamilton, who was left to navigate a car that was no longer aligned with his preferences, both on and off the track.
The Psychological Cost
The consequences of Ferrari’s actions in Hungary go beyond the loss of points or the technical adjustments to the car. The real damage lies in the psychological toll it took on Hamilton. In a sport where confidence is the bedrock of success, the doubts planted by Ferrari’s internal power struggles can have a long-lasting impact. From here on out, every debrief, every discussion about setup changes, and every negotiation for the rest of the season will be colored by the events of Hungary. Hamilton will now always be aware that his team may not have his best interests at heart, and that knowledge can never be fully erased.
Moreover, the political divide within Ferrari is not just a matter of internal friction—it has far-reaching consequences for their championship campaign. In Formula 1, a divided team is a vulnerable team. Rivals like Red Bull, McLaren, and Mercedes are always watching for signs of weakness, and the tension within Ferrari’s garage was clear for all to see. The lack of unity between Hamilton and Leclerc could be exploited by rival teams, who would be quick to take advantage of any opportunity to divide and conquer.
The Road Ahead
As the 2025 season continues, Ferrari faces a crucial crossroads. Monza, with its high-speed demands and long braking zones, could be a key test of whether Ferrari is willing to prioritize Hamilton’s stability-focused setup or continue to push in favor of Leclerc’s more rotation-focused approach. Meanwhile, races like Singapore and Suzuka, which require a car that can handle high-speed transitions and tight cornering, will further highlight the importance of a consistent setup.
The long-term consequences of Hungary extend far beyond the 2025 season. With the 2026 technical regulations looming, the choices Ferrari makes in the coming months will shape the design philosophy of their next-generation car. If the team continues to favor one driver’s preferences over the other, they risk alienating one of the most accomplished drivers in the history of the sport.
For Hamilton, the question becomes even more personal: Can he adapt to a team that may not always be in his corner? Or will he decide that his final years in Formula 1 will be spent elsewhere, in a car that is tailored to his style, rather than one shaped by the political whims of a divided team?
Conclusion
The 2025 Hungarian Grand Prix was not just a race— it was a turning point. It wasn’t just the timing screens that told the story, but the subtle fractures within Ferrari’s internal structure. Hamilton’s quiet but powerful question—“Do you want two cars or just one?”—was the moment that defined Ferrari’s season, and perhaps their future. As the team moves forward, the choice is clear: Either restore trust and unity between their two drivers or risk tearing apart their championship chances in the process. The stakes are higher than ever, and Ferrari’s internal battle may just determine the future of their season—and their driver lineup.