Toto Wolff has never had much time for paddock paranoia, and he’s certainly not making an exception for 2026.
As the new power unit era edges closer, Mercedes finds itself at the centre of a familiar kind of noise: rival manufacturers muttering about an “interpretation” that could allow the 16:1 maximum compression ratio to be effectively exceeded once the engine is up to temperature. Mercedes and Red Bull Powertrains/Ford are understood to be the two names most closely linked to the idea, and the topic has already been serious enough to trigger meetings between technical groups and the FIA.
Wolff’s response, delivered with the sort of bluntness you’d expect from a man who’s spent too many winters watching competitors lobby in the margins, was essentially: stop looking for villains and start fixing your own problems.
“Just get your s*** together,” he said, making it clear he has little patience for what he characterised as “secret meetings” and “secret letters” designed to cloud something he considers straightforward.
At the heart of the debate is a detail in how the rules define the compression ratio check. The regulations mandate it’s measured at ambient temperature rather than when the engine is hot. The allegation doing the rounds is that this opens the door to designs that sit comfortably within the measurement method in the garage, then behave differently under real operating conditions on track — with the obvious benefit that a higher compression ratio can mean both more power and better efficiency.
In other words, it’s the kind of grey-area engineering Formula 1 has always rewarded: not a dramatic piece of cheating, but a careful reading of what’s written versus what’s intended. Ross Brawn has already described the rumoured approach as a “clever interpretation of the regulation” rather than something underhand, which is about as close to a paddock shrug as you’ll get from someone who’s seen every flavour of technical trench warfare.
Wolff, for his part, insisted Mercedes’ engagement with the FIA has been open and constructive throughout. He didn’t suggest the governing body has been cornered or outmanoeuvred — quite the opposite. In his version of events, the process has been “very positive”, and the parameters are “very clear” not only in the wording but in the way such checks are standardised beyond F1.
That framing matters, because it undercuts the idea that this is a loophole waiting to be slammed shut. Wolff was effectively saying: the test is the test, everyone knows the test, and if you’ve built something clever within it, that’s the game.
He also made it plain he’s suspicious of the politics that tends to follow these moments. When teams start “trying to invent ways of testing that just don’t exist,” as he put it, it’s rarely about pure technical concern. It’s leverage. It’s narrative. It’s getting the FIA to blink first, or at least to keep an eye on the team you’re most worried about.
Wolff’s interpretation is that some are doing it to manufacture excuses before the season has even properly begun — a familiar move when the competitive order is still foggy and nobody wants to be the first to admit they’re on the back foot.
What’s interesting is that Wolff didn’t pair that aggression with the usual chest-thumping certainty about Mercedes’ own form. If anything, he sounded like someone trying to keep his group grounded after an encouraging start to the year. He admitted he’s “always skeptical about performances” and wary of building up expectations now only to get a nasty reality check in Bahrain or Melbourne.
That’s vintage Wolff: combative when he senses gamesmanship, cautious when it comes to lap-time talk.
Still, he wasn’t pretending Mercedes is miserable. Asked directly about the legality of the power unit — and whether he expects protests — Wolff leaned hard on process and precedent. The Mercedes PU is legal, he said, aligned with how the regulations are written and how the checks are conducted. He added that this view has been reinforced by the FIA, including president Mohammed Ben Sulayem.
“Let’s wait and see,” Wolff said, but he also stressed Mercedes feels “robust” in its position.
Then came the line that will do the rounds in every team hospitality: early indications suggest Mercedes hasn’t built a “turd” of a car. It’s not the sort of technical insight engineers crave, but it’s the kind of human signal the paddock reads instantly — the mood inside Brackley is notably different when a new project is fundamentally healthy.
Wolff made sure not to overreach. There’s still no “reliable data” on the “usual suspects”, he said, a nod to the fact that the true competitive picture only sharpens when everyone is forced into the same weekend routines and the same scrutiny. But Mercedes, at least, believes it has something worth developing rather than something to rescue.
As for the compression ratio flashpoint, it’s already starting to look like a classic early-season pressure test: rivals probing for weakness, teams protecting IP and reputation, and the FIA being asked — once again — to be both referee and philosopher.
Wolff’s message is clear. Mercedes isn’t interested in debating morality or intent. If the rules are written one way and measured one way, then the smart play is to build the best solution you can inside that framework. And if you haven’t, shouting across the paddock isn’t going to make your power unit any quicker.
