The FIA is pushing hard to stop Formula 1’s first big 2026 rules fight from spilling into the season opener, with single-seater director Nikolas Tombazis saying the target is a resolution before Melbourne.
At the centre of the row is the new power unit rulebook and, specifically, compression ratio. The regulations set a 16:1 limit measured in cold, static conditions — a line that’s now become the battleground. Over the winter, talk in the paddock has suggested two manufacturers found a way to make that number effectively higher once the engine is up to temperature and running, prompting complaints from rivals who believe the intent of the rule is being bypassed.
Mercedes has been repeatedly linked to the interpretation in question. Red Bull Powertrains Ford was also widely named early on, but subsequent reporting has suggested Red Bull has aligned with those urging the FIA to clamp down — a detail that only sharpens the political edge here, given how quickly “clever engineering” can turn into “someone’s got away with one”.
That sense of isolation was underlined publicly by Cadillac F1 CEO Dan Towriss, who said there were “unanimous views outside of Mercedes” about what action should be taken. Towriss’ intervention matters not just because Cadillac is a name with clout, but because it’s also part of the wider 2026 manufacturer story: the FIA has spent years selling these regulations as a platform that attracts fresh investment. If the first narrative out of the gate is that the established giants can lawyer their way to a head start, it risks souring the very pitch.
Tombazis, speaking in an FIA video alongside single-seater technical director Jan Monchaux, was unusually candid about why compression ratio became such a carefully managed parameter in the first place. The FIA’s view is straightforward: lowering it was part of the “welcome package” to help new entrants compete, reducing complexity and cost in an era where catching up is harder than ever under development limits and a cost cap.
That’s why the sport moved from what was previously an 18:1 limit — which Tombazis effectively described as a ceiling few could reach anyway — down to 16:1, a figure intended as a meaningful constraint rather than a theoretical one.
In plain terms, higher compression generally brings better efficiency, but it comes with trade-offs and engineering difficulty. And, as Tombazis acknowledged, engineers are paid to live in the margins. The controversy now is that the regulation defines the limit in a “cold, static” test condition, while there may be ways to increase the effective ratio once everything is hot and operating — a situation that neatly illustrates the gap between how a rule is written and how a modern F1 power unit behaves in the real world.
The FIA’s messaging is clear: it doesn’t want this decided by protests, stewards’ clarifications, or a slow-motion legal brawl. Tombazis said the goal is to settle it for the start of the season, framing it as a matter of protecting the championship from becoming a contest of interpretation rather than performance.
The backdrop, of course, is that 2026 is supposed to be a clean break. The new power units bring a 50/50 split between biofuel and electric power, with a reshaped competitive landscape that includes Audi and Red Bull Powertrains Ford joining Mercedes, Ferrari and Honda — with Honda returning to the grid under the new rules and partnering Aston Martin. General Motors is also on the way as a manufacturer presence via Cadillac’s project. That is exactly the kind of breadth the FIA has craved. It’s also exactly why it can’t afford a reputational mess before the first set of lights goes out.
What’s striking in Tombazis’ explanation is how openly he accepts that these disputes are, to a point, inevitable when the rulebook is rewritten. He described it as a “numbers game”: thousands of engineers across 11 teams and five power unit manufacturers pulling at the same fabric, and eventually someone finds a loose thread that nobody else noticed. The more radical the regulations, the more loose threads there are.
But inevitability isn’t the same as acceptance — and Tombazis drew that line firmly. The FIA’s ambition, he said, is a championship decided by the best drivers and engineers, not by the “smarter rule interpreter”. That’s a subtle but important distinction: the governing body isn’t trying to stamp out innovation, it’s trying to stop the early phase of 2026 becoming a precedent-setting free-for-all where teams spend the first months weaponising the stewards’ room.
The urgency also speaks to a broader concern the FIA clearly shares: even if the compression ratio question is resolved, something else will likely flare up. That’s not pessimism, it’s simply the reality of a major rules reset. The trick is to keep the sport in a place where those flare-ups are handled quickly and cleanly, before they distort competition — and before they snowball into public standoffs between manufacturers.
For now, the governing body is trying to get ahead of the story. If it succeeds, Melbourne becomes what it should be: the first proper read on who built the best 2026 package. If it doesn’t, the new era risks starting with a footnote, not a statement.
