Liam Lawson’s had enough of the insinuations.
The Racing Bulls driver has pushed back firmly on Zak Brown’s claim that the team’s Miami radio call — instructing Lawson to hand a place to Max Verstappen after their Turn 11 contact — was evidence of “collusion” between Red Bull’s two outfits. Lawson’s version is far less conspiratorial and, frankly, more believable in the heat of a modern F1 pitwall: they thought he’d been the one to blame, panicked about a penalty, and made the wrong call.
Nothing more. And, he insists, nothing that will be repeated.
The flashpoint came during the Miami Grand Prix when Lawson and Verstappen fought over position and made contact at Turn 11, both running off the track in the process. Lawson emerged ahead on the road, but was quickly told by his engineer Alexandre Iliopoulos: “Give the position back to Max. We need to give the position back to Max. Do it as soon as possible.”
Lawson’s reply — “Drove into the side of me. I don’t understand.” — captured what plenty in the paddock were thinking as they heard it live. Even so, he lifted and let Verstappen through.
At the time, Lawson kept it simple: he didn’t believe he’d done anything wrong, but he complied because it was an instruction. That should’ve been the end of it. Instead, the moment became political ammunition.
Brown referenced the Miami incident in a letter to the FIA as part of his broader argument against “A and B team” ownership models in Formula 1. It’s not the first time Brown has taken aim at the Red Bull structure, and he reportedly also pointed to an older example from Singapore 2024, when Daniel Ricciardo took a late fastest lap point away from Lando Norris during Norris’ title fight with Verstappen.
In Brown’s words, the sport needs to “eliminate any further alliances” created through ownership or “equivalent” influence, and begin “unwinding” those already in place to protect F1’s integrity.
That kind of language has a way of following drivers around, and Lawson was asked about it again on Thursday ahead of the Canadian Grand Prix. His answer didn’t leave much room for interpretation.
“We’re doing everything by the rules,” Lawson said. “That’s the most important thing. We’re not breaking any rules with anything like that.
“And the way that incident was reviewed, if it had been any other car, it would have been the exact same decision. So it was simply that we made a mistake.”
This is where the mechanics of the pitwall matter. People love to treat team orders as neat, deliberate plays, but the reality is a frantic flowchart built on partial information. Teams are constantly trying to stay ahead of the stewards — pre-empting penalties, covering off perceived infringements, and gambling that giving a position back quickly will close the matter before it escalates.
Lawson says Racing Bulls made exactly that kind of snap judgement in Miami, only they backed the wrong horse.
“Yeah, we made a mistake,” he said. “Yeah, we shouldn’t have done that, because the move was actually Max’s fault.
“When reviewing it, I think the way it was reviewed from the team… we didn’t look at it properly.
“But you have such a short amount of time to make a decision, and that’s why you can get it wrong, and I think we did.”
The subtext, whether Lawson intended it or not, is that the call was rooted in caution rather than obedience. Racing Bulls didn’t “help Red Bull”; they tried to protect themselves. In that sense, it’s almost more embarrassing than controversial — the sort of error that happens when you’re trying to be too clever in the moment and end up costing your driver track position for no reason.
Lawson also made it clear the team has learned from it. “But it was definitely something where, if we faced it again, we wouldn’t make the same decision,” he said.
Whether that reassurance calms the wider debate is another matter. Brown’s letter goes to a bigger question about perception as much as regulation: even if the two Red Bull-owned teams operate within the rules, any call that looks like deference will be seized upon, especially when it directly benefits Verstappen. And the Miami radio message was always going to look messy — not because Lawson didn’t argue his case, but because he ultimately complied.
For Lawson personally, though, there’s a more immediate point. He’s trying to establish himself as his own driver, not a subsidiary component in someone else’s championship machine. Publicly rejecting the collusion narrative isn’t just about defending Racing Bulls; it’s about drawing a line around his own credibility in the marketplace.
Miami, he says, was a mistake. In Montreal, he’ll want his next big moment to be something he can keep — not something he’s told to hand back.
