Mark Webber doesn’t sound remotely nostalgic when he talks about Max Verstappen. This isn’t an ex-Red Bull driver pining for the good old days; it’s a straight read on what Verstappen still does to the competitive temperature of Formula 1 — and why the sport can’t really afford for him to wander off now, just as 2026’s new rules threaten to sand down some of the edge that made him, and F1, so compelling in the first place.
Verstappen’s future has been a persistent background hum through the opening stretch of 2026. Red Bull’s public line is predictable — it would “love” him to stay — but the context matters. Verstappen is contracted until the end of 2028, yet it’s understood there’s a performance-related exit clause in there. When you combine that with a driver who’s made no secret of his dislike for the “battery-dependent” nature of the new regulations, you get the sort of scenario that turns paddock whispers into daily headlines.
Webber, speaking to RacingNews365, framed it less as a contractual chess match and more as a question of what F1 looks like without its most uncompromising reference point.
“Holistically, looking at the whole sport, when you’ve got someone like him, characters like Verstappen are what the sport needs. We need these people,” Webber said. “People switch on the TV because of Max Verstappen… He’s important.
“It’s really important that we keep Max in the sport, because he’s lifting every driver in the field.”
That last part is the key. Verstappen has become more than a multiple champion; he’s become an accelerant. Engineers notice it when rivals start chasing his minimum-correction style. Drivers feel it when they need an extra two tenths in Q3 and the benchmark is a guy who’ll take a car to places it doesn’t quite deserve to go. Teams feel it when race weekends are shaped around a single, brutal truth: if Verstappen’s in range, you’d better be perfect.
In 2026, that psychological pressure matters even more because the cars themselves are changing the nature of the fight. Verstappen has been blunt about what he doesn’t like: the sense that you’re managing the lap to unlock speed, rather than simply driving it. Miami, with its “energy rich” characteristics, offered the first proper glimpse of rule tweaks in action — drivers moving between 250 and 350kW of deployment in different parts of the lap, even though the maximum recharge per lap didn’t change. It was supposed to be a step towards a cleaner, more consistent rhythm.
Verstappen wasn’t buying the sales pitch.
“My car drives a bit better, but what I said before about the regulations is still the same,” he said after the Miami Grand Prix.
Asked if qualifying felt any better in those conditions, he cut to the frustration many drivers have voiced privately: “You still need to go a bit slower in places to go faster. It’s still not how I would like to see it.
“It’s still punishing you. The faster you go through corners, then you go slower on the next straight. So that’s not what it should be about.
“But at least my car is working a bit nicer, so it’s a bit less stressful to drive.”
That’s not a tantrum; it’s a philosophical objection. Verstappen’s entire brand of racing has been built around extracting lap time through commitment — late braking, early throttle, relentless rhythm — and 2026 has introduced a layer where the “best” lap can involve deliberate compromises. It asks the driver to negotiate with the machinery more often. Verstappen’s point is that F1 shouldn’t feel like that.
And yet even with those misgivings, he still dragged Red Bull to its best result of the season so far in Miami with fifth. That’s not the kind of detail that reassures a driver about the direction of a ruleset, but it does underline Webber’s argument: Verstappen’s presence is a competitive forcing function. If he can do *that* while clearly unconvinced, imagine what happens if he ever feels the regulations are truly aligned with what he wants from a racing car again.
It’s also why the comments he made after the 2026 Japanese Grand Prix landed so heavily, when he said he was contemplating leaving F1 after the 2026 season. The sport responded, in its own way: tweaks have followed, and there’s an agreement in place for 2027 to adjust the electric-versus-internal-combustion power ratio. Nobody needs to spell out who that’s for. When a driver of Verstappen’s stature starts questioning whether the “stimulus” is still there, the entire ecosystem pays attention.
Webber did, too — and he was careful with his wording. Yes, he manages Oscar Piastri, so there’s an obvious conflict of interest if Verstappen were to disappear and free up oxygen at the front. But Webber wasn’t pushing that angle. He acknowledged the reality that Verstappen has earned the right to choose his own path.
“If the stimuli are decreasing for him, in conjunction with his experience… then he’s earned the right to make choices,” Webber said. “He’s got an immense trophy cabinet, he’s delivered year in, year out, and that gives him choices.”
The subtext is unavoidable: F1 can tweak deployment maps and argue over power splits, but it can’t legislate for motivation. Drivers like Verstappen don’t hang around out of habit. They stay because the challenge still bites.
For Red Bull, the priority is obvious — keeping Verstappen in the car, and making sure the car is worthy of him. For F1 as a product, Webber’s point lands with uncomfortable clarity. In an era where regulations are trying to balance sustainability, show, and manufacturer politics, the sport still relies on a few rare personalities who refuse to be smoothed into something more agreeable.
Verstappen is one of them. And if the 2026 rulebook doesn’t give him a reason to keep turning up angry and engaged, everyone — from rival drivers to the people selling the spectacle — will feel what Webber is warning about.
