A devastating crash in 2014 in Japan proved fatal for the talented Jules Bianchi. Today marks exactly ten years since the Frenchman passed away in a hospital in Nice, at the age of 25. The memory of the accident remains a scar on the soul for everyone who was there.
For those who don’t remember, Jules Bianchi’s accident was a textbook example of Murphy’s Law. Misfortune at its worst. The combination of bad weather, falling darkness, aquaplaning, a massive crane truck next to the track, and a driver who failed to slow down sufficiently for the yellow flags resulted in a fatal outcome.
I was there myself. I remember typing a lengthy report about the crash with a knot in my stomach, and how great the shock was in the paddock. The outcome was uncertain at that time, but everyone was bracing for the worst. Drivers sometimes consider themselves immortal, even knowing that no car is as safe as an F1 car, but no one can stand against fate.
The first fatal accident in Formula 1 since Ayrton Senna in 1994 also affected me personally. I had spoken to Jules Bianchi, then in my role as a reporter for De Telegraaf, more than once. What struck me was that I found him more likable as a rookie in Formula 1 than in the previous years in GP2, the current Formula 2. He seemed more relaxed. He did not hide his ambitions to move up, but he did so in a realistic, almost modest tone.
Onerous Position
Rightly so. At the backmarker team of Marussia, he found himself in an onerous position, because – to put it bluntly – his equipment was subpar. There was only one car that was just as bad: the Caterham of Giedo van der Garde. Yet Bianchi regularly demonstrated his talent and was highly regarded in the paddock. He seemed destined for a successful career.
In the years prior, I must confess that I had developed a certain antipathy towards him, mainly because he was being excessively promoted as a Frenchman. Bianchi was destined for Formula 1. His manager was Nicolas Todt, the son of the then FIA president Jean Todt. I remember Van der Garde being summoned by the latter in 2011 after a critical column about Bianchi due to the numerous confrontations the two had on the track. The Todt family did not appreciate this, as was made abundantly clear to Van der Garde.
I had a general issue with the French lobby in motorsport. In 2010, Ho-Pin Tung had to give up his GP2 seat at the DAMS team during the season to Romain Grosjean. The car was not performing well with Tung behind the wheel, but with Grosjean, it suddenly started to excel. A Frenchman in a French team in a French class (with Renault as the engine supplier), it all seemed too transparent.
Heartbreaking
Grosjean made his F1 debut for Lotus in 2012, Jules Bianchi a year later with Marussia. Grosjean quickly became known as a crash-prone driver, even being suspended from a race after causing a bizarre start crash at Spa (2012). You can watch the footage on YouTube, it’s worth it. Grosjean narrowly escaped death in 2020 in Bahrain when his car split in two and instantly caught fire after a crash. Miraculously, he walked away alive. The burns on his hands remind him every day of the fortune he had.
Unfortunately, Bianchi was not so lucky. He fought for months in a hospital in Nice against death. Eventually, he had to admit defeat. The grief of his family was heartbreaking to witness, and the entire Formula 1 world mourned with them.
Every year, Jules Bianchi is commemorated, including with flowers at the scene of the accident. Whenever I see this, I have to swallow hard, I think back to that dark day in Suzuka and realize that Formula 1 can sometimes be a cruel sport.
