In the high-octane world of Formula 1, few names split a room quite like Max Verstappen. Mention him in the same breath as legends like Schumacher, Senna, or Hamilton, and you’ll instantly trigger a civil war in the comments section. Half the fans will applaud his brilliance, while the other half will furiously type out the most common critique in modern motorsport: “It’s just the car.”
It’s a comfortable argument for detractors. It simplifies the complex engineering warfare of F1 into a narrative that strips the driver of agency. But as we look back at the trajectory of Verstappen’s career—from his explosive debut to the nail-biting conclusion of the 2025 season—that argument is becoming increasingly impossible to defend with a straight face. When we strip away the nostalgia and the “vibes” and look strictly at the evidence, a different picture emerges. Max Verstappen isn’t just winning because of his machinery; he is rewriting the standard for what winning looks like.
The “Teammate Control Group” Test
Formula 1 is arguably two championships running in parallel: one for the engineers building the weapon, and one for the drivers firing it. Separating the two is difficult, but not impossible. The closest thing we have to a scientific control group is the teammate—the driver with the same factory, the same engineers, the same chassis, and the same data.
If the Red Bull car were truly doing all the heavy lifting, the second driver should be a carbon copy of the first. Yet, throughout the Verstappen era, the second Red Bull seat has become something of a ghost story. Talented drivers arrive with reputations intact, only to have the stopwatch dismantle their confidence week after week.
The gap between Max and his teammates isn’t just about lap time; it looks structural. It’s as if the car is a complex language that Max speaks fluently while his partners are still translating word-for-word. Critics argue the team is “built around him,” but this logic fails under scrutiny. Teams don’t prioritize a driver out of emotional loyalty; they prioritize the driver who the data screams is their best bet for victory. If the car was a cheat code, the second driver would still be terrifying. Instead, they are often vulnerable, leaving Max to fight rival teams alone. That isn’t the mark of a “car merchant”; that is the mark of a driver extracting performance that simply isn’t there for anyone else.
The Absurdity of Consistency
We can look back at 2023 as the season of pure, unadulterated dominance. Verstappen won 86.35% of the races. He strung together 10 consecutive wins, breaking Sebastian Vettel’s record. In a sport where a single slow pit stop, a safety car, or a wrong tire call can ruin a weekend, maintaining that streak requires more than just speed—it requires a frightening level of operational precision.
But the true test of greatness isn’t what a driver does when the car is perfect; it’s what they do when it isn’t. This brings us to the recently concluded 2025 season.
Why 2025 Was Max’s “Greatest” Loss
The 2025 season will go down in history for Lando Norris’s triumph, edging out Verstappen by a razor-thin margin of two points. But ironically, this “loss” might be the strongest argument for Verstappen’s genius.
In a year where the competitive landscape shifted and Red Bull was no longer the undisputed king, Verstappen didn’t fade into the midfield. He dragged the title fight to the very last breath in Abu Dhabi. He secured eight Grand Prix wins in a season where he finished as the runner-up. That is not a normal statistic. Winning eight times in a “losing” car speaks to an ability to convert tiny advantages into maximum points and to limit damage when the package is lacking.
Max’s driving style has evolved into a form of psychological warfare. He doesn’t just pass opponents; he breaks their strategic plans. He forces rivals to react to him rather than race their own race. We saw this with Schumacher, we saw it with Hamilton in his prime, and we are seeing it now. The grid races the idea of Max Verstappen as much as they race his Red Bull.
The Verdict: Inner Circle of Greatness
As of the end of the 2025 season, Max Verstappen sits at 71 career race wins. That number places him firmly in the inner circle of all-time greats. Importantly, he is achieving this while still in the middle of his career arc.
The data—spanning dominant streaks, teammate destruction, and the resilience shown in the 2025 title fight—points to one conclusion. The idea that Max is merely a passenger in a rocket ship is factually bankrupt. Passengers don’t win 10 races in a row. Passengers don’t turn a non-championship year into an eight-win season decided by a single position on track.
So, here is the uncomfortable question for the critics: If you put every driver on the current grid in the exact same car for a full season—through rain, heat, decaying tires, and high pressure—how many do you genuinely believe would beat Max Verstappen?
If you are honest, that list is very, very short. And that answer tells you everything you need to know. Max isn’t just lucky to be in a Red Bull; Red Bull is incredibly lucky to have Max.