The Silence is Broken
For years, the second seat at Red Bull Racing has been viewed as the most coveted yet cursed position in Formula 1. It is a role that has chewed up and spit out incredible talents, leaving a trail of shattered confidence in its wake. But now, one of its most resilient occupants, Sergio “Checo” Perez, has returned to the grid with a vengeance—and he is no longer contractually bound to silence.
In a series of bombshell revelations that are sending shockwaves through the paddock, Perez has pulled back the curtain on the inner workings of the Milton Keynes-based outfit. His account paints a disturbing picture of a team so singularly obsessed with its golden boy, Max Verstappen, that it allegedly engaged in active sabotage, psychological warfare, and the ruthless commodification of its driving talent. As Perez prepares for his new chapter with Cadillac, he is leaving scorched earth behind at Red Bull, exposing a toxic culture that many have suspected but few have dared to articulate with such precision.
The “Magic Floor” and Allegations of Sabotage
Perhaps the most damaging accusation Perez levels against his former team concerns the 2024 season and specifically the Azerbaijan Grand Prix. Baku has always been a fortress for Perez; his driving style, which favors rear-limited circuits and 90-degree corners, perfectly suits the track. But according to Perez, his speed that weekend wasn’t just down to affinity—it was down to equipment that he was rarely allowed to keep.
Perez reveals that for Baku, the team fitted his car with a modified floor. The result? He claims he was instantly “a second faster than everyone.” The data seemed to back him up; he out-qualified Verstappen and was on course for a potential victory or at least a dominant podium before the catastrophic late-race collision with Carlos Sainz.
“I wrecked the car and I never touched that floor again,” Perez stated, dropping a heavy implication that the removal of the part was not a supply issue, but a strategic choice by the team. He believes that had he been allowed to run that specification for the remainder of the season, he would have been a consistent threat to Verstappen—a scenario he suggests Red Bull was desperate to avoid.
“What would have happened if I had that car for the rest of the year? Who knows,” Perez questioned. The insinuation is clear: Red Bull didn’t just fail to support him; they actively clipped his wings to ensure Verstappen’s championship lead remained unthreatened by internal competition. In a sport where milliseconds define careers, the withholding of a performance part that offers a “second” of lap time is not just negligence; it is a fundamental betrayal of the sporting code.
The “Angel and Devil” of Max Verstappen
Perez’s exposé doesn’t stop at the technical department; he takes aim directly at the character of Max Verstappen. While he acknowledges the Dutchman’s undeniable talent and mental fortitude, praising him as a “huge force” and a “great leader,” he also describes a darker, more fragile side to the champion.
Perez describes Verstappen as having a split personality—an “angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other.” When things are going well, the angel reigns. But when the tide turns, Perez claims Verstappen struggles to cope, citing the 2024 Barcelona Grand Prix as a prime example where Max “froze up” after an incident.
This “Devil” was most visible during the infamous 2022 Brazilian Grand Prix, where Verstappen refused to let Perez pass to help him secure second in the championship. Perez confirms what many suspected: the grudge stemmed from the 2022 Monaco Grand Prix, where Verstappen believed Perez crashed deliberately in qualifying to secure track position. “He was carrying something in him… he never let it out,” Perez recounted. The team had assumed the issue was buried, only for it to explode in Brazil.
Perez describes a transformation that occurs when Verstappen puts his helmet on: “Something happens when he’s up there in the car… he transforms, he’s another person.” This characterization of Verstappen—as a driver who cannot separate personal vendettas from professional obligations—challenges the narrative of the icy, unemotional winning machine. It suggests a volatility that Red Bull has had to manage carefully, often by sacrificing the stability of the other side of the garage.
The “Toxic” Environment: Where Success is a Problem
The most chilling aspect of Perez’s testimony is his description of the daily atmosphere within Red Bull Racing. We often hear about “one-team” mentalities, but Perez describes an environment where his own success was viewed as an inconvenience.
“At Red Bull, everything was a problem,” Perez said. “If I was faster, it was a problem.”
This is a stunning admission. In a logical racing team, a fast second driver is a strategic asset. At Red Bull, Perez implies, it was a political headache. If Checo was outpacing Max, it raised awkward questions: Was the car actually better than Max was making it look? Was the “Golden Boy” underperforming? To avoid these ripples, the status quo had to be maintained.
Conversely, when Perez was slower, the pressure became unbearable. He describes a “tense environment” where he was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t. He claims that Christian Horner made the hierarchy clear from their very first meeting: “We are going to race with two cars, but only because we have to.”
This comment, effectively telling a driver he is a regulatory necessity rather than a valued competitor, sets a tone of disposability that permeates the entire organization. It confirms the long-held fan theory that Red Bull is not a two-car team, but a one-car team with a support vehicle.
The Disposable Heroes: Lawson, Tsunoda, and the Meat Grinder
Perez also shared a disturbing conversation with Team Principal Christian Horner regarding the future of the team’s junior drivers. When Perez asked what would happen if things didn’t work out with replacement Liam Lawson, Horner allegedly replied, “There was Yuki.” When asked what if Yuki failed, Horner simply stated, “We have a lot of drivers.”
“I told him he was going to use all of them, and he said ‘Yes, I know,’” Perez recalled.
This exchange reveals a callous approach to driver management. The Red Bull Junior Team, once celebrated for finding Sebastian Vettel and Max Verstappen, is now depicted by Perez as a meat grinder. Drivers are not developed; they are consumed. They are thrown into the “worst job in Formula 1″—being Max Verstappen’s teammate—and when they inevitably struggle against the singular focus of the team on car #1, they are discarded for the next warm body.
It frames the struggles of Pierre Gasly, Alex Albon, and now Perez himself in a new light. It wasn’t just that they couldn’t drive the car; it was that the car, the strategy, and the emotional support systems were never designed for them. As Perez noted, “Being matched to his teammate at Red Bull is the worst job there is in Formula 1.”
The Technical Bias: Developing Away from the Second Driver
Perez provided technical context to his struggles, particularly regarding the car’s development path. He claims that in 2022, he was faster than Verstappen in the simulator and on track early in the season when the car was “heavy” and had a stable rear end—traits that suit his driving style.
However, as the team brought upgrades to shed weight, the car naturally became “pointy” and loose at the rear—characteristics that Verstappen thrives on but Perez struggles with. Perez asserts that “the upgrades are in Verstappen’s direction.”
While he acknowledges that a lighter car is faster and thus the development was logical, he highlights the lack of effort to make that faster car drivable for him. Instead of finding a balance, the team pushed the development into a window where only Verstappen could operate, leaving Perez to “think about not crashing” rather than racing. This conscious decision to narrow the car’s operating window to suit one driver effectively rendered the second car uncompetitive, a sacrifice Red Bull was seemingly happy to make as long as Max was winning.
A New Beginning with Cadillac
As the 2026 season approaches, the paddock is buzzing not just with the drama of the past, but the potential of the future. Perez is back, seemingly revitalized by his move to the new Cadillac entry. He mentions testing the new machinery and realizing, “Damn, I’m hitting good times with this car.”
It is a moment of vindication. It proves to him, and he hopes to the world, that his slump in form was circumstantial, not terminal. He was “getting costed” by Red Bull, held back by a system designed to suppress him.
Perez’s return is not just about racing; it’s about reputation. It is a fight to prove that he is still the “Minister of Defence,” the tire whisperer, and the race winner he was before he stepped into the Red Bull pressure cooker.
Conclusion: The Legacy of the Second Seat
Sergio Perez’s revelations leave a stain on Red Bull’s dominance. They suggest that the team’s incredible success with Max Verstappen has come at a significant human and sporting cost. If true, the allegations of withholding parts and treating drivers as disposable assets speak to a ruthless Machiavellian culture that prioritizes the individual glory of one driver over the collective health of the team.
For Red Bull, these comments will be dismissed as sour grapes from a driver who couldn’t make the cut. But for the fans, and for the drivers currently waiting in the Red Bull wings, they serve as a stark warning. The second seat is not an opportunity; it is a trap. And as Perez has shown, escaping it might be the only way to save your career.
As the engines fire up for the new season, all eyes will be on two things: the speed of the new Cadillac, and the response from a Red Bull team that has been stripped naked by the man they thought they had silenced. The drama of Formula 1 is back, and thanks to Checo, it’s louder than ever.