In the high-octane world of Formula 1, few jobs are as coveted—or as cursed—as the second seat at Red Bull Racing. It is a position that promises podiums and victories, yet historically, it has delivered heartbreak and career stagnation for some of the sport’s brightest talents. For years, fans and pundits have speculated on what exactly makes partnering with Max Verstappen so impossibly difficult. Is it the car’s setup? The team’s favoritism? Or simply the crushing weight of comparing oneself to a generational talent?
Now, on the cusp of a revolutionary 2026 season, the four-time World Champion has finally broken his silence. In a candid revelation that has sent ripples through the paddock, Verstappen has outlined exactly what he demands from the driver on the other side of the garage. And surprisingly, raw speed isn’t at the top of the list.
The Graveyard of Ambition
To understand the weight of Verstappen’s recent comments, we must first look at the wreckage of the past. The list of drivers who have tried and failed to tame the Red Bull alongside the Dutchman reads like a “who’s who” of wasted potential.
It began with Pierre Gasly in 2019, who lasted only half a season before the pressure cracked his confidence, leading to a demotion back to Toro Rosso. Then came Alex Albon, a driver of immense skill who managed to survive until the end of 2020, but whose inability to consistently match Verstappen’s blistering pace eventually sealed his fate.
Perhaps the most tragic chapter was written by Sergio “Checo” Perez. The Mexican veteran brought stability and experience, securing five Grand Prix wins and surviving four full seasons—the longest tenure of any recent teammate. Yet, even Checo could not escape the inevitable gravity of Verstappen’s dominance. A catastrophic collapse in form throughout 2024, followed by an early exit, proved that experience alone is not a shield.
The carnage continued with ruthless efficiency. Liam Lawson was given a mere two races to prove his worth before being unceremoniously sent back to Racing Bulls. Even Yuki Tsunoda, a Honda protégé with undeniable raw speed, was sidelined to a test and reserve role. The message from Milton Keynes has always been implicit but clear: sink or swim.
The Verstappen Standard: Transparency Over Friendship
So, what does it take to stop the revolving door? Verstappen’s answer is characteristically blunt, practical, and devoid of sentimentality.
“Good and also developing the car with the team,” Verstappen stated when asked about his ideal teammate. “Good understanding between the drivers… friendly, funny, open-minded, not hiding things throughout the weekend.”
The key phrase here—”not hiding things”—reveals a fundamental truth about the internal workings of a top-tier F1 team. In an era where data is king, hoarding secrets is an act of sabotage. Verstappen isn’t looking for a rival who tries to get a leg up by withholding setup data or braking points. He is looking for a collaborator who understands that the only way to beat the competition is to elevate the entire team.
For a team like Red Bull, which relies on two cars to gather data on tire degradation, aerodynamic balance, and fuel loads, a secretive teammate is a liability. Verstappen’s dominance allows him to be pragmatic; he doesn’t fear a teammate seeing his data because he is confident he can execute better. But he cannot tolerate a teammate who slows down the engineering feedback loop.
Crucially, Verstappen drew a sharp line between professional respect and personal friendship. “If you are good friends off track, that’s a nice bonus but not necessarily needed,” he explained. “As long as you are very professional on track and it benefits the team.”
This is a departure from the romanticized view of F1 “bromances.” Verstappen doesn’t need a dinner companion; he needs a colleague who shows up prepared, shares information freely, and works toward the collective goal of the Constructors’ Championship. It is a mindset of pure efficiency, separating the personal from the professional in a way few athletes can master.
The New Challenger: Isack Hadjar
Enter Isack Hadjar. The young Frenchman is the latest brave soul to step into the cauldron for the 2026 season. Fresh off an impressive rookie stint with Racing Bulls, Hadjar has earned his promotion. But unlike his predecessors, who often arrived with bold claims of challenging for the title, Hadjar is adopting a radically different psychological strategy.
“The goal is to accept that I’m going to be slower the first month,” Hadjar frankly told the media in Abu Dhabi. “I think that if you go into that mindset, you accept already that it’s going to be very tough looking at the data and seeing things you can’t achieve yet.”
This admission is not a lack of ambition; it is a survival mechanism. Previous teammates were destroyed because they expected to match Verstappen immediately, and when they couldn’t, they spiraled. By inoculating himself against the shock of the performance gap, Hadjar is buying himself mental space to learn. He is expecting the frustration, accepting the initial defeat, and planning to work through it methodically.
It is a humble, mature approach that aligns perfectly with Verstappen’s demand for an “open-minded” teammate. Hadjar isn’t trying to hide his deficits; he is acknowledging them as the starting point for his growth.
The Great Reset of 2026
If there was ever a time for a rookie to survive alongside Max Verstappen, 2026 might be it. The sport is undergoing its most comprehensive regulatory overhaul in years, essentially resetting the playing field.
The new regulations introduce smaller, lighter cars with active aerodynamics, eliminating the traditional DRS system. Power units will now feature a 50/50 split between electrical and internal combustion power, running on fully sustainable biofuels. Pirelli tires will be narrower, changing the mechanical grip profile of the cars completely.
For Red Bull, the stakes are even higher. 2026 marks the debut of the Red Bull Ford powertrains—a bold gamble to become an independent engine manufacturer. This introduces a massive variable. As Verstappen’s manager Raymond Vermeulen noted, “What’s the reference for next year? Nobody knows.”
This uncertainty is Hadjar’s greatest ally. Verstappen, despite his brilliance, will also be learning a new car and a new engine. The gap in experience, while still vast, is slightly neutralized by the fact that everyone is starting from zero with the new machinery.
Verstappen himself is entering 2026 with a chip on his shoulder. Having missed the 2025 World Championship by a heartbreaking two points—ending his streak of consecutive titles—he is hungry for redemption. He needs a teammate who can score points, help develop the new Ford engine, and not cause internal friction.
Conclusion
The “second seat” at Red Bull has been a career-killer for half a decade. But as the sport heads into a new era, the dynamics are shifting. Max Verstappen has laid his cards on the table: he demands transparency, professionalism, and a contribution to the team’s technical progress. He doesn’t need a best friend; he needs a reliable partner.
Isack Hadjar seems to have heard the message. By dropping the ego and accepting the learning curve, he might just have the right psychological armor to survive where Gasly, Albon, and Perez could not. The 2026 season promises to be a fascinating case study in human psychology and technical adaptability. If Hadjar can keep his head down, share his data, and survive the initial storm, he might just prove that the “impossible job” is possible after all.