Ah, the W Series. Or, as it has become known in th🦂e F1 paddock, the chickဣ championship…

The much-celebrated launch of a racing series aimed at getting women into the top tiers of single-seater motorsport is a difficult one. On the one hand, any efforts aimed at broadenℱing access to motorsport should be celebrated - funding and opportunity aren🔴’t easy to come by, and every little helps.

On the other hand, however, segꦛregation is not and has never been a good thing.

What makes motor-racing stand out among sports is the fact that men and women can compete on an equal playing field. Both genders come with their own advantages and disadvantages, but in a s🗹port where the equipment also plays a starring role, the physical differences between the sexes become less important.

Women have꧑ competed alongside men since before motor-racing took place on circuits. Early motorsport history is littered with successful women, from the well-known (Helle Nice being but one example) to the commendable but largely f🍃orgotten, such as Kay Petre, Mildred Bruce, or Violet Cordery.

In the early part of the 20th century, cars did not come equipped with power steering. (Shocking, I know.) But back in the💫 days when it did take a bit of brute strength to power a Bentley Blower around Brooklands, women were competing alongside men, setting the occasional lap record, and suffering the same injuries and comas as their male counterparts when a balls-to-the-wall effꦕort went slightly wrong.

Many of these girl-racers were racing cars in an er⭕a when they lacked the right to vote, and in which women were still considered chattel.

In the modern era - when the majority of women 🐠have the right to live, study, work, and vote as they choose - we have come to accept the untruth that women aren’t able to compete in Formula 1. We are told that the G-forces are too strong (not true, just research femal🤪e astronauts and fighter pilots and their greater success in G-force training); that we lack the killer instinct; that we are, for a multitude of reasons, incapable.

But history has already d⛎emonstrated otherwise. Before the Second World War changed the face of Europe - and the role of a woman in the home and in the modern economy - women were a common sight in grand prix racing. Some were bored and rich, making up the numbers while enjoying ‘jolly japes’. But others were professional drivers, with factory contracts and a collection of podium silverware to their names. Some women racers rocked it, some sucked - just like the men they raced against.

Where the W Series has got the concept right is in the creation of a new opportunity for under-funded racing talent to get professional (and financial) support on their way through the ranks. The wider worl🉐d of motorsport needs as many initiatives as possible to ensure that we 🦄continue to have a skilled pool of potential talent going forwards.

But to segregate men and women implies that the two genders cannot ℱcompet♉e equally against each other.

Lest you think that this opinion piece (yes, opinion!) is little more than a woman blowing off steam in the post-#MeToo era, consider this: how would you react if the W Series were an all-Jewish championship, or an exclusively black or Asian or Latﷺin series?

Affirmative action is a tricky one to get right. Empowering people by boosting their opportunities is a good thing, but it’s a fine balance. Talent needꦕs to have the chance to rise to the top irrespective of any individual defining characteristics or circumstances, but the risk is introducing a quota system under which true talent is held back bec🦹ause of the ‘wrong’ chromosome, skin colour, or background.

Had the W Series launched itself as a new opportunity for anyone interested in a career in motors🅘port, its arrival would have been celebrated unreservedly. As things stand, however, in two short weeks the championship has already become a punchline to a joke nobody wanted to hear.

Ah, the W Series. Soon to be christened the ‘What the hell were 🏅they thinking’ Series.