Given the same problem to tackle, different engineers will come up with different solutions. Now most of those solutions will work, they will be valid, and could happily be applied. There will always be a few that are just a little too “out there” to make it.
The interesting thing with solutions is that the best one can vary wildly depending on the circumstances. What works during a design stage, or during testing, is not necessarily going to be desirable during a race situation.
An example from a recent race…
On a British Touring Car there is a small radio receiver known as the “Beacon”. This clever little bit of kit is used by the on-board electronics and data logging systems to separate each lap during a race. It provides a cut-off between laps, and generates the comparative lap time and split timings to the driver on the dash display.
In all honesty, this is not a critical piece of kit for the race. The driver rarely looks at his laptimes during a race. It’s main use is during post-race analysis where data engineers such as myself can use it for comparison and navigation.
Where this is important the driver however, is during qualifying. During qualifying, a driver wants to know exactly where he or she is gaining or loosing time, and would like a comparison to a previous or theoretical best lap. Not having a beacon during qualifying is a huge disadvantage.
During a recent BTCC round, we noticed that the driver radioed to say he did not have laptimes appearing on the dash. When the car came in for new tyres, I inspected the beacon and saw that it’s mount had rotated around the rollcage meaning it no longer pointed out of the window. No line of site to the transmitter means no lap time. A simple fix; I forced the beacon back around and away he went.
Three laps later, we receive another radio call.
"No Lap Time."
However, this time I was ready. Before the car was back in the pitlane, I had several lengths of duct tape torn off and taped to my trouser (USA: Pant) leg. As soon as the car stopped, I rotated the beacon again, and secured it with copious amounts of tape. It was crude and messy. It was not what you might call the ideal solution. But the two most important things about this particular solution are:
Would duct tape have been approved when the car was designed? Of course not!
Would it have been signed off during the build process? Nope.
Had the issue occurred during testing, would the duct tape still be on the car? I really doubt it.
My duct tape only stayed on the car for qualifying. Before the race, I applied a much neater and permanent solution. Rubber strips installed between the rollcage and mount mean nothing moves now. This was also applied to the second car in the team to proactively prevent the issue happening there too.
Solutions can be fluid, they evolve and develop. Solutions should not only match problems; they need to match circumstance. As an engineer at a race track, you need to be prepared to come up with fast but workable solutions. You will be under pressure. No one will expect your solution to look like art work, but they will certainly expect your solution to work.
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I finished university several years ago full of enthusiasm and confidence. My degree was strong, my knowledge base solid and my vision of the future crystal clear. However, my first assignment in my new job role opened my eyes to just how little I really knew about the motorsport world.
Having worked for Cosworth Electronics for a matter of weeks, I was sent to support a World Record Attempt for a twin jet turbine engined speed boat. Not the formula cars I had worked on throughout university. Not the closed wheel monsters I was familiar with from weekend work. Speedboats.
Now don't get me wrong, speedboats are cool. This particular speed boat had over 6000hp and was over 15 meters in length. Despite its carbon fibre hull, the catamaran still weighed 3 tonnes. This thing was a colossus.
The boat was so far removed from anything I had learnt about during my studies, and was not something I had even considered when it came to motorsport. Suddenly, I felt way in over my head.
I spent the 2 days prior to the run getting familiar with the beast. I traced wiring through the hull. I plugged in my laptop and offloaded datasets, settings and logged data. I scrutinised every aspect of the boat that was accessible to me in an attempt to understand the task that lay ahead of me. I kept in constant contact with more experienced engineers back in the UK, and slowly managed to take a bite out of the huge elephant. I was fortunate that support from Cosworth was fantastic which really helped things.
Then came the big day. A world record attempt was on the cards.
A fear of overshooting the stopping zone at the end of the course meant dragster style parachutes were attached to the boat. Unfortunately these deployed prematurely due to the intense g-forces. On that failed run, the boat made 210mph. TWO HUNDRED AND TEN MILES PER HOUR WITH THE PARACHUTES DEPLOYED. This indicated that the parachutes in fact would have very little affect, and so were removed for run number two.
Despite a nasty accident of another boat during the event, the pilots throttled on from the staging area and brought the speed up. All the way to 244mph. A new record.
My part in this endeavour was small. The boat had been set up prior to me arriving by a colleague and I was really only there to monitor for errors. But I was still a part of it. The feeling within the team, with the pilots, the engineers, the mechanics, was euphoric.
I had survived my baptism of fire. And am a far better engineer for doing so.
The standard format of most races is as follows:
Line up on the grid
Drive a formation lap
Line up on the grid… again
Start the Race
Drive the Race
Finish the Race
Not complex. Not messy. Not taxing. Sometimes this format isn't quite followed. Sometimes things don't quite go to plan.
At the British Touring Car Championship season opener this past weekend, the race did not get going until the third attempt. Following two formation laps (as it is a short circuit) the first race had an aborted start as the pole sitter suffered mechanical difficulties. This would have almost guaranteed a huge incident so the safest thing to do was wait.
After another two formation laps, the cars lined up again. This time there was a huge incident on the start/finish straight and the race was red flagged after just a few hundred meters of racing. The cars drove around the track, stopping short of the grid to allow for clean-up. During this time the cars were in parc ferme, but mechanics were given access to allow for final checks and to ensure the cars kept cool.
After yet another two formation laps, the cars lined up once again. Finally we got the race started.
Whilst all of this was going on, the team radios were alive with chatter. The track and championship officials were communicating with team managers, trying to keep them informed of what was happening. The team managers were informing the drivers' engineers, and the engineers were informing the drivers. Questions about grid position, formation laps, fuel quantities, temperatures, pressures, strategy and tyre choice. The sheer amount of information being exchanged was colossal.
Throughout all of this though, the team remained calm and collected. There was no panic and, all things being considered, everything ran smoothly for the restart. And the reason for this sense of calm in such a chaotic situation?
Whatever the outcome, and whatever the circumstance, there is a process for dealing with it. Processes may be general and generic, but can be tailored to suit situations such as this. Having both the experience and confidence to deal with chaotic and fluid situations sets the difference between the good teams and the best teams. And each element within those teams must have that same mindset and that same preparedness.
Spend the time between races planning and practicing for every eventuality.
Fail to Prepare - Prepare to Fail.
Carroll Smith felt strongly that every apprentice, every mechanic and every engineer that worked on a race car should have attended a driving school prior to doing so. The reason he thought this was a good idea (and even included in his own apprenticeship programs) is it is the best way to gain an understanding of how a car behaves. Learning about understeer or oversteer or balance or aero effects from a text book doesn't mean you know what understeer, oversteer, balance or aero effects actually are. You cannot have a kinaesthetic feeling for what they actually do to a car.
Gaining experience in how a car behaves will set an engineer apart, especially early in his or her career. Drivers, for all the skills, are not necessarily engineers. I have worked with numerous drivers over the years and there are some who strive to have a thorough understanding of the car and the laws of physics, and then there are those who drive on feel and can struggle to communicate what the car is doing, or even what they want it to be doing. If you, as their engineer, can decipher what it is that they want and need from the car, then you are going to earn your pay at the track. If you can understand elaborate hand motions and wishy-washy language from a driver who is not an engineer, you are doing very well.
Understanding how a car really behaves, in the real-world, transient conditions found on a race track does not come from university lectures, college classes or 2 inch thick text books. It comes from experience. It comes from taking the time to throw yourself in to the experience of racing. In all likelihood, no one will pay for you to learn to drive fast. You'll have to fund it yourself. Although as your experience and network grows, you're more likely to find someone who can help you make it happen a little cheaper. If you get the chance to start translating what a driver is telling you in to a real world take it. It will be incredibly valuable to you as an engineer, and it will probably be a lot of fun…
Everything on a racing car affects something else. Nothing works in isolation, and understanding the complex systems and links between the systems is crucial to engineering a winning car.
I've discussed before how compromise is needed to win races. That having an optimal overall system is more important and optimising each system on its own. But within those systems, you have often unseen and not so obvious links that can have a detrimental effect on the overall package.
I'll use a few examples to show you what I mean:
Most modern racing cars will have the ability to alter the engine map depending on driver preference and prevailing track conditions. This usually involves altering ever so slightly how power is delivered, however some championships may allow for more than this. There are situations where more aggressive, higher power engine maps are used during qualifying for example. These maps put a huge strain on the engine, but are only used for a relatively short period of time.
What is often overlooked is how these engine changes will affect the traction. A driver may complain that they cannot use the power when they want to out of corner, and so a less aggressive map will be used. However this will reduce the slip ratio for the driven axle, potentially inducing understeer.
Worse than this, your chassis engineer may decide that the issue of corner exit traction can be rectified through kinematic and geometry changes. If both chassis and engine changes are made, you can easily end up going too far and ruining the overall balance or making the car sluggish.
Changing ride heights is one of the fundamentals of setting up a race car. It will have a direct effect on the roll center of the car, and as such a dramatic effect on the handling. It is something that is usually something that can be changed quickly, and often by only a few millimeters (See Small Changes).
However the ride height does not act in isolation.
Changing ride heights will have an effect on the suspension kinematics; the way the wheel is controlled and moves under bounce and rebound. If this is not taken in to consideration when the ride height change is made, the results can be unexpected. Now most race cars will have adjustable everything on each wheel - camber, caster, toe, K, etc. - but if they are not changed in a systematic and controlled way, you can spoil the balance and handling of your car.
Another often overlooked effect of ride height changes is the affect it can have on the aerodynamics of the car. A car running a little too high or a little too low can be comes unstable and even dangerous. Adjustable splitters, diffusers and wings are there to accommodate changes where necessary but there is often a limit to what can be done.
Tyre Pressure Changes
Yes, even the simplest of changes to make can have knock on effects to other areas of the car. The tyres can be thought of as a spring, and they do play a crucial role in the spring rate of a wheel system as a whole. The entire system (from contact patch to chassis mount) has a spring rate that is known as the "Wheel Rate". Changing the tyre pressure will change this value.
To a degree, tyre pressure changes can be tolerated by the suspension system. Plus or minus a few tenths of a bar won't have dire consequences. But if you start playing around with larger pressure changes, you will fall in to a trap of chasing ghost springs in your system.
I have also seen cases where tyres were calibrated using nitrogen, but run using compressed air. The difference in Gas Constant meant the tyres were completely out of kilter with where they were expected to be. They came back from a run massively overheated and over inflated.
Before committing to a change on a car, think carefully about where the change will have an effect. What other systems might be altered by your change? How can the changes be negated or accommodated?
Compromise wins races. But knowledge definitely helps.
As a boy scout, I was taught to always be prepared. To expect the unexpected and to accommodate the unforeseen in any plan. Always bring backup matches camping. And complement that with a flint and steel. Water may be heavy, but bring a little more than you think you need. It will come in handy if you need to wash a wound or help a fellow scout out.
When approaching motorsport, the success stories use an identical mindset. They work off the principle that preparing in advance for all eventualities will give them an advantage over any and every team which don’t. Successful motorsport teams, and the successful motorsport engineers within them apply two golden rules to just about everything. Firstly:
Fail to prepare? Prepare to fail.
This statement is applicable to many areas of life, be it studies (revising for exams), business (hedging investments) or relationships (buy those flowers ahead of time!). In motorsport, failing to prepare removes any aspect of whether luck is on your side or not. Whilst “luck” is never a race winning strategy, after a short time on the front line of racing you will experience the affect that lady luck plays on the outcome of races. Punctures happen. Weather changes. Cars crash. However, if you have done the work beforehand and prepared for these outcomes, they don’t necessarily mean that all is lost.
A properly trained pitcrew can change all four tyres on a Formula One car in under four seconds (the current record is 1.92 seconds – well done to the Williams crew!). This is only achievable with practice. These guys in the pitlane don’t turn up on race day having never met or held a nut gun before. They practice for hours and days during the off-season time, and as often as possible during race season too. This practice, this preparation is what allows them to achieve the 3 second tyre change times. And this means that should their driver pick up a puncture, the damage is limited to seconds not minutes. The deficit is recoverable.
The second mantra by which the motorsport industry lives by is:
Two is one and one is none.
A little bit of a strange saying at first glance, but on inspection one that has true application in the motorsport industry. This motto refers to carrying spare parts to a race. Even for the most affluent race teams, logistics mean that part supply is finite. You can only bring what you can carry. The crux of this statement is that having only a single spare of any critical part on the car is tantamount to having no spares of that part. If the part fails and you replace it, you then have zero. The part could fail during free practice. It could even fail during engine warm-up. And then you are in a position that a single failure will stop the car from running.
Carrying a second spare alleviates this issue. A failure does not leave you reliant on lady luck. A failure just means you need to order another one after the race is finished. You are not racing on knife edge.
Being ready to deal with the unforeseen is a skill in and of itself. Planning for the worst is a key competency in every successful race team, and every successful motorsport engineer. By never leaving things to chance, mitigating the risk of failure and assessing worst case scenarios, you can make sure that luck remains on your side on race day.
What is the resolution for a change in ride height?
How much will an engine tuner change their target lambda by?
Camber and toe changes tend to fall in what range?
-5° to +5°
And what increments do we change them in?
What is the operating range for engine temperatures?
80°C to 85°C
How much do we alter the angle of attack of the rear wing?
What is the tolerance on a go/no-go gauge?
Tire pressures - what do they get adjusted by?
What is the accepted error on ignition angle?
How much extra fuel do you carry?
Ballast can be moved in what size increments?
How much over the boost limit will get you disqualified?
How much can you win or lose a race by?
Don't think a change is too small, that it is insignificant. That change is what makes you win.
It is the accumulation of tiny changes, of the slightest improvements, that make the difference between first place and everyone else. Being prepared to make adjustments on the micro scale will show itself in the results on the macro scale. It separates those who win from those who compete.
And you only show up at the track to win.
Never to just compete.
One of the main draws of motorsport is just how varied your career can be. I have countless friends from university and from the working in motorsport that belong in every engineering discipline imaginable.
One of my closest friends from university works as an engine designer. Although he rarely gets to a track, he has a passion and a talent for Computer Aided Design. He is visionary and works towards progressing the engine technology in race cars. This will ultimately have a direct impact on road cars.
And he loves his job.
I have a friend who specialize in chassis development, working with 6 poster kinematics and compliance rigs. He finds the tiny nuances in a racing car and help reduce the variability in the dynamic performance. The detail to which he can look in to your chassis and suspension is unbelievable.
And he loves his job.
I have a friend who works with tires. Yes tires. She can tell you exactly what your car is doing out on the track by looking at the sticky rubber stuff. Her ability to read the behavior of the car and explain what can be done to improve it is remarkable. Its a black art that she is well on the way to mastering.
And she loves her job.
Specializing in motorsport should not be something to shy away from. Quite the opposite is true. Specializing opens up the world to you and your skillset becomes far more desirable. When you start out soak up all the knowledge you can, and use that knowledge to decide where you want to concentrate. Do you want to be a designer? Do you want to be an aerodynamicist? How about a race engineer? Or a strategist? Maybe you would like to work in hospitality or public relations? You could perhaps go in to driver coaching, chassis development or engine tuning?
The list is literally endless.
Pick a specialism that appeals to you and apply yourself to be the best you can be at it. Become the person with a reputation in the field of your choosing. If you try to be a master of all trades, you will fail. No one ever is. It is the people who are good at their niche that really excel in motorsport. It is only by specializing that you will be able to freelance; no one hires someone who claims to be able to do everything!
I am a data engineer. And I have plenty of friends who are also data engineers. I get to work with a huge variety of cars and teams, finding the secrets to performance in the squiggly lines on our laptops. I get to travel all over the world to help teams decipher what the black boxes on the cars are trying to tell them. I have worked on boats in Missouri, motorbikes in France, hypercars in the UK and I'm not close to being done.
And guess what?
I love my job.
Find out more about Specializing in Motorsport in the Starting on Pole book, available here.
Working as a freelancer in motorsport is great.
You get to pick who you work for, the team-driver-car combination that you want to work with, the events you want to attend and the championships you want to compete in. You are your own boss and have a lot of freedom. You can have as much time off as you like, and get pretty much all of the time between seasons to yourself. Great!
One or two caveats, however.
If you're not working, you're not getting paid. No one will pay you for taking time off. There is no holiday time, no sick pay, no days in lieu. No work means no money.
You can pick and choose who you work for, absolutely. But if you're too picky, you'll never work for anyone. This results in no work... see above.
So how do you go about making sure you have work, and that you are working where you want to be?
After a few years in motorsport you will easily see that networking is critical to survival. Who you know and who knows you will make or break a career, whether you are a freelancer or not. This is covered fairly extensively in the SOP Book. Also in the book are some ideas on how to improve both the size and value of your network.
The simplest way of finding your next role as a freelancer is to ask people you know. Ask those you have worked with in the past. Even if they don't have work, they will often know of another team who do. I have used this successfully many times. I keep a close group of competitors (I use the term loosely) that will often give me a head's up about work. As a data engineer, I have the advantage of being quite niche. This means the work is out there if you can find it. Often other data engineers will have been approached for work and they simply can't do it due to other commitment. Having a healthy relationship with your competitors means they will recommend you for those roles. Of course, you should always be prepared to reciprocate on this!
Another valuable source of work is from the so-called "cold approach". This means phoning or emailing a team speculatively asking if they require your services. This might seem somewhat sleazy, but a well written, personal and direct email is more often than not well received. By targeting a person rather than a team (so a chief engineer, team principle, team manager) you stand a far better chance of success than using an info@ email address. And even if you get a negative response from this, it won't necessarily be the end of the story. If your email is engaging and details your strengths, and the benefits you would bring to the team, it will be filed for use at a later date. Maybe they have filled their positions for this season, but next season is wide open. What's more, they might even put you in touch with a friend or colleague from another championship or team who requires your services. I spent around 3 hours composing an email and sending it out to the teams of just one championship. I received positive responses for around 75% of them. This means I am in a far better position to negotiate as I know the demand is there.
Third and final way of finding work is attending professional events. In the UK we have just had the Autosport International Show. This was an excellent opportunity for me to touch base with existing contacts, and also to meet new ones. I had productive meetings with people from all over the world - some of which I had never met before. The ability to put a face to a name is important. The ability to associate that name and face with a personality is even more so. At these events you are in sales mode, but you should be charming, charismatic and a whole host of other typical buzzwords that sell yourself without you having to try.
Finding work in motorsport is not difficult if you know how. Do some homework. Do some legwork. Get out there and find your next winning combination.
When you watch a Formula One race, it is very easy to believe that everything on those cars is optimised. That everything is the very best it can be. The pinnacle of technology and development.
You would be wrong.
Everything on those cars is a compromise. What sets Formula One apart from lower classes of motorsport is the compromises are being decided on by using the best software, the smartest people and most money. Don't get me wrong, a Formula One car is a truly amazing piece of engineering and is the very best it can be. But to believe that everything on the car is ideal is incorrect.
I'll use Formula One in this post as it provides the most extreme examples, but the principles and lessons can be applied to any form of motorsport. In fact, any form of engineering come to think of it...
On an F1 car, aero is king. If you work in F1, or intend to in the future, remember that statement. Aero is king. It takes precedence over everything else. This means that everything designed to be on the outside of the car is compromised to improve the aerodynamics. The most obvious example of this is the suspension system. Look how flat and thin the wishbones are on the cars. They are shaped like mini aerofoils so as not to disrupt the air flow by creating turbuence. The air moving between the nose and the wheel is destined to end up either under the car in the diffuser, passing through a radiator, or moving up and interacting with that giant rear wing. As a suspension designer, you would want your wishbones to be made of tubes, with uniform stress distributions and linear behaviour under bending. The aerodynamicists would throw that design out and tell you to try again. The result is a suspension system that has been moved away from the ideal. A compromise.
There are plenty of other examples:
The Exhaust - Length and geometry and designed in a way that best advantages the airflow at the back of the car. It won’t be optimised for engine torque.
The Wheels - Designed to reduce turbulence and calm down the airflow. Probably not the lightest they can be, but more functional.
Radio Antennas - Ideally, they wouldn't be there at all. The generous Aerodynamicists let you have a few centimetres in the middle of the nose cone. Radio transmissions have been known to suffer.
Don't think that the compromise is all one way however. Every compromise made also affects the aero package on the car. Suspension needs to hold the wheels on. Exhausts need to vent somewhere. Wheels need to spin. Radios need to transmit.
And the biggest bug-bear for any aero engineer - that pesky driver insists on sticking his head out right in the middle of the car. To help, they give him a fancy streamlined helmet, but wouldn't it be so much nicer if he wasn't there in the first place?
Remember as you progress through your career that you are constantly looking for the best compromise. You want the best for the car as a whole - not necessarily what's best for your little bit. Be patient with your colleagues and take the time to understand the implications that your changes will have on other areas.
Having the best suspension, exhaust routing, wheels, radio or helmet will not win a race individually. But compromise and get the best combination of them? Now you're on to a winner!
Tom is an engineer working his way through the motorsport industry, sharing stories, anecdotes and lessons to help new engineers coming through the ranks.