There was an F1 event in Sepang on Oct 4, 2026, the first time since 2017. Hopefully the focus will have been on the race (won by Red Bull's Max Verstappen) and not a continuation of the huge controversy that erupted after the Sept 26, 2026, Azerbaijan Grand Prix.
There, Argentine driver Franco Colapinto went too fast, too quickly, and unfortunately caused a chain of collisions that included ending the race of reigning F1 champion, Briton Lando Norris.
Time and grid penalties were awarded, but Norris was still not satisfied, calling for a ban on Colapinto. That, in turn, caused a furore on social media, with 84,000 comments appearing on Norris’ Instagram post. Fortunately, the respective team bosses and senior figures stepped in to defuse the situation, and Norris apologised.
Which of course is the important part.
When something goes wrong, our first instinct is often to decide who is at fault, demand punishment, and shout very loudly about it. It seems so much harder to implement the STOP method used for emotional management: Stop, Think about what has happened (in this F1 case, with the rules), look at the Options available, and then Plan what should happen next.
I’ve often wondered what the early days of Malaya and Malaysia might have looked like if Instagram, TikTok, and X had existed then. Imagine the comments section during the London Conference of 1956. “Dude, why are we being so polite to the colonial overlords?”
Yet there was serious discussion being held as Tunku Abdul Rahman and the Alliance Party negotiated for Malaya’s independence.
A memo written by party leader Tunku Abdul Rahman to the Reid Commission in 1956 explicitly required that “Malaysia should have a Head of State entitled the Yang di-Pertuan Besar” who would be the constitutional head of the country and that “their Highnesses the Rulers should continue to be constitutional Rulers of their respective States”.
The Reid Commission agreed with the idea of a strong federal government, with the Rulers becoming constitutional monarchs. But how do you plan to preserve the dignity and position of those sovereigns, and still make sure that the elected government is free to govern?
The Reid Commission report itself shows how much thought went into this question. Justice Abdul Hamid’s Note of Dissent argued that if royal assent was to be part of the process, then “the Constitution should give power to the Yang di-Pertuan Besar to accord assent or to withhold assent”.
I can imagine that if Instagram had existed in 1957, there would have been lots of little videos explaining to the public at large how obvious or ridiculous it was that a constitutional commission could even be at odds about such a thing.
There were other dissensions and even matters taken to court in those early days. But that is how a constitutional government should work. If you argue with the government that they are going against the Constitution, you don’t shout louder at each other. You go to court and settle it like adults.
That still leaves the question: What exactly is the role of the monarchy? Ask a dozen Malaysians and you might get two dozen answers.
For me, the Rulers are constitutional monarchs, with defined constitutional functions, including areas where personal discretion exists. In 2013, the Sultan of Selangor relied on a 1988 state law to formally decree that non-Muslims cannot use the word “Allah” in their holy books. In 2014, the Sultan of Johor instructed the state government to declare Friday and Saturday as state holidays to make it easier for Muslims to offer their Friday prayers.
Where does “at your own discretion” stop and “must take advice” become the rule? That question was tested in Perak in 2009.
The then mentri besar, Nizar Jamaluddin, lost his majority after several assemblymen defected, and he asked the Sultan to dissolve the state assembly. The Sultan declined and appointed another mentri besar whom he considered capable of commanding majority support. The matter eventually reached the courts, which upheld the Sultan’s position.
This was a situation where the constitutional system had to deal with a situation that the people who wrote the rules could not have foreseen. We talk about laws as if they are instructions that must be followed at all times, like when you’re building an Ikea sofa.
But in real life, people change minds and sides. Ministers within the same government disagree. Parliament passes laws that have unintended consequences. Sometimes screws go loose.
Going to court and rewriting laws is not a failure. The Constitution should be regarded as a living entity, subject to change as we understand it better. The Reid Commission itself received 131 memoranda from different sections of Malayan society before producing its recommendations. I’m not sure they would have done better if they had received another 84,000.
Of course it’s exciting when there is a dramatic collision and everyone is keen to just pile in. But perhaps the best thing to do is to STOP, grow up, and get to work at making things better.
