A modern take on the most iconic and controversial race in Formula One.
It’s glamorous, outdated, and deeply flawed — and still, no one can imagine a Formula One calendar without it. So what gives Monaco its unshakable grip on F1’s identity?
Every year, the Monaco Grand Prix arrives like clockwork, bringing with it an age-old debate, ‘Why are we still racing here’?
The answers are never simple or unanimous. Because Monaco is a contradiction. It’s the slowest race on the calendar, yet the most breathtaking. The least exciting in terms of overtakes, yet the most prestigious to win. To understand why it still matters in 2025, you have to look beyond the stopwatch and into the soul of the sport.
A circuit frozen in time
Monaco is arguably the most extreme case of tradition outpacing practicality in sport.
The Circuit de Monaco was carved through the streets of Monte Carlo in 1929. It wasn’t designed with 200mph cars in mind. There are no vast run-offs, no forgiving gravel traps, no room for error. Every corner is lined with steel, stone, or sea. And in a modern F1 car which is now longer, wider, and heavier than ever before, it’s borderline absurd.
On paper, it shouldn’t work. And in many ways, it doesn’t.
There’s virtually no overtaking. Pit strategy becomes the entire race. A misjudged qualifying lap can define your weekend. It's a procession as much as it is a race.
But maybe that’s the point.
Because Monaco doesn’t reward raw power or perfect machinery — it demands something elemental from the driver: bravery, finesse, and faultless concentration. Every lap is a calculated risk. Every corner is an invitation to crash. And every Monaco winner walks away not just with points, but with a sense of immortality.
A living monument to F1’s past
There is no other race on the calendar with Monaco’s pedigree. It is one of the crown jewels of motorsport’s fabled “Triple Crown” (alongside Le Mans and the Indy 500). And unlike so many newer circuits, Monaco has memories baked into its walls.
You can trace the very evolution of Formula One through its corners.
- The Loews Hairpin, once tight for small, light cars, now barely contains a modern F1 machine.
- The tunnel, still as intimidating and cinematic as ever.
- The Swimming Pool chicane, once a flick, now a white-knuckle sequence that demands complete trust in your car.
This is where Senna mesmerized. Where Prost dueled. Where Schumacher schemed. It’s where history feels tangible. No amount of flashing lights or artificial marinas can replace that.
There’s a reason drivers speak about Monaco in hushed tones. Ask any of them, and they’ll say the same: if you could only win one race in your career, make it this one.
Why? Because Monaco is a legacy-maker. Just ask Ayrton Senna, who won it six times and made it look like art. Or Graham Hill — Mr. Monaco himself. There’s a romance to conquering this place. You don’t luck into a Monaco win. You survive it. You earn it.
When a driver conquers Monaco, they don’t just win a race. They join a pantheon.
The theatre of it all
Monaco isn’t just a motorsport event, It’s Formula One at its most self-aware and self-indulgent. And while that might make some fans uncomfortable, it also explains a lot about its enduring appeal.
Here, F1 stops pretending to be anything but elite. You’ll see drivers arriving by boat. Gridwalks packed with pop stars and royalty. Paddocks transformed into playgrounds of champagne and watch sponsors. Every corner is framed by opulence, and whether you love or loathe it, you look. You engage. You talk about it.
For new fans brought in by Drive to Survive, Monaco delivers a Netflix-ready spectacle. And for traditionalists, it offers the kind of racing purity and legend-building that newer circuits can’t replicate.
Should It still be on the calendar?
Let’s be honest, if Monaco were proposed today as a brand-new circuit, it wouldn’t pass FIA approval. The layout is too dangerous by modern standards. The racing is processional. It doesn’t sell itself to the data crowd.
But Monaco was never meant to compete with modern street circuits like Baku or Jeddah. It’s not about wheel-to-wheel combat, it’s about enduring the most psychologically demanding lap in Formula One.
Take it off the calendar, and you lose something intangible in heritage, identity, drama.
And yes, there’s an argument to be made that Formula One is evolving with sustainability goals, fan accessibility, and better racing as its future pillars. But Monaco doesn’t have to be an obstacle to that progress. It can be a living artefact, the museum piece that still functions, the relic that still races.
Monaco may not fit the sport’s future — but to lose Monaco would be to sever a link with F1’s past. In a season filled with generic street circuits and sponsor-built arenas, Monaco feels real, rooted, mythic.
Monaco is not the best race on the calendar, not by modern standards. Overtaking is rare, strategy often outweighs on-track action, and the circuit no longer suits the size and speed of today’s cars.
But despite its shortcomings, it continues to offer something no other race does, an uncompromising challenge for drivers and a direct link to the sport’s heritage. It tests skill in ways that modern circuits simply don’t, and it delivers pressure and precision unlike anywhere else. Its place in Formula One isn’t about performance metrics, it’s about identity. Remove Monaco and you don’t just lose a race, you lose a key piece of what defines the sport.
For all its flaws, Monaco still matters. And until something truly better comes along, not just faster or newer, it still deserves its spot on the calendar.
