Is the Future of Car Racing Electric?

On November 22, the city of Putrajaya, Malaysia will be snarled in traffic. Streets will be shut down and built up with grandstands, crash barricades, and race garages. And while getting around might be difficult, given the pop-up race track in the middle of the city, citizens of Putrajaya won't have to deal with the deafening whine of racecars. Make no mistake, a race will take place, but the cars doing the racing are nearly silent. Putrajaya is hosting the second race in Formula E, "the world's first fully-electric racing series."

FIA (Federation Internationale de l'Automobile) president Jean Todt has talked about an electric racing series for years. Todt and Spanish business man and former politician Alejandro Agag, who heads up the series, have put considerable resources behind Formula E, securing sponsorships and broadcasting partnerships. But resources don't guarantee success, and Formula E's ambition is reflected in the number of obstacles, both technological and cultural, that stand in its way.

The concept—to race electric cars—is simple enough. And it's about time. In a world where climate change caused by burning fossil fuels is ongoing, the automotive industry is finally pivoting toward efficiency. An electric car series represents the zeitgeist while giving an industry synonymous with environmental waste a chance to attract a different audience.

But there's a reason the streets, and racetracks, aren't full of electric cars already, and it's not because people don't want them. It's because there are some serious technological and financial hurdles standing in the way of mainstream electric vehicle usage, most notably weight problems and issues associated with batteries. Todt and Agag see Formula E as a way for racing to contribute to a solution.

That probably sounds crazy, but consider Formula One's example. Through race-based research and development, the world's premier racing series has contributed more to conventional automobiles than you probably realize. Disk brakes, rearview mirrors, advancements in tire technology, and active suspension are are all examples of things implemented—and in some cases developed—by F1 engineers before migrating into your Honda Civic. And that's before even popping the hood.

A successful electric racing series would incentivize all kinds of high-end advancements in electric technology, which in turn could benefit, well, everybody.

But Formula E's problem isn't convincing people it's a good idea, it's convincing people to watch. All that innovation hasn't even begun yet. Because of the inherent risks associated with starting a new racing series, the cars raced this season are all identical. Next season, race organizers plan to allow teams to design their own cars, giving them the latitude needed to pursue a competitive advantage and design new technologies.

In the meantime, Formula E must succeed purely on its racing merits—in the shadow of Formula One. While Formula E wouldn't be around without Formula One's example, comparisons between the two are undermining Formula E's credibility. When it comes to race excitement, the two series don't compare well—at least on paper. The electric cars are heavier than F1 cars (888 kg compared to 691 kg) and less powerful (270 bhp compared to about 760 bhp).

To make up for inadequate battery capacity and high energy consumption, Formula E circuits are smaller than Formula One's, and even with these smaller circuits, the cars need more than one battery to make it through the hour-long race. Because of the car's design, however, those batteries are inaccessible underneath the exterior plating, meaning drivers must switch cars halfway through the race. (Race organizers hope to move to a battery replacement system next season.)

To ensure drivers meet safety regulations, race officials impose a minimum pit-stop time when drivers switch cars. This is a big problem for racing traditionalists, who crave a normal pit stop and the competitive advantage that comes with a fast pit crew. But even more damning for traditionalists is something called FanBoost. An attempt to garner interest from a skeptical public, FanBoost—which allows fans to vote for their favorite drivers, three of whom then have access to extra energy reserves—has done anything but. Racing fans see it for what it is, a gimmick.

In other words, convincing hardcore racing fans to watch Formula E is the series' toughest task. Paradoxically, the way to win them over might not be with comparisons to traditional racing, but by setting Formula E and Formula One as far apart as possible. The FIA should emphasize just how different electric powered cars are, with motors instead of engines and batteries instead of gas tanks. The racing fan community obsesses over design and engineering nuances, but Formula E isn't something inferior; it's a whole new world for the community to fall in love with.

However, diehard racing fans are disgusted by FanBoost and skeptical of technology that may not be quite ready. It's on Formula E to convince those fans to give it a chance, to embrace it for all its drawbacks. Otherwise, Formula E will never make it into its second year. And all that innovative potential will be lost.