Formula 1 Dictionary : Suspension

Adrian Newey with his Formula 1 Dictionary
NORTHAMPTON, ENGLAND – JULY 07: Adrian Newey, the Chief Technical Officer of Oracle Red Bull Racing looks on, on the grid during the F1 Grand Prix of Great Britain at Silverstone Circuit on July 07, 2024 in Northampton, England. (Photo by Mark Thompson/Getty Images) // Getty Images / Red Bull Content Pool // SI202407070547 // Usage for editorial use only //

Formula 1 suspension is the invisible assassin of lap time. It connects tires to chassis, keeps the car planted, and turns chaotic forces into corner speed. Get it wrong and you’re skating; get it right and the competition? Reduced to expensive spectators.

The job is simple to say, brutal to execute: keep the tires in constant contact with the track while protecting the car’s aerodynamic platform. That means absorbing bumps without bouncing, resisting roll without wrecking grip, and controlling pitch without killing turn-in. It’s part ballet, part bar fight.

Engineers talk in three axes: heave, pitch and roll. Heave is vertical movement from aero load and bumps. Pitch is nose-dive under braking and squat on throttle. Roll leans the car in corners. Control those, and lights out and away we… oh wait, you already won.

The hardware: springs, dampers, and geometry

F1 cars use lightweight, brutally strong components made from titanium, aluminium, and carbon fibre. The suspension core is the spring and damper pairing: springs store energy, dampers control how that energy moves. Teams deploy coil springs, torsion bars, or composite springs depending on packaging and target traits.

Geometry is king. Double wishbones control camber and toe through travel, while uprights link hubs to wishbones for pinpoint wheel control. The design goal is predictable tire contact patches under colossal loads, lap after lap. Consistency wins, chaos costs.

Anti-roll bars and ride height

The anti-roll bar ties left and right wheels together to resist body roll. Stiffen it, and you flatten the platform for aero. Soften it, and you feed mechanical grip to the outer tires. Pick your poison and hope your driver can live with it.

Ride height is the distance from chassis to track. It’s set with shims and hydraulic preloads in the garage, not by electronics on track. Lower is faster for aero, but too low scrapes and stalls the floor. Miss the window and, yes, file this under: Yikes.

Pushrod vs pullrod: pick your poison

Pushrod routes a rod upward to a rocker; pullrod drags it downward. Both drive inboard springs and dampers for aero cleanliness and low drag. The choice reshapes the car’s packaging, center of gravity, and airflow to the floor. No universal best. Only trade-offs.

Pushrod is easier to access for setup and often plays nice with steering gear. Pullrod can lower mass and open airflow, but mechanics get a yoga workout. Teams choose based on chassis concept and airflow priorities. If it makes the diffuser happier, it stays.

FRIC: the interlinked era that got banned

FRIC stood for Front-and-Rear Interconnected suspension. It passively linked all four corners with hydraulics to stabilize the platform under braking, acceleration, and cornering. No electronics. No driver inputs. Think 1990s active suspension’s calmer, legal cousin. For a while.

The concept routed pressure between heave, pitch, and roll circuits so the car held a near-constant ride height. Stamp on the brakes and the rear would squat to match the front’s dive. Turn in and the outer side fought roll. Result: more consistent aero, less tire abuse, and happier drivers.

It wasn’t plug-and-play. Teams used gas springs, accumulators, and clever valving to tune warp stiffness for mixed maneuvers, like braking while turning. Set-up took ages and a small library of pressure maps. When dialed, it sent everyone else back to karting school.

Then came the hammer. A mid-2014 directive warned that FRIC influenced aero too directly, clashing with rules demanding each axle respond only to loads on its own axle. By 2015, FRIC was formally banned. Gains shrank across the board, but tire wear and platform control felt the sting. Somewhere, a PR manager just had a minor stroke.

Materials, strength, and adjustability

Suspension has to be featherweight and bombproof. That’s why you see titanium, aluminium, and carbon in every corner. Loads are savage under downforce; tolerances are minuscule. Failures don’t ask politely, so the hardware is massively over-qualified for the job.

Adjustability is the secret sauce: setup tweaks include spring rates, damping (bump and rebound), anti-roll bars, heave elements, camber, toe, and packers. Tracks demand different compromises. Monaco wants compliance. Silverstone demands a rock-solid platform. Pick wrong and your driver is collecting disappointments like they’re Pokemon cards.

Setup cheat sheet

Don’t want to memorize a race engineer’s thesis? Here’s the fast, sharp, no-fluff quick reference you actually need.

  • Heave: vertical motion from aero and bumps. Third elements and packers manage this.
  • Pitch: nose down on brakes, tail down on throttle. Balance this to protect aero.
  • Roll: lateral lean in corners. Anti-roll bars and crossweights set the attitude.
  • Ride height: lower is faster, until the floor stalls. Margins are millimeters.
  • Damping: bump controls compression; rebound controls extension. Too soft = float, too stiff = skate.
  • Springs: coils, torsion bars, composites. Choose packaging and response, not fashion.
  • Pushrod vs pullrod: accessibility versus aero flow. Packaging decides the winner.
  • Tires: everything serves them. If they’re happy, your strategist looks like a genius.

Historical callbacks

Today’s passive tricks nod to yesterday’s revolution. FRIC kept ride height steady; active suspension in the early ’90s did it with computers, famously on the Williams FW14B. Same goal: iron out attitude changes so the aero stays glued to its sweet spot. Channeling 1992 Williams, except nobody asked for that sequel.

And it goes deeper. Tyrrell’s mid-’90s Hydrolink chased similar benefits. Minardi’s early-’90s passive hydraulics cross-linked axles to calm pitch. The theory was tasty; track reality, less so. Turns out, clever plumbing can help a great car, but it can’t rescue an average one. The plot thickens like some teams’ excuse lists.

The bottom line: why it wins you races

Stable platform equals efficient downforce. Efficient downforce equals higher minimum speeds, better braking stability, and kinder tire wear. That’s a compounding advantage, not a one-lap party trick. It makes fast look easy.

Great suspension gives drivers confidence to lean on the car, lap after lap. Cue classic late-braking moves and hammer-time laps on demand. Mechanical grip feeds aero, aero feeds lap time, and lap time feeds trophies. Everyone else? Reduced to expensive spectators.

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