Alpine F1 has entered a volatile new phase, one shaped by rapid leadership changes, controversial driver decisions, and a growing disconnect between its public messaging and its internal maneuvering. The team is no stranger to upheaval, but in 2025, the chaos feels different. It feels strategic. Calculated. And, increasingly, like a gamble with its future on the line.
Flavio Briatore: The Puppet Master Returns
When Flavio Briatore was appointed Executive Advisor in 2024, many in the paddock and among fans raised eyebrows. Here was a man whose name is still synonymous with both championship glory and scandal. A key architect of Michael Schumacher’s Benetton success, Briatore also oversaw Fernando Alonso’s titles at Renault. But he’s just as well known for his role in the “Crashgate” saga, a controversy that earned him a lifetime ban (later overturned) and a long stint in F1 exile.
Yet in May 2025, following the resignation of Team Principal Oliver Oakes, Briatore’s role has shifted from the shadows to the spotlight. Though not officially named TP, Briatore is now widely regarded as Alpine’s de facto team boss. His presence in the garage and control over team operations at Monza confirm what insiders had whispered for weeks: Flavio is running the show.
This isn’t just a temporary fix; it’s a signal. A signal that Alpine is tired of waiting. Tired of caution. Tired of failure. And it’s turned to the most unapologetically ruthless figure it could find in hopes of engineering a turnaround.
But this return to old-school leadership is not without risks. Briatore’s methods may have brought success in the past, but they also reflect an F1 that has evolved since his prime. In a sport increasingly shaped by long-term planning, transparent driver development, and corporate accountability, Alpine’s pivot feels like a rejection of the modern blueprint. It’s a throwback, and not necessarily in a good way.
Doohan Discarded, Colapinto Called Up: A Transition Without Tact
Nowhere is Alpine’s shift more jarring than in how it’s handled its driver development program. Just a year ago, Jack Doohan was the clear successor-in-waiting. A loyal reserve, simulator mainstay, and regular presence in team briefings, he had done everything Alpine asked, and more. It made sense when he was called into the 2nd Alpine seat. But when Alpine abruptly dropped him in favor of Franco Colapinto after 6 races, Doohan found himself demoted to be a reserve driver.
This wasn’t a mutual parting or a managed transition. It was a cold execution. One that left many within the F1 ecosystem, from rival drivers to media to fans, openly questioning Alpine’s internal culture.
Haas driver Oliver Bearman called it out publicly, slamming the move as “incredibly harsh.” And rightly so. For a team that has long pitched itself as a proving ground for young talent, Alpine’s treatment of Doohan shattered that narrative.
Yet in the middle of this storm stands Franco Colapinto, a rising Argentine driver with undeniable promise, and the awareness to know what kind of situation he’s walked into.
To his credit, Colapinto handled the transition with humility and poise. He was quick to praise Doohan, calling him “a really good guy,” and expressed regret at the timing of his own promotion. But he also made it clear: you don’t get to choose when your F1 opportunity comes. And when it does, you take it. There was no hesitation in accepting Alpine’s offer, nor should there have been.
Colapinto’s statements weren’t about doubt or unreadiness; they were a clear-eyed acknowledgment of how brutal and unpredictable Formula 1 can be. His rise wasn’t a betrayal of Doohan. It was simply the latest example of how quickly the ladder can shift beneath a driver’s feet.
Gasly’s Double Message: All Is Well, Except What Isn’t
In the midst of the fallout, Pierre Gasly has tried to present a united front. Speaking to media at Monza, he insisted that “there is no trouble at Alpine,” projecting calm and cohesion. Yet in nearly the same breath, he admitted the handling of Doohan’s situation was “sad” and “too transparent in the wrong way.”
That contradiction has not gone unnoticed. While Gasly plays the role of team spokesman, his words reveal deeper tensions. The internal mood may be one of professional resolve, but from the outside, it reads like damage control. A tightly wound attempt to maintain appearances while the internal scaffolding creaks.
What’s striking is how alone Gasly seems in trying to hold the narrative together. With Doohan gone, a wildcard of Colapinto as his new teammate, and Briatore taking a firmer grip on the wheel, Gasly looks less like a team leader and more like a player caught in someone else’s game plan.
Albon’s Advice from the Sidelines: “Ignore the Noise”
Interestingly, it was Alex Albon, not anyone within Alpine, who voiced the most grounded response to the controversy. Speaking publicly, Albon advised Colapinto to “ignore the noise” and focus on doing the job. As someone who has experienced F1’s volatile politics firsthand, from Red Bull exile to Williams resurgence, Albon’s words carried weight.
His comments were also a quiet indictment of how public the Alpine drama has become. That an outside driver needed to offer support speaks volumes about the vacuum Alpine has left around its own prospects.
A Team Without a Middle Ground
What’s unfolding at Alpine isn’t just a reshuffling of personnel, it’s a full-blown identity crisis. The decisions being made are bold, yes, but they’re also cold, chaotic, and increasingly opaque. There is no middle ground anymore. You’re either useful to Alpine’s new regime, or you’re expendable.
Briatore’s ascension, Colapinto’s promotion, Doohan’s ousting, and Gasly’s tightrope act are all symptoms of a team abandoning patience for immediacy. Whether that brings results or long-term instability remains to be seen. But one thing is clear: the Alpine that entered the 2025 season is not the Alpine we see now.
This version of Alpine isn’t waiting for success to come. It’s trying to seize it, no matter who gets left behind.