For years, Red Bull were Formula 1’s ultimate machine: ruthless in design, clinical in execution, untouchable on Sundays. In 2025, that aura has collapsed. The car is undercooked, the leadership feels distracted, and the once-dominant empire now looks like it’s staring in the mirror, unsure of what comes next.
The results are brutal. Verstappen, the three-time champion who used to win races in his sleep, sits a distant third in the standings. Red Bull have no rhythm, no upgrades that change the conversation, no momentum. Even worse, it feels like the team doesn’t quite believe in themselves anymore. They’ve gone from setting the tone of the sport to reacting to it—and that’s not who Red Bull ever wanted to be.
What makes this so striking is the silence around it. McLaren’s rise has sucked up all the headlines, and Ferrari’s chaos makes for easy drama, but Red Bull’s decline is the story that really defines 2025. It isn’t just a blip; it feels systemic. The car isn’t just slower, it’s lost. The pit wall isn’t just unlucky, it’s hesitant. The whole outfit has the energy of a team caught between eras, unsure whether the empire can rebuild or whether this is the start of the fade.
Call it a midlife crisis. The swagger is gone, the certainty is gone, and Verstappen alone can’t hold it together. Unless something radical changes, Red Bull risk turning from the unstoppable force into the forgettable subplot. And in Formula 1, that fall happens faster than anyone wants to admit.
