There was a time when September weekends meant traffic jams to the track, sunburnt grandstands, and the sound of V10 engines roaring through the main straight.
From 1999 to 2017, Malaysia had its moment in Formula 1 (F1), hosting its very own race. The Malaysian Grand Prix brought the world’s fastest cars and greatest drivers to our backyard. It was a sporting event that people showed up for, year after year. Then it disappeared.
Today, the absence stings. F1 has never been more visible, fashionable, or culturally relevant. Scroll through social media, and you’ll find race clips, paddock fits, and hilarious memes before you even see the race result.
Yet, for a new generation of Malaysian fans, the sport exists entirely on screens or late-night watch parties. They know the drivers, the drama, and the controversies, but they have never felt the ground shake when the lights go out on home soil.
So, what went wrong, and why has F1 not returned to Malaysia?
When Sepang Was The Place To Be
When Sepang International Circuit (Sepang) first opened in 1999, Malaysia finally joined the F1 calendar. This wasn’t a temporary race, but a purpose-built track designed to sit alongside the most respected venues in the sport. Wide corners, long straights, and space to overtake properly. Its layout rewarded bravery rather than caution, making it a favourite amongst drivers.
The first Malaysian Grand Prix drew over 300,000 people across the weekend, with Eddie Irvine taking the inaugural win for Ferrari. With our own world-class circuit, the paddock was filled with celebrities, sponsors, and international media. Meanwhile, the grandstands echoed with cheers.
What truly set it apart, however, was its environment. Sepang quickly built a reputation as one of the most chaotic and physically demanding tracks on the calendar. The heat was relentless, humidity drained concentration, and tropical rain could arrive without warning. Drivers struggled under these conditions, and teams panicked amid the unpredictable weather.
We also witnessed the greatest names in racing fighting wheel-to-wheel under the blazing sun and thunderous storms. From legends such as Mick Schumacher and Fernando Alonso to rising stars at the time, Sebastian Vettel and Lewis Hamilton.
There was even a sense of national pride tied to the event. From 2001 to 2002, Alex Yoong was the first and only Malaysian driver to ever compete in F1. The sport no longer felt like a luxurious European export passing through Asia, but a global championship where Malaysia belonged.
Why The Numbers Stopped Working
The problem, as usual, was money. By the mid-2010s, the numbers no longer made sense. The cost of hosting a Grand Prix had soared to approximately RM300 million per annum, with ticket prices averaging around RM300.
The mass appeal was limited too, drawing mainly hardcore fans and corporate guests. As global TV viewership dipped, local attendance softened as well. Based on the 2017 Economic Impact Assessment performed by PwC, the economic returns didn’t match the invested fees. For the government, the optics became too difficult to defend.
Dato’ Mohammed Rhiza Ghazi, a Director of Sepang International Circuit and Vice President of the Fédération Internationale de Motocyclisme (FIM) Asia, speaks to me about the same dilemma from an institutional angle.
“Malaysia hosted F1 for many years, 19 seasons to be exact”, he says. “So, in terms of the ability to host again, there’s no doubt that we have the experience and capability to do so. However, whether we’re ready and ‘want’ to host such an event is a separate issue altogether.”
Nazim Azman understands that reality from a driver’s perspective. The Malaysian racer, who competed in FIA Formula 3 and most recently in the Porsche Carrera Cup Asia, speaks to me about our failed dream of bringing F1 back. And he doesn’t mince words.
“I think it’s difficult for the government to justify bringing back F1,” he says. “Last time, the costs were lower, around USD20 million, and it was the only race in Asia, so lots of tourists would come and spend.” The landscape has also changed since then. “The government can’t really make back the money anymore because foreigners would rather go to Singapore or China.”
Most nations fund F1 with the expectation that it will boost jobs, tourism, and global branding. Unlike Australia or Abu Dhabi, Malaysia never framed the event as a long-term investment, and the government offered little financial incentives. Instead, the race was treated as a standalone commercial venture, with organisers left to absorb the losses.
Meanwhile, Singapore took a very different approach. Its night race was positioned as a citywide street track, bolstered by private and government funding. Today, the Singapore Grand Prix generates close to SGD1 billion annually in tourism impact. This has led to an increase in hotel, restaurant, and flight bookings across the region, making the race a profitable venture that pays for itself many times over.
“In order to make this work, we hope the corporate sector and the Malaysian government will collaborate to ensure successful implementation of the flagship championship—in execution, promotion and delivery,” Rhiza says. “It’s a costly endeavour. I believe we just need a financing model that works for all parties.”
Unfortunately, in Malaysia, the financial model never evolved with the changing circumstances. A premium sporting event, with rising costs and flattening returns, was an easy target during budget reviews. And thus, F1 was officially described as being in decline, prompting the decision to step away. In 2017, the chequered flag fell for the last time at Sepang.
While Malaysia Stepped Back, F1 Changed
Malaysia exited just as F1 reinvented itself. After Liberty Media took over in 2017, the sport shifted gears, positioning itself as a year-round entertainment platform. Racing still mattered, but digital storytelling and premium hospitality mattered more.
Drivers and teams were now encouraged to speak, share, and be more open on social media. Race weekends grew into lifestyle spectacles that fused motorsport, culture, music, and fashion. The product being sold was no longer limited to lap times and podiums, but an experience that could live across screens and seasons.
Revenue strengthened across the board, particularly in the sport’s three main income streams: race hosting fees, broadcasting rights, and sponsorship agreements. Sponsorship deals regularly exceeded USD5 million, and in 2023, 275 brands were attached to the championship.
The financial results of that repositioning are hard to ignore. In 2024, Formula One Group recorded an annual revenue of USD3.4 billion, while the ten teams reached a combined valuation of USD23 billion.
Individual teams, such as Ferrari and Mercedes, were valued at USD4.78 billion and USD3.94 billion, respectively. These figures far exceed the worth of their factories and machinery alone. Instead, they reflect an expansion into lifestyle and hospitality.
Beyond traditional income streams, licensing, merchandise, and on-site offerings have also surged. The Paddock Club has transformed Grand Prix weekends into high-end festivals, complete with gourmet dining, pit lane access, and exclusive celebrity appearances.
As a result, the audience has diversified, reaching around 750 million people worldwide. The fastest growing segment is young women, a demographic that aligns with its expanding fashion and lifestyle footprint.
Malaysia observed this transformation from the sidelines, watching through Netflix recaps.
Netflix Did What F1 Couldn’t
The surge in F1’s popularity owes much to its partnership with Netflix on Formula 1: Drive To Survive. The docuseries reframed the championship as a high-stakes drama rather than a purely technical contest. It drew in viewers who had not previously followed the sport.
Luckily, they didn’t need to understand the complex jargon of motor racing to connect with the show. Instead, the series was built around access to the major personalities in the paddock. From contract disputes to team politics, it introduced recognisable faces and conflicts.
With the drivers now cast as protagonists, Max Verstappen became the uncompromising competitor and Daniel Ricciardo the charismatic entertainer. Fans invested in their friendships, rivalries, and off-track narratives as they became full-blown celebrities. Meanwhile, Charles Leclerc and Hamilton became recognisable names beyond racing, crossing into luxury fashion.
F1 operates as a multi-billion-dollar ecosystem in which brand partnerships are as visible as lap times. The 20 drivers on the grid serve as fashion ambassadors, with their pre-race arrival fits dissected like red-carpet appearances. The paddock has since grown into a marketing platform for luxury brands and watchmakers, such as Richard Mille, IWC, and TAG Heuer. The result is a sport that blends speed with style.
Meanwhile, the internet never sleeps. Drivers livestream on Twitch and post vlogs on YouTube, collapsing the distance that once defined the motorsport. In doing so, it brings the athletes closer to the fans, turning the sport into a continuous experience rather than just a Sunday broadcast.
The Price Of Falling Behind
The Malaysian Grand Prix had the potential to boost local motorsport and tourism, creating jobs and putting our nation on the map. For drivers like Nazim, the memory of racing here still lingers. “I won the final support race right before the GP in Sepang in 2017,” he recalls. “It was a really good experience.” Still, the door isn’t completely shut.
“Should there be any interested private corporate sponsors willing to bear this cost, I suppose we can discuss and revisit the idea of hosting F1 again,” Rhiza says. “We have the infrastructure, expertise, and logistics advantage — we just need a partner to work with.”
Nazim also acknowledges that an F1 return would raise visibility for Malaysian talent. “It would be good publicity for the younger drivers,” he says. But he’s equally pragmatic. “I think the local motorsports scene in Malaysia is already really strong now.”
Sepang continues to host major international and regional championships, from the GT World Challenge and Lamborghini Super Trofeo Asia to numerous local series across four wheels, two wheels, and even e-sports. MotoGP continues to be an annual event, with this year’s edition taking place on the streets of KL.
Having recently been appointed as Vice President of FIM Asia, a governing body for motorcycle sport across Asia, Rhiza suggests multiple other disciplines. “For example, four-wheels, there’s circuit racing, karting, drifting, gymkhana, and rally. For two-wheels, there’s circuit racing, motocross, enduro, minibikes, etc.” The ecosystem remains active, even without a Grand Prix.
F1 didn’t fail here because the fans disappeared; it failed because the sport outgrew the way we chose to host it. Today, F1 isn’t a modest sporting event. It expects premium hospitality, global branding, and five-star infrastructure. It isn’t a race you host quietly; it demands significant investment to be successful.
Singapore recognised these issues early on, while newer hosts like Las Vegas are only now beginning to understand the serious investment needed. Rumours about Malaysia’s return to F1 surface every so often, given the new locations appearing on the race calendar, including Thailand’s intended entry in 2028.
But it’s bad news for F1 fans. According to Youth and Sports Minister Hannah Yeoh (2022-2025), the government has no plans to bid for a return due to the financial constraints and packed race calendar. It seems that the chances are quite slim for the future.
Perhaps one day, when the timing is right, the world’s fastest sport will come back to our sunny shores. Until then, Malaysia remains a country full of F1 fans without a home race, watching a sport we once hosted with confidence, now from a distance. Still passionate, knowledgeable, and waiting for the day we can cheer live again on home soil.
This article was first seen on Esquire Malaysia.
For more on the latest in luxury cars and automotive reads, click here.