Lando Norris had no need to apologise to Franco Colapinto. In fact, he should have stuck to his guns.

Formula 1 is supposed to be a ruthless, high-pressure sport, yet its drivers increasingly seem expected to behave like pop stars: polished, cautious and endlessly careful about saying the wrong thing.

The slightest criticism can trigger a backlash, followed by an apology and an explanation for having the audacity to speak honestly.

Norris’ original reaction to the Azerbaijan Grand Prix was precisely that — a reaction. Colapinto locked up at Turn 1 during the first Safety Car restart, went deep and collected both Alpine team-mate Pierre Gasly and Norris.

In the immediate aftermath, Norris was understandably frustrated and made his feelings known. He later apologised, admitting: “It was wrong of me.”

But was it?

There is a growing tendency in F1 to confuse competitive emotion with misconduct. Drivers are racing at extraordinary speeds, fighting for positions that can determine championships, careers and millions of pounds.

When something goes wrong, expecting them to emerge from the cockpit and deliver a perfectly measured corporate statement is unrealistic.

Of course, drivers should be accountable for what they say. But there is a difference between genuinely offensive comments and a frustrated competitor criticising another driver after being taken out of a race.

The bigger issue is what we want Formula 1 drivers to be. If they are expected to show no emotion, never criticise rivals and immediately apologise whenever their words attract attention, then Formula One has turned into another carefully managed celebrity industry.

Norris does not need to be rude. He does not need to be reckless with his words. But he should be allowed to be a racing driver.