By all accounts, it should have been the savior of Formula 1’s most dangerous moments—the blue-striped extreme wet tyre, designed to claw through torrents of rain and rescue a Grand Prix from cancellation. Instead, it’s become the sport’s most controversial rubber. And after years of frustration, it now seems destined for extinction.

At the heart of the storm is a paradox: the extreme wet tyre was made for safety, yet has become one of the most dangerous tools in a driver’s arsenal—not because of grip, but because of visibility.

Ask any F1 driver who’s raced in recent wet races: “It’s not the water on the track that scares us,” they’ll tell you. “It’s the wall of spray that blinds us.”
And that wall has only grown taller since the 2022 regulation shift to ground-effect cars.

A Tyre Without a Purpose?

Ever since the latest generation of F1 cars hit the grid, the extreme wet has had fewer appearances than a part-time reserve driver. When it does show up, it’s almost always behind the safety car—never during actual racing.

Take the recent Belgian Grand Prix. Torrential rain soaked the circuit before the start. The conditions screamed for extreme wets. Teams fitted the tyres. Yet, they never got the chance to race on them.

Instead, race control delayed the start until conditions were good enough for intermediates. Even then, four formation laps were required—behind the safety car, of course—before a rolling start was finally declared. No green-flag action on the blue-striped rubber.

Why? According to Pirelli’s Motorsport Director Mario Isola, the answer is clear: “At Spa, we knew it was not going to happen. It’s too dangerous at high-speed sections. Nobody wants to take unnecessary risks anymore.”

The Real Problem Isn’t Grip—It’s the Spray

Let’s be clear: the extreme wet displaces more water than any other tyre in the sport. That’s its job. But the problem isn’t the contact patch—it’s what happens above it. The massive floor and diffuser of current F1 cars lift sheets of water and blast them skyward. The result? A driver in P2 might as well be blind.

Isola doesn’t mince words: “Even at Silverstone, with working intermediates, visibility was already borderline. You can’t change this mid-season. The cars are the problem.”

The Death Knell?

So where does that leave the blue-striped tyre? In limbo, it seems—and perhaps on its final lap. Isola hinted strongly that we may not see it again this season, or possibly ever again.

“The level of spray from the X Wet is very, very high,” he says. “And it’s compromising visibility to a point where it’s not safe to race.”

That’s a startling admission from the man responsible for the tyres themselves.

Looking ahead to 2026, major car regulation changes will reshape everything—tyres included. The next-gen tyres will be slightly smaller, which may reduce spray. But Isola isn’t betting on it just yet. “We have to test. We don’t know how much spray the new cars and tyres will produce. But the current extreme wet just doesn’t work.”

From Lifesaver to Liability

How did we get here? The extreme wet was meant to be the ultimate safety net—a way to keep racing through monsoons. But its evolution hasn’t kept pace with the cars around it.

In today’s era, where safety is non-negotiable, no driver wants to race blindly at 300 km/h, no matter how good the grip is. And if you can’t see, you can’t race.

It’s not just about performance—it’s about trust. And right now, the drivers don’t trust the extreme wet.

The fans? They’re frustrated too. Nothing kills anticipation like watching formation lap after formation lap behind the safety car, only for the race to restart on a completely different compound.

If Formula 1 is to remain the pinnacle of motorsport, it needs wet tyres that actually allow racing in the wet.

What’s Next?

The 2025 season might see the tyre gather dust once more. And by 2026, the regulations may make it obsolete entirely.

Until then, one thing is clear: the blue-striped tyre, once a symbol of resilience, has become a symbol of hesitation.

F1 has always been about pushing limits—of speed, of technology, of human courage. But in the case of the extreme wet tyre, it may be time to accept a hard truth: some limits are better not pushed.