They still pack grandstands in red. The flags still ripple like flames.
Yet every autumn since 2008, the season has ended without a Ferrari title parade, highlighting the Ferrari championship drought since 2008.
The wait is now a generation long. Their last constructors’ crown came in 2008; their last drivers’ title was Kimi Räikkönen’s in 2007.
Those two dates sit like bookends to a drought that no one in Maranello imagined would last this long.
Lost edge in the hybrid years
The modern story starts in 2014, when the V6 turbo-hybrid era rewired the sport. Mercedes arrived with a power unit and packaging concept that set the competitive baseline for eight straight constructors’ titles.
Ferrari chased that benchmark for years, often quick on Sundays, rarely quick enough across a season. The Scuderia’s deficit wasn’t just horsepower; it was an ecosystem—energy recovery, deployment, and aero built around a mighty PU—that took too long to match.
Even when Ferrari built fast cars see 2017 and 2018 Mercedes’ relentless development closed doors. Vettel led both title races early, only for the balance to slide by mid-season.
Germany 2018, where Vettel crashed out from the lead, is remembered as a gut-punch; a handful of moments that turned campaigns from credible to doomed.
Execution wounds that never quite healed
You can circle painful nights on a calendar. Abu Dhabi 2010 is one: Ferrari covered Webber, not Vettel, and Alonso was stranded behind Vitaly Petrov as the championship slipped away in slow motion. Strategy didn’t lose every point, but it lost enough.
Fast-forward to 2022, the first year of ground-effect cars. Ferrari started hot, then bled momentum through unforced errors and reliability.
Monaco was a maze of mixed calls that dropped Charles Leclerc from control to fourth. Spain and Baku brought turbo/MGU-H and PU failures that undercut a title push before summer.
When a top-team’s bad days are this costly, arithmetic becomes merciless by October.
The pattern isn’t just about strategy sheets. Ferrari’s peaks have been real—dominant poles, brave stints, perfect pit work—and yet the valleys arrive on the weekends that define seasons. Champions turn those into damage-limitation P2s; Ferrari too often walked away empty-handed.
Controversy, reset, and the long climb back
In late 2019, Ferrari’s straight-line speed prompted scrutiny that ended in a confidential settlement with the FIA. No rule breach was proven, but the arrangement—and the subsequent power deficit—shadowed a painful 2020 season, their worst in four decades by Ferrari’s own admission.
The lesson was brutal: whatever advantage they had, perceived or otherwise, evaporated overnight.
Leadership churn added turbulence. Since 2008, the Scuderia has cycled through team principals—Domenicali, Mattiacci, Arrivabene, Binotto before handing the keys to Frédéric Vasseur in 2023.
Stability matters in a cap era; Ferrari is betting on it, extending Vasseur’s deal in 2025. The roster reset is real on track, too: Carlos Sainz snapped Red Bull’s streak at the 2024 Australian GP, and Leclerc finally won Monaco in front of his home crowd.
Those wins showed a cleaner, calmer Ferrari—proof of concept, not yet a dynasty.
So why no title since 2008? Because in modern F1, you don’t just need a fast car—you need a season without soft spots.
Across eras and regulations, Ferrari has found speed and storylines, but not twelve flawless months. The tifosi will keep turning cities red anyway.
The question is whether the next regulation shake-up and a steadier hand finally turns all that noise into silverware.
