We’re halfway through 2025. We’ve had wet races, red flags, strategy collapses, and five different podium sitters who weren’t even on the grid five years ago. And yet, amid all that shifting ground, a few things haven’t moved at all: mainly, a handful of teams that promised more and delivered less.
This isn’t about underdogs, this is about the should-be contenders. The teams with history, money, wind tunnels, and season preview hype reels that make you believe ‘this year might be different.’ Newsflash, it isn’t. Let’s talk about the ones still underachieving, still overpromising, and somehow still telling us to trust the process.
We are now three seasons into the Mercedes ‘rebuild.’ The porpoising era is dead. The zero-pod excuse is gone. Lewis Hamilton is in Ferrari red. And yet, somehow, the car is still allergic to consistency. George Russell keeps turning in gritty drives for P7 like it’s 2022 again. Andrea Kimi Antonelli flashes brilliance, then disappears into midfield traffic like it’s quicksand. The upgrades come, the pace doesn’t. Every post-race debrief still includes the word encouraging. This team isn’t in freefall, it’s just stuck; which might be worse.
Aston Martin knows the feeling. Remember when Fernando Alonso podiumed five times in the first six races of 2023 and had the entire grid wondering if they’d finally cracked it? That window’s long gone. In 2025, they’re back to being a team that’s occasionally interesting, but never dangerous. Alonso’s still dragging it into the points, but there’s no magic left. And Lance Stroll? He finally beat Alonso at Silverstone, and no one cared. This was supposed to be the year the ‘project’ paid off. Instead, it feels like a tech startup that peaked in beta.
Alpine hasn’t even peaked. They’ve changed names, bosses, drivers, and power unit philosophy, but nothing screams progress. At this point, the only thing more unpredictable than their pace is whether Pierre Gasly and Franco Colapinto will high-five or hit each other. They’re still hovering in the lower end of the top 10 on good weekends, and completely gone on bad ones. You’d think a factory team with Renault backing could crack into the mix, but instead, they’re just present. Nobody expects them to fight for wins, but could they at least stop fighting themselves?
The Racing Bulls have shown flashes. Isack Hadjar keeps sneaking into the points, Liam Lawson finally scored in Austria, and Yuki Tsunoda is now in the main Red Bull seat. The problem isn’t the talent, it’s the loop. Every few races, there’s a new narrative about who might get promoted, who might get dropped, and who said the wrong thing on the radio. For a team designed to develop drivers, it often looks more like a holding pattern. The raw performance? Not bad. But the identity? Still missing.
And then there’s Williams, forever the ‘better than last year’ team. Carlos Sainz brought experience, Alex Albon brought grit, and together they’ve made the car look more competent than it is, but that’s the problem. It still isn’t competitive often enough. They’ve improved, yes (they’re not 20th every weekend anymore), but the bar is still low, and they’re still clearing it by inches. For a team with this much history and a serious rebuild underway, “not last” shouldn’t be the ceiling.
Even Nico Hulkenberg got a podium this year. It was one of those wonderfully chaotic afternoons where the timing gods smiled and a Sauber ended up in champagne territory. A great story, a well-earned result, and so far absolutely nothing more. The car went straight back to being anonymous the next weekend. If anything, the moment only sharpened the contrast. One spark, no fire.
Every team on this list will point to data, correlation improvements, simulation gains, and the right direction. That’s fine, but at some point, all the potential in the world has to turn into actual performance. And still, they talk about the positives, about alignment and about future-facing roadmaps. As if there’s virtue in being almost good. As if the numbers on the timing sheet will eventually catch up to the optimism in the press briefings.
But Formula 1 doesn’t care about intention. It remembers the impact. It remembers the ones who figured it out, clawed their way up, found something real under pressure. Everyone else gets blurred into the midfield, their stories replaced, their potential rebranded for next year’s trailer. We’re not halfway through the season anymore. We’re halfway through the patience.Eventually, even the benefit of the doubt runs out.
Written by Krystal.
Edited by Alexandra.
Featured Image Credit: GETTY IMAGES via bbc.co.uk
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