In 1977, a machine appeared at Britain's Silverstone that the paddock nicknamed "the kettle." The Renault RS01 whistled with turbo boost, spewed clouds of black smoke, and broke down every three laps. Jean-Pierre Jabouille retired — as he did at the next eleven races in a row. But by 1979, at the French Grand Prix in Dijon-Prenois, this "kettle" won its first race. The monopoly of the naturally aspirated Cosworth DFV, which had held Formula 1 since 1967, collapsed. An arms race began where victory was bought not so much by driver skill as by money for throwaway engines. By 1986, a qualifying lap cost $100,000 — the price of one engine that lived two or three laps and put out 1400 horsepower.
Nelson Piquet called qualifying in a turbo car an attempt to defuse a bomb while sitting on it. BMW M12/13 engines spun up to 5.5 bar boost — pressure at which a cast-iron block from a 1.5-liter four-cylinder engine turned into an artillery piece. Exhaust temperature reached 1050°C. Pistons melted after three laps. The turbine glowed red-hot. Teams poured into the tanks not gasoline but a mixture of toluene and ethanol with an octane rating of 102+ — almost aviation fuel that detonated with such force that engines had to be rebuilt after each qualifying session.
1986 became the apotheosis of madness: for the first time in history, every car on the starting grid carried a turbo engine. No naturally aspirated engines. Honda, BMW, Ferrari, TAG-Porsche — each manufacturer pushed its own version of controlled explosion. Qualifying sessions turned into a lottery: the driver went out on track, switched to "kill the engine in two laps" mode, and prayed the piston wouldn't melt mid-flying lap. If everything went to plan, the car posted a time. If not — a cloud of white smoke and a six-figure bill.
Race engines worked in a more forgiving mode — 820 hp versus qualifying 1400 hp — but even there reliability was a matter of luck. In 1985, teams got a limit of 220 liters of fuel per race. In 1986 — 195 liters. Engineers learned to count every gram: drivers raced not at the limit of power but at the limit of economy, balancing between speed and the risk of running out of fuel a lap before the finish.
Mansour Ojjeh, an Arab businessman and owner of the TAG brand (Techniques d'Avant Garde), put 1 million German marks into a project that was supposed to be called Porsche. Hans Mezger, the legendary engineer from Weissach, designed a V6 with two turbines — but officially Porsche didn't want to show up in Formula 1. So the engine was called Porsche-TAG TTE P01, and later just TAG. McLaren got an engine that in 1984 developed 870 hp in qualifying and 820 hp in the race. Niki Lauda and Alain Prost won three championships in a row — 1984, 1985, 1986.
By 1987, this engine revved to 12,600 rpm and put out 1060 hp in qualifying mode. Compression ratio — 7.5:1, to avoid exploding from detonation. Boost — adjustable, from 2.5 to 5 bar depending on mode. Control electronics — primitive by modern standards but revolutionary for the eighties: fuel injection, ignition, boost pressure — all controlled by a processor that fit in a suitcase-sized box.
The engine guzzled fuel so much that in 1987 the FIA introduced a pop-off valve at 4 bar and cut the limit to 195 liters. Honda immediately recalculated injection maps: their V6 RA-167E put out 1010 hp at 12,000 rpm on 4 bar boost. This was the end of the unlimited boost era. Engines stopped being grenades — but their power still exceeded everything Formula 1 had seen before or since.
1988 — the season when McLaren with the Honda RA-168E engine won 15 out of 16 races. Gerhard Berger in a Ferrari took the only victory at Monza when both McLarens retired. Everything else — total domination. Honda raised the compression ratio from 7.4:1 to 9.4:1, raised revs to 14,000 rpm, and squeezed 30% thermal efficiency out of a liter and a half — at the limit of what was possible for an internal combustion engine of that time.
But the FIA was already tightening the noose. Fuel limit — 150 liters. Boost pressure — 2.5 bar. Qualifying monsters were history. Engines became more economical but also weaker. Honda kept winning — but this was a victory of engineering over regulation, not revolution.
1989 — the finale. The FIA banned turbos completely. New regulation: naturally aspirated 3.5-liter V10s. Overnight, the entire technological base — turbines, intercoolers, boost control systems, exotic fuel — turned into museum exhibits. Teams that had spent millions developing turbo engines started from scratch. Ferrari, Honda, Renault — all returned to simple naturally aspirated engines that put out half the power and didn't require coffin money for each qualifying session.
While the West was cranking boost to 5.5 bar, the USSR launched a secret project "Moskvitch-Formula" (1983-1987). Goal — build a turbo engine for a prestige race in Moscow, show the world that Soviet engineering wasn't falling behind. They took a base block from a Moskvitch, welded on a turbine, started testing. The engine exploded. Pistons melted. The turbine disintegrated after ten laps.
The problem wasn't the idea — the problem was materials science. In the West they used nickel alloys, ceramic bearings, titanium connecting rods. In the USSR such materials weren't available in the open. Control electronics — also behind seven seals. Engineers tried to copy Western solutions, but without access to technology it was like assembling a computer from vacuum tubes.
The project was shut down in 1987 when it became clear that catching up with the West wouldn't work. No races, no demonstrations. Documents were classified. Prototypes were cut up for scrap. Soviet Formula 1 remained a dream on paper — while in the West the turbo era was already preparing for sunset.
The FIA explained the ban with safety and costs. Official version: teams are spending millions, small teams can't keep up with the race, the gap between leaders and backmarkers is becoming a chasm. But the real reason was simpler: turbo engines became uncontrollable. Qualifying turned into roulette. Races — into fuel economy. Spectators wanted to see drivers fighting, but got engineers fighting thermodynamics.
By 1989, the turbo era ended not because the technology exhausted itself, but because regulators decided: enough. Naturally aspirated 3.5-liter V10s put out 650-700 hp — half what qualifying turbo engines did in 1986. But they were cheaper, more reliable, and more understandable to spectators. Formula 1 returned to racing where the driver won, not the team accountant counting the cost of blown engines.
Turbos returned in 2014 — but these were already hybrids with energy recovery systems, fuel restrictions, and strict regulatory frameworks. The wild era of 1400-horsepower grenades living two laps was left in the past. Nelson Piquet no longer sits on a bomb. Now he sits on a calculator.