Formula 1 is among the most technologically advanced sports in the world. It is also, structurally, an intellectual property (IP) business. Its commercial architecture has the power to transform a city, as the recent Miami Grand Prix demonstrated, with its impact continuing to reverberate across South Florida weeks after the race concluded.
Strip away the cars and the circuits and what remains is a portfolio. A deep bench of active trademarks across the sport, the teams, and the drivers. A global licensing operation that monetizes nearly every commercial surface. Sponsorship inventory priced with surgical precision. And almost no patent activity at the core: Formula One Licensing B.V., the entity that controls the F1 mark, holds no patents of record. That structure is deliberate. In F1, the technology is downstream. The IP is the product.
First, the regulatory architecture of Formula 1 makes patenting counterproductive. A patented competitive advantage can be reviewed and engineered out through Fédération Internationale de l’Automobile (FIA) technical regulations, as early as the following season — neutralizing the very edge the patent was meant to protect.
Second, patent protection requires public disclosure. In a sport where engineering margins are measured in thousandths of a second, disclosure operates as a roadmap for competitors. Trade secret protection aligns far better with the competitive dynamics of the paddock.
Third, the pace of innovation in F1 outruns the pace of patent prosecution. By the time a patent issues, the underlying technology may already be obsolete or affected by regulatory change.
What Miami witnessed is the F1 model in operation. Over a grand prix weekend at the Hard Rock Stadium complex, the entire IP structure of the sport was on display. Formula One Licensing B.V. and its affiliates control the F1 name and the global broadcast rights — the rights that delivered millions of viewers to a venue most of them hadn’t heard of three years ago. The track operator licenses the race designation and runs its own brand operation alongside it. Sponsors buy specific commercial real estate on cars, suits, helmets, and signage, each piece negotiated independently. Each of the 10 constructor teams operates its own trademark portfolio, livery, and merchandise program. And every driver sits on top of it all: a brand business stacked on a brand business.
Five layers of IP. One race weekend. None of it accidental.
The driver layer is where this model resonates most for the broader sports business. A modern F1 driver is not simply an athlete. He is an IP and licensing platform. The contrast among current drivers is instructive.
Lewis Hamilton operates the most developed driver-IP structure in the sport. His holding company controls more than 100 trademark registrations across nearly every commercial category that matters — clothing, cosmetics, jewelry, entertainment, film, financial services, his charitable foundation, and his personal venture entity. His name. His signature. His racing number, registered in multiple configurations. Even his catchphrases. The coverage extends across dozens of jurisdictions. The result is a brand business with a Formula 1 driver at the center, rather than a Formula 1 driver with a brand attached. Whatever happens to his racing career, the underlying asset endures.
Max Verstappen has registered the fundamentals. His name in major markets, his logo, the core merchandise classes. Defensive coverage rather than expansive, but well ahead of what most professional athletes hold anywhere in the world.
Andrea Kimi Antonelli, who won the Miami Grand Prix, appears to hold no trademark registrations in his name at this time — not in the United States, not in the European Union, not in any jurisdiction a public search reaches. He is 19 years old. The commercial value of his name and image is being captured by the teams and partners around him.
The gap between Hamilton’s portfolio and Antonelli’s is the story of how modern sports value gets built — or doesn’t. It is not a function of talent or trajectory. It is a function of who started the protective work, and when.
The implications extend well beyond Formula 1. The American sports landscape is full of athletes operating from the Antonelli position — professional athletes whose team contracts bundle rights of publicity without meaningful carve-outs, college athletes building NIL brands reactively after the first offer arrives, agents treating trademark protection as something to address once revenue materializes. By that point, much of the brand value has already been captured by parties who moved earlier.
The athletes who will hold genuine leverage over the next decade are the ones who treat their IP the way Formula 1 treats its IP: as the asset, not the afterthought. Brand frame first. Trademarks early. Licensing structures in place before deals surface. Image rights carved out, not absorbed. The work is protective and proactive, or it isn’t worth doing.
So what is Formula 1 actually selling? Not the race. The rights to it.
The IP infrastructure that makes the Formula 1 season possible will continue rolling from city to city, transforming venues into global commercial platforms along the way. The question for every athlete, agent, and sports business watching is whether they treat it as entertainment — or as a model. Because in Formula 1, the next race, the next market, and the next licensing opportunity are already underway.
Janet F. Moreira, Esq. is a board-certified intellectual property attorney and partner at Caldera Law, where she represents athletes, brands, and creators on trademarks, NIL, and licensing. Geraldine Orlando is a patent attorney and associate at Caldera Law.
