Originally published by Esquire
It’s early May, and there’s arguably no better place to be this race weekend than sitting across from Mark Reuss, president of General Motors, at Hard Rock Stadium in Miami. GM is the titan of the “Detroit Big Three,” alongside Ford and Stellantis, which make up the backbone of the American automotive industry. With a portfolio that includes Chevrolet, Buick, GMC, and Cadillac, GM’s footprint is massive. But today, the focus was singular.
We’re sitting in the Cadillac suite overlooking the paddock—the traveling village that houses a footprint for every single team on the grid—situated on the grassy field where the Dolphins traditionally kick off during football season. It’s just twenty-four hours before the Formula 1 Miami Grand Prix, where we’re about to witness a pivotal moment for the 123-year-old brand: Cadillac’s first race as the newest American team on the F1 grid, staking its claim in its own backyard.
As a 40-year veteran of GM, Reuss understands the weight of the event. He followed his father’s own three-decade tenure and stint as GM President in the early nineties, and now he is dead set on preserving Cadillac’s legacy—even if that means rebuilding the icon from the ground up. Just the day prior, at the Autosport Business Exchange, GM CEO Mary Barra was candid about the stakes, admitting that Cadillac “went through a period where we lost our way.” Now, the brand is finding its footing in a world where battery-electric range must coexist with track-bred displacement. It’s a feat that should, in theory, be manageable for a company that has a top contender for the most awarded, all-electric, luxury SUV on the market and a century-long mastery of the internal combustion engine.
But reclaiming its “Standard of the World” title requires more than just a history in precision engineering. To compete in F1, Cadillac must foster a culture that actually values the theater of the track. Typically, this is where the American experiment usually falters.
In my time covering the intersection of automotive culture and motorsports, I’ve seen this divide firsthand. At a MotoGP race in 2017, I spoke at length with Randy Mamola, the 13-time Grand Prix winner and MotoGP legend, about why motorcycle racing struggled for oxygen in the United States compared to its cult-like status in Europe and Asia. He attributed it to upbringing: people there are raised on two wheels, they grow up on them, and raise families on them.
It is a strange American paradox: we are a country literally paved by the automobile, yet we have traditionally treated motorsports as a sideshow to football, baseball, and basketball. Football alone garners18.7 millionviewers per game, while major racing series combined see only a fraction of that—NASCAR averages2.5 million, F1 hits1.3 million, and IMSA draws roughly1.1 millionfor the Rolex 24 at Daytona.
Cadillac’s timing suggests it’s spotted a crack in that cultural wall. While the NFL has the masses, F1 has captured the highest concentration of Gen Z and Millennialviewersin the country. Netflix’sDrive to Survive,theF1film starring Brad Pitt, and Apple TV’s deep-tissue integration with F1 have made open-wheel racing more accessible to the American masses. And the proof is in the calendar: the U.S. is the only country hosting three separate races—Miami, Austin, and Las Vegas. For Cadillac, this isn’t just about joining a circuit; it’s about arriving just as America is finally learning the language of the grid.
According to Adrian Atkinson, Executive Director of Global Motorsports Communications for GM, it took four and a half years for GM to officially join the F1 grid. So, he views this inaugural weekend in Miami as more than just a race; it’s a homecoming and the marker of a works team’s manifest destiny.
Works teams are owned, funded, and operated directly by an automobile manufacturer, which builds both its own chassis and its own engine. The current F1 grid is made up of a combination of works and customer teams, including Cadillac, which currently utilizes Ferrari power units shared with the likes of Haas and Sauber. But GM’s endgame? Reuss says the mission is to move engine production in-house, designed and forged on American soil. He notes that their new engine facility in North Carolina is nearing completion, and when the topic of future regulations comes up, he doesn’t blink. “Whether it’s a V6 or a V8—they [FIA] will decide,” he tells me.
“We’re new to the series, so we have a lot of respect for the investment that was made by the existing teams on the V6 hybrid that we have on the track now. But people are talking about maybe a V8 and well… we know how to make a V8,” he says with a coy smirk, shrugging his shoulders.
It’s a classic Detroit posture. To outsiders, the city is often dismissed as a relic of obsolete assembly lines. But to those inside, it is a wellspring of raw determination—an energy that famously thrives on being told ‘No.’ So, when I ask Reuss why it is so vital to bring that “Detroit vs. Everybody” ethos to a global stage, it is clear from his reaction that I strike a nerve.
“For me personally, it’s hugely important because do you know how many people have said you can’t do it, you don’t know how to do it, you’re going to fail, or good luck? Lots.” he says. “So this is a hugely personal, defiant move. But I carry with me, GM, Cadillac, and the country that we can and we will.”
The vendetta is backed by a résumé. Cadillac’s modern endurance era began with the Northstar LMP in 2000, followed by a dominant return to DPi/GTP in 2017. The company has tasted the podium at Le Mans and seen NASCAR legends like Jeff Gordon trade stock cars for Cadillac prototypes. So, when FIA President Mohammed Ben Sulayemstatedahead of Sunday’s race that it’s not a question ofifV8 engines might return to the grid, butwhen, I could envision a room of quiet celebration within the inner sanctums of Cadillac. Because while Cadillac moves into the future with its line of luxury EVs—the ESCALADE IQ, LYRIQ, and the hand-built CELESTIQ—the brand has always been exceptionally good at making V8s.
It is a storied history, one of building championship-winning engines for both the track and the road since the 1950s. We see it today in the Cadillac V-Series.R (LMDh) and the Escalade-V. And although Cadillac plans to sunset the current generation of the high-performance CT5-V Blackwing at the end of the 2026 model year, it signaled a defiant farewell just last week.
To mark the year Cadillac joined the F1 grid, the brand recently unveiled the CT5-V Blackwing F1 Collector Series. Limited to just 26 units, it is the most powerful Blackwing ever produced. It’s finished in a matte Midnight Stone Frost paint with the F1 logo discreetly embossed on the driver and passenger doors. Plus, the vehicle is tuned to deliver 685 horsepower and 673 lb-ft of torque. It will be available exclusively with a six-speed manual transmission, standing as a rare, analog artifact in a digital age.
But Cadillac’s entry into F1 is far from jumping on a bandwagon. Look at the steps surrounding this initiative and you’ll see the cultural cues of a larger disruption. The brand is trading “old money” tropes for a more relevant kind of status. Just look at their partnership with Tommy Hilfiger, a designer who bridged the gap between prep and streetwear decades prior. There’s also the Cadillac Pep Rally at Urban Jungle in the Miami Design District, which featured team driver Sergio “Checo” Perez being cheered by an adoring crowd over the weekend—followed by a performance by Fat Joe. Seeing a crowd “Lean Back” in the presence of a luxury brand that’s well over a century old felt like a shift in the matrix, but it worked.
Beyond F1, Cadillac’s footprint is expanding into every corner of the premium sports world, from the US Open to the PGA Tour. Their partnership with Redan, Jon Buscemi’s members-only golf club, is a perfect synecdoche for the new Cadillac: elite, but unpretentious. The 2026 PGA Tour Cadillac Championship, which coincided with the race weekend 14-miles southwest of Hard Rock Stadium, presented winner Cameron Young with a trophy designed by the GM Industrial Design Studio led by Vice President of Global Design, Bryan Nesbitt. The ultra-modern sculptural piece encapsulates the physics of a swing trajectory and the geometry of a golf club simultaneously—another signifier that moves away from the traditional, oversized trophy cups flanked by ornate handles that we’ve seen for decades. In its place is something sharp, technical, and intentional—much like Cadillac itself.
For years, motorsports, golf, and tennis have felt like a closed circuit and regarded as “stuffy” European playgrounds. But walking the paddock this past weekend, you could feel that gate finally cracking. For an automaker that teeters on the edge of high-prestige and real-world toughness, the company has what it takes to weather the learning curves of F1 and the aesthetic to do more than just participate. Cadillac has the street cred to persevere and the sheer gravity to pull the rest of the culture along with them.
Mara is a creative director with Hearst Autos. Her writing has appeared inRoad & Track,Car and Driver,Autoweek,Harper’s Bazaar,Esquire,Condé Nast Traveler, and more.
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