Girlhood, Boyhood, and How Liam Payne's Death Made Me Reflect on Them Both.

By Estelle Clapham

CONTENT WARNING: This piece is written from my perspective and contains Mild coarse language - one or more characters might use expletives that are in common use.

About a week on, I am trying to still wrap my head around the death of Liam Payne. A man I never knew, never met and never thought would have an impact on me.

I had the television on in the background as I was running around the house trying to get ready for a trip when the news report came in live. In the mayhem of me trying to shove my toiletries into a clear snaplock bag, I stopped in my tracks and gasped an audible sound I didn’t even know my body could produce. Tears pricked my eyes and I stood in silence, trying to process what the actual fuck was going on. I then convinced myself that my reaction was irrational, chalking it up to exhaustion from balancing work and travel.

But the tears tried to return a few hours later, as I flew to Sydney for a Girls on Track event. There, in the most inconvenient of places, I found myself wanting to cry but fighting back. Tears welling, probably unsettling the passenger next to me. It felt right, though, to immerse myself in the feeling, and I spent the flight listening to all of his and One Direction’s music. It was a cathartic experience, bringing me back to a place I hadn’t visited in years.

For the past week, I’ve been reflecting on why Liam’s death affected me so deeply. I’ve dissected my emotions, trying to make sense of them. I felt a bit silly at first, but I knew I wasn’t alone in this. I reached out to friends who I knew wouldn’t judge me, hoping they could understand the weight of what I was feeling.

What I’ve come to realise is that the world, as it is right now, is emotionally exhausting. Every day, it drains a little more from us. I have the privilege of watching it all unfold from the comfort of my home, but even then, it’s overwhelming. Music has always been my escape, my source of pure joy. Losing someone who contributed to that joy—someone tied to the soundtrack of part of my youth—felt like the tipping point. One Direction’s music, whatever you want to call it, transported me back to simpler, more carefree times. Times of girlhood.

As I sat with these feelings, I realised I wasn’t just mourning Liam Payne’s death; I was mourning my youth. I was also mourning his. I have vivid memories from those years—some of the best and worst moments of my life. And now, looking back, I mourn the time I wasted on bullshit, insecurities that seemed all-consuming then. Not being pretty enough, talented enough, or measuring up to what I thought I "should" be.

But more than that, what hit me hardest was the world’s lack of empathy. I’ve known this for a while, of course, but it still catches me off guard every time. After his death, I found myself wondering about the people who published those intrusive photos of his body. Did they truly need the money that badly, or had they lost their humanity?

Through all of this, I realised something about girlhood. Girlhood, for me, isn’t just for your youth—it’s an ever-evolving community. The day after Liam’s death, I was surrounded by young women at the Girls on Track event, and I felt it again—this sense of belonging. Girlhood is where we show up for each other, without shame. I might have hidden my love for One Direction back when it wasn’t “cool,” but I never lost what they gave me: a sense of unity, a shared experience.

This reflection on girlhood led me to think about boyhood, too. Boyhood feels different. While girlhood welcomes others in and celebrates them, boyhood often feels exclusive. Girlhood positively embraces men and boys, they are almost celebrated within Girlhood. One Direction’s rise allowed women to celebrate boyhood—we bought the albums, we streamed the music, and we celebrated their achievements. In return, they allowed us into their world, letting us celebrate their mothers, sisters, and girlfriends. But it feels like boyhood doesn’t always return the favour. 

We see the same thing in motorsport. Women have had a positive impact on the sport, but we’re still faced with people who resent our presence. “Why do women always have to invade our spaces?” I’ve seen comments like this. But the truth is, men have always been part of ours, and we’ve never had an issue with it. 

After Liam’s death, it was women who shielded his family from the paparazzi, standing between them and the cameras. We showed up. We always do.

I’m not here to analyse Liam Payne’s life or debate his character. What matters is his impact on girlhood. For millions of girls like me, his music—and One Direction’s music—became part of the soundtrack of our youth. It gave us joy, solace, and a sense of community. Through them, we found a space where we were seen and understood, a space that, even years later, remains with us.

Boyhood and girlhood might coexist, but it’s clear that girlhood has always celebrated others, making room for everyone—even when we aren’t always given the same in return.

What I learned reading vile online comments about F1

By Estelle Clapham

CONTENT WARNING: The content covered in this article can be confronting. While I do not believe in highlighting hate & toxicity, it is important to understand the reality of online culture in order to change it. I recommend not reading any further if you do not wish to read examples of hate and abuse.

I have been on a journey as a long-time F1 supporter to understand why our culture and fan culture specifically, is not always a kind one. I was triggered to act when reports came out of the 2022 Austrian Grand Prix of fans being abused primarily in underrepresented groups, something I had experienced just twelve months prior. That is when I connected with Areto Labs, who not only hold the same values as me, to see a change in the world of sport and online abuse, but they also have the incredible technology to back it up. Partnering was a no-brainer and I knew instantly that our findings would be eye-opening. 

When we started tracking messages online, I knew that I was going to be confronted with some pretty toxic online behaviour. What I hadn’t prepared myself for was an unravelling of some extremely dark and concerning posts that have emotionally affected me in ways that I don’t think I will ever forget. I was forced to reflect. Is this our community? Is this a sport I want to support, one that has fans that not only threaten the lives of others but are on the verge of extremely dangerous? Yes, I know. It’s NOT ALL FANS, but it’s way too many. 

The truth is, I am an empath. I take on a lot emotionally so I’ve doubted if this job was for me.  I leaned into my strength and resilience, often reminding myself that I think anyone, with any sort of moral compass, surely should have the same reactions that I am having, right?

Social Media can connect people and be a platform for laughter, education, and inspiration but it can also be a pit of absolute darkness. The most shocking post that I ever came across was a doctored image created by a fan that they shared on Twitter. I could not believe the image hadn’t been reported and removed instantly by Twitter. The image was a familiar one to anyone that lived through 2020, an image that is burnt into my memory. It was an image of George Floyd’s murder but in his place, Lewis Hamilton’s face and Max Verstappen kneeling on his neck. My reaction was a physical one, the same reaction I had when seeing that image back in 2020. This is no longer just a reflection of sport; this is a reflection of society. 

Only 14 years ago, in 2008, at the Spanish Grand Prix, F1 fans were coming to races in blackface and mocking Lewis Hamilton and his family. Instead of rallying behind him and calling out this abhorrent behaviour, many within the F1 paddock explained that what had happened was not a racist attack, but just fans getting “overly excited”. 

"I think it's all nonsense," Bernie Ecclestone, the previous owner of F1, said on BBC Radio at the time. "I don't think it was anything to do with racism. There were a few people in Spain and that was probably beginning as a joke rather than anything abusive. I think people look and read into things that are not there. I don't see why people should have been [insulted by it]. These things are people expressing themselves."

Ex-F1 Driver David Coulthard also at the time labelled the controversy "a non-event". He said: "It is trying to be built into something much bigger than it is. What happened in Spain because of those four guys, I'm sorry, but it hardly represents a nation of racists. Formula one may have many failings, but it does not come close to the racism you see in people's first love, and that's football.”

In my eyes, the line is clear. The doctored image posted on Twitter in 2023 is racist - and so was blackface in 2008. However, it doesn’t seem the F1 community has agreed. So, where is the line? At what point does Freedom of Speech become Hate Speech? As a community, we need to agree on standards and keep each other accountable to them. 

The day that I saw this doctored image, here in Australia a Noongar-Yamatji child, Cassius Turvey, was murdered in a racist fuelled attack as he was walking home from school. He was 15. When the police were asked about the situation, part of their response was that “he was at the wrong place, at the wrong time”. He was just walking home from school. People jumped to social media to give their opinions about the murder. 

So, it begs the question, what role does sport play in society? The truth is, a lot more than people are willing to admit. The resurgence of the mullet hairstyle in Australia (as ugly as it may arguably be) is evidence that one sportsperson has the power to influence an entire generation! You get the standard response that people don’t want to be “too political” in sports. However, this goes beyond politics, and becomes a conversation about human rights. When governments stop putting human rights into their political agendas, the lines will no longer be blurred about what is political and what is protecting a human and their basic rights to live in peace and above all, in safety. 

F1 seems to have exhausted tactics around encouraging good fan behaviour. After the death of George Floyd, they launched the “we race as one” campaign including a hashtag of the same name. That came and went and it felt like not much within the sport had changed. When the reports of abuse started coming out of the 2022 Austrian GP they tried another campaign, the #driveitout campaign. Again, it came and went and I am still trying to figure out what impact this had. I don’t think that the F1 organisation should be responsible for every single fan that comes into their lives but I do believe they have a responsibility to be actively working on making sure that fans are safe both in person and online. 

This progress got pushed back even further when earlier this year FIA president Mohammed Ben Sulayem presented a ruling that stated that drivers were banned from making “political, religious and personal statements” without prior approval from the sport’s governing body.

It was received with mixed reactions with most of the drivers voicing concerns about the ruling. Two-time world champion and current F1 driver Max Verstappen said he believed the ban was “not necessary”. “I’m normally not that outspoken because first of all it’s tough as a racing driver to be fully committed to that in terms of going into everything and making sure that you know all the facts. But I don’t think it’s necessary because you’re basically making sure people aren’t allowed to speak anymore, which I think we should be allowed.”

It was reported that current F1 driver Valtteri Bottas had spoken to Swedish media and Sky Sports news saying that it was like the FIA were trying to “control” drivers.

He said “but normally when we’ve been speaking it’s to try and make the world a better place. That’s my view. I don’t think it’s [the ruling] necessary…but that’s Formula 1”

David Coulthard came out in support of the ruling saying “and it’s a bit like an acceptance speech at the Oscars. If everyone uses the opportunity to make a political statement, there is no issue that is not important to someone. So we either have to mention everything, or maybe it’s better not to say anything at all and concentrate on the sport”. 

I would echo Valtteri Bottas in saying that the drivers that have used their platforms, have done so with the intention of making the world a better place. I would also argue that the drivers have never used their platforms to drive political agendas, promote political candidates or change election results whilst representing F1 over a race weekend. In regards to David Coulthard's comments, “saying nothing at all” is contributing to the issue we currently find ourselves in and is evident in our findings of online abuse. “Saying nothing at all” is why we have made barely any progress since the 2008 blackface incident. We were encouraged to say “nothing at all” then and are encouraged to do so now. Perhaps if the ownership was on the FIA and F1 to take action, create a supportive environment and addressed a lot of these issues, the drivers wouldn’t be the ones needing to take a stand (or a knee). 

Every week during this process, I gathered data from Areto Labs and would report on the findings. I approached this initially with interest but soon found out that this was interesting, yes, but above all just heartbreaking. I tried to make sure that when reporting our findings, I led with facts. However, seeing the use of the “N” word over and over again, is and was, deeply depressing and emotional. Seeing the term “slave” used to describe Lewis Hamilton and other people of colour became unbearable. I thought to myself, where the hell am I? How do people still use this language in 2023?

I read Lewis Hamilton’s article in the September 2022 edition of Vanity Fair. In it, he discussed that when he wrote his autobiography that he felt he needed to say that the sport wasn’t racist when in fact, from the beginning of his karting days, he had experienced racism at almost every event. “Those early years, we were just always trying to fit in,” he said. “My Dad’s just: Don’t talk about that, just blend in.” 

Although I have focused on race as an example, this is not the only time we have seen attacks on the underrepresented. We consistently see abuse toward the LGBTQI+ community, people with disabilities, women are not left out of this picture either. Once again, we look to the representatives within F1 to set the standard for the community. 

When Susie Wolff, through her own success, drove for Williams in FP1 at the 2014 British Grand Prix, Sergio Perez was asked by Spanish media what he thought about it. To which he responded with remarks such as “imagine being beaten by a woman. That would be it. It’s better that she goes to the kitchen”. Perez apologised and Wolff accepted it as a bad joke that was taken out of context. However, I do wonder, firstly what prompts such a response? Is it the culture that we’ve created in the first place that this kind of response is considered “humour”?  Secondly, what responsibility do these figures have to make sure that they aren’t perpetuating stereotypes? Yes, between friends perhaps this remark may have been regarded as nothing more than a joke, but when said to a global media company, you are setting a standard of how a woman’s success is viewed in the sport. Success that we have fought very hard for and continue to fight for. The reason why I bring this up is that one of the biggest comments that I have seen online directed toward women in the sport is “get back in the kitchen”. So did what Perez say back in 2014 have any influence on what is being said by fans now?

They say that a fish rots from its head down. I am in no way saying that F1 is a rotting fish but I suppose I use this analogy to show the negative effect.  I believe that the fans are not buying these superficial, hollow approaches of hashtags and F1 saying that they will change the culture but without providing any tangible actions. No one is taking their attempts seriously so the people most vulnerable are still being attacked and the abusers are getting progressively worse because there are no repercussions for their actions. This responsibility then falls on the people who are most affected by it. This is why I, like many, have taken action into my own hands. I wanted to show that the data does not lie. In doing so, I generated far more hate. People placing blame and abuse on each other, all under a post showing that actually, a lot of this abuse is borderline dangerous. The amount of abuse I was receiving personally in my DM’s and within comments was scary. It was something I hadn’t been subjected to but it was also confusing when all I was trying to do was highlight the data in the hope of changing attitudes for the better. I even tried reasoning with some people, I tried to ask them to just be kind but it didn’t work. I realised quickly that this beast is bigger than me. If fans don’t see what the problem is here, I fear that all of this hard work of trying to change the culture is, dare I say, for nothing. Something is not translating, and I don’t know what it is, but I do believe that F1 has a responsibility to action a plan on how to combat this once and for all. 

So yes, this process has been deeply upsetting and I am sure that anyone who has been following along would be feeling much the same, however, I hope that what comes of this will not be so much doom and gloom. Although it’s evident from our findings that there is a lot of toxic, abusive behaviour online, there is also a small community of strong, powerful individuals that are keen to make a change. What F1 and the FIA haven’t realised and unfortunately haven’t utilised, is the extremely powerful community (of dare I say, predominantly women) that are actively banding together to change the sport for the better. I am absolutely blown away by the number of people who are taking time out of their lives to actively work towards a better future for F1, not just for themselves but for every person who has never felt accurately represented or heard.

So although we aren’t where we need to be, I’m encouraged by the fact that if F1 doesn't take the initiative to create change soon, they might have some strong-minded individuals knocking on their door.