
News last week of Supercars requiring changes to two Erebus Motorsport-built chassis delivered to Dick Johnson Racing shone a spotlight on a subject that’s been a source of intrigue since Gen3 began.
While there are several outstanding questions about Supercars’ apparent crackdown on differences between Gen3 chassis, one comes with an increasingly clear answer.
When is a control chassis not really a control chassis? When they’re built by different organisations working to rules that are open to interpretation.
Erebus flew out of the blocks at the start of the Gen3 era and proudly pointed to its chassis – meticulously built by fabricator Jimmy White in Mount Gambier, South Australia – as a key part of its success.
While the chassis is of control design and the method of construction intended to be regulated down to the details of welding processes, Erebus has not shied away from spruiking its prowess.
Asked directly by Speedcafe in December if he believes the Erebus chassis provides a performance advantage, the team’s CEO Barry Ryan said: “We believe there is.
“The amount of time and money we spent to make sure we could make those chassis as perfect as they could be…
“People can believe it or not, it doesn’t matter. We believe they’re the best in the category and if people want to buy them, they can buy them.”
As Ryan suggests, this is not black and white.
What is an actual performance advantage, what is pride stemming from a commitment to fine craftsmanship and what is hype designed to sell chassis is unclear.
Erebus’ stance had been somewhat vindicated by newly inked customer deals with DJR – apparently at the behest of defecting star driver Brodie Kostecki – and the Blanchard Racing Team.
Speedcafe put Erebus’ advantage claim to Triple Eight boss Jamie Whincup earlier this month, before the Erebus/DJR chassis inspection took place.
“I strongly believe the T8 chassis is better than anything else in the field,” retorted the seven-time champion, whose Triple Eight team sells chassis to PremiAir and Team 18.
“Of course, all chassis are made to the same spec, but you want chassis the most consistent and we’ve got a lot more robotics than anybody else in the [local] industry.
“That’s why I strongly believe ours are better.”
These comments again reflect the nature of sport and business – each team pushing to be better than its rivals and, in these cases, benefit financially through selling that to customers.
But wait a moment.
Wasn’t the whole point of Gen3 to create a control mechanical platform, giving the drivers and teams equal equipment with which they would then go and race?
The costly engineering masturbation, as BTCC boss Alan Gow once so eloquently put it, was meant to give way to driver skill, set-up smarts and strategy calls.
It’s understood that a single supplier for the control chassis was part of the original Gen3 plans.

Pace Innovations appeared to be in the box seat for such a deal, given the Paul Ceprnich-owned business is tied to most of the field already and supplies the tubing used for all chassis.
The exact reason this did not happen is lost somewhere in the COVID haze during which Triple Eight took the reins of the Gen3 design.
Triple Eight geared up with a new, off-site manufacturing facility and high-end welding robot designed to pump out car after car.
Ultimately Gen3 went ahead with four accredited builders – Erebus, Triple Eight, Pace and Walkinshaw Andretti United – and an ongoing question mark over how equal they all really are.
There are of course strong arguments as to why chassis construction should remain a control specification item, but without a control supplier.
The spirit of competition is clearly one. The quest to be able to build a chassis better than anyone else’s has long been a key part of the sport’s DNA.
There are logistical and cost arguments too. A single supplier for any control item can bring economies of scale benefits but also price blowouts due to a monopolised market.
Part of the cost of open competition, though, is currently being borne by Supercars and its scramble to keep on top of this area.
Once again, its regulations – made up of its actual rulebook, various specification documents and haphazardly delivered technical bulletins – appear to have been left wanting.
In fairness to the technical staff of Supercars, the previous management that devised Gen3 was the one that set this difficult mandate.
With so much of the cars locked down, the seemingly smallest loose ends have the potential to cause major disturbance – whether they are scientifically proven or not.
That lesson was painfully learnt with aerodynamic and engine parity between the manufacturers. And now it appears to be rearing its head with chassis.
Could you imagine Carrera Cup being run with chassis built in four different workshops, thousands of kilometres apart, and Porsche running around trying to make sure they’re all the same?
It defies logic.
Even NASCAR went with a single supplier for its current Next Gen chassis. That’s required a major cultural shift within the NASCAR industry and hasn’t come without its pain.
The control specifications of Gen3 also required a mindset shift within the Supercars paddock, but one that did not stretch quite as far as it could have.
It’s the same process the sport went through 10 years earlier with the Car of the Future, which introduced a control specification chassis and rear suspension, but left the front-end free for development.
Gen3 again had a great headline mandate and yet in many ways has fallen over in the execution. When one spotfire is put out, the next one seems to appear.
The horse has bolted when it comes to the supply model for Gen3 chassis, of which there are already around 50 in existence.
Supercars’ job now is to get on top of this area with robust regulations and inspections.
But if that task proves too great, the industry may have to at least consider a new way of thinking before the arrival of Gen4, whatever and whenever that is.