Everyone drove cautiously, except for nineteen-year-old Max Verstappen of the Red Bull team. He overtook his way from almost last place to third, making moves his elders and supposed betters declined to dare. The commentators, astonished by this display of skill and guts, sought explanation. And one of them provided it: ‘They say your risk profile doesn’t stabilise until you’re about twenty-five.’ This statement made him attend even more closely. Yes, he thought: a treacherous circuit, visibility reduced by spray to almost zero, others trepidatious while you felt invulnerable, going flat out thanks to a risk profile as yet unstabilised. Yes, he remembered that all too well. It was called being nineteen. And some would crash and some wouldn’t. Verstappen hadn’t. So far, anyway: though he had another six years to go before neurophysiology rendered him entirely sensible.
— The Only Story (Julian Barnes), Loc. 2860–6