Niki Lauda: 'People had lost their loved ones yet no one was telling them why'

People always think that the worst time of my life must have been after the German Grand Prix crash in 1976, which put me in a coma and left me with severe burns. But it wasn't. In 1991, one of the planes from Lauda Air, the airline I had set up, crashed in Bangkok, killing 223 people. The effect of the disaster was enormous. When I was motor racing, I had taken the decision to risk my life. But when you run an airline and more than 200 people want to go from A to B and they don't arrive - that's a different responsibility. My first reaction was to say that, if my company is responsible for this, then we have to stop running the airline immediately.

It took about eight months to discover what had caused the crash. The flight recorder was damaged and only the voice recorder survived, along with some of the engine software. When the manufacturer Boeing eventually analysed everything it was clear the reverse thrust had deployed in the air. Everyone thought that an aeroplane could continue to fly under those circumstances - but it couldn't. What really annoyed me was Boeing's reaction once the cause was clear. Boeing did not want to say anything. There was a funeral in Bangkok for the last 23 unidentified passengers and I went there to pay my respects. Then I flew straight to Seattle to try to have this dealt with properly. This was a very difficult time for me.

I asked to fly the simulator myself with it programmed the way they thought the aeroplane had behaved. At first they refused. But I said: 'Listen, this was my aeroplane, my name, my damage ... so let me do it.' They agreed. I tried 15 times to recover the aircraft, but it was impossible. It was absolutely clear why the plane had crashed. But the legal department at Boeing said they could not issue a statement. They said it would take another three months to deal with the wording. I asked for a press conference the next day in Seattle. I said: 'Take a 767, load it up like it was with two pilots, deploy the reverse thrust in the air and, if it keeps on flying, I want to be on board. If you guys are so sure that people can continue to fly these aeroplanes without being at risk, then let's do it.' Immediately they came to my hotel and told me they could not do it. I said: 'OK, then issue a statement!' And they did. This was the first time in eight months that it had been made clear that the manufacturer was at fault and not the operator of the aeroplane.

The difference with the car crash in 1976 was that then, for me, it was simply a matter of surviving. I'd won the first of my three Formula One championships the previous year and was leading the title race again. Bad though the accident was, I was lucky. Arturo Merzario, another driver, was there to get me out when my car caught fire. Another 10 seconds in there and I would have been dead. In fact, while I was in hospital in a coma, a priest came in to give me the last rites. I was fortunate that I had the right doctors at the right time. I missed the next three races yet, six weeks later, I was back on the starting grid for the Italian Grand Prix to resume my fight with James Hunt, my biggest opponent that year. We went into the final race in Japan with me still ahead. It had been raining that week like you couldn't believe and, in my opinion, it was too dangerous to drive. So I pulled out after one lap. James finished third and won the title by one point, which was good for him. I was lucky to have survived that far and I had the choice not to risk my life again. What made the air crash so upsetting was that there were these poor people who had lost their loved ones on one of my planes and it took us so long to give them a reason why.

If you ask me about career highlights, I would have to name two. Winning my third drivers' championship by half a point, in 1984, against Alain Prost when many people thought my career was over. Perhaps my best result, however, was the 1977 South African Grand Prix, my first win after the accident. That was a bloody difficult race because I had run over some wreckage and my radiator was damaged. I was under pressure from another driver and drove the last six or eight laps with the oil pressure light on. That debris had come from an accident that had killed the Welsh driver Tom Pryce. Only I didn't know about the accident, about what had happened. It was not until I was on the podium that someone told me about Tom. So in a good moment, there was also bad.

That sums up the way racing can go and the way life can go. My company had the plane crash, I felt responsible but, out of it, came discovery of the fault and the knowledge that such a problem will never happen again.

Life facts

Born in Vienna in 1949, Niki Lauda began driving in Formula One in 1971, having been forced to take out a bank loan, secured against a life insurance policy, to buy his way in. It was not until he joined Ferrari in 1974 that he won his first race. He went on to win two world championships, in 1975 and 1977, with the Italian team. After an appalling crash at the Nurburgring circuit in 1976, his face and body were left badly scarred by burns. Yet he was driving again in six weeks and nearly won the title again that year. He retired in 1979 to concentrate on running his airline, Lauda Air, but returned to racing in 1982. Two years later, he won the drivers' championship for the third time, this time for McLaren. Lauda retired again in 1985, to concentrate on his airline business. He is now an F1 commentator for German TV and has started a new airline, 'Niki'.