Why I won't be going to British Grand Prix

But Formula One is floundering under an inflated sense of its own importance. It is to sport as cosmetic surgery is to general practice: it doesn't affect anyone apart from those who are prepared to pay for it. Pluck Formula One off the planet and the impact would be pretty minimal.

There are no 'way-out-of-the-ghetto' routes that we find in boxing, football or American basketball. There are no free college scholarships, no community purpose and relatively little charitable contribution.

Plus it is still the best place to flog cigarettes. While the rest of the planet has woken up to the madness of plastering a sportsman with tobacco logos, Formula One is still accepting £160m per year from the Transnational Tobacco Companies.

It continues to duck and dive around the EU efforts to ban cigarette advertising, effectively making the legislation as useful as an ashtray in a Formula One car. The organisation is now securing grands prix in countries with less stringent public health policies. China, India and Dubai have no motorsport heritage, but they are eager to bask in the reflected glory that the 'greatest spectacle on earth' will bring.

And at home we can watch five hours of cigarette advertising on television. The new venues will no doubt look fabulous - as long as the cameras don't focus on the empty grandstands.

More far-flung grands prix will also take their toll on the already exhausted Formula One workforce. Acolytes of this "glamorous'' sport clamour to get inside. But the reality is an unsettling system of power politics: managers are routinely sacked, technical directors are poached and younger, prettier PR girls come up the ranks.

One former employee described working "for weeks, seven until midnight, living on Red Bull". She saw one male colleague "reduced to tears" because of the "hostility within the team." She eventually left and was advised that her former bosses were guilty of "breach of contract, bullying, personal victimisation and harassment."

Women get a particularly tough ride. I filmed an item that included a female IT engineer. I thanked her colleague for the interview and he replied: "No problem, but just imagine what we could do with her if she wasn't such a dog."

Image is everything in Formula One. Sport for sport's sake and victory as its own reward are absent. Several teams participate for entire seasons without expecting a single podium position - or even to finish at all! No other sport is founded on such defeatism.

This fact was brought home to me in Monaco when, following his defeat in the rowing World Cup series, my husband James Cracknell flew out to the race. He was angry and disappointed but he joined me at a restaurant where we would dine with some people employed in Formula One.

They greeted him with warmth, but I was incredulous when they said: "Oh dear! Third place to a bunch of Italians! Better get back in your boat mate!" They went on and on. "It doesn't really matter, though, does it?" said one, "It's not the Olympics." James's disappointment at losing could not have been further from their ethos of sport. When his irritation began to show, one of them whispered to me, "What's the matter?

Was there prize-money involved?" The omnipresent din of the dollar has doused emotions and rewritten the sport's priorities.

At Germany's Nurburgring last year vicepresident of Mercedes Benz Motor Sport Norbert Haug saw his driver Kimi Raikkonen seize pole position. He smiled, gritted his teeth and beat his fists on the surface of the pit wall with satisfaction. He later admitted team boss Ron Dennis had "bollocked" him for publicly celebrating Raikkonen's pole position.

McLaren's other driver, David Coulthard sheds some light on the disagreement. "Some bosses show great emotion," he said, "I'm not sure that's the right image when you are representing a major engine manufacturer and all the sponsors who financially support the team. They base their decision to support us on non-emotional factors and we need to respect their image."

During my time in Formula One, I began to feel sorry for the drivers (and I never thought I'd say that about twenty-something millionaires).

They will spend this week fulfilling more sponsorship obligations than any other sport would dream of inflicting upon their athletes. The Wimbledon finalists did not spend last week dining with sponsors or performing a sequence of futile PR stunts. Before Silverstone last year I watched as Jenson Button took part in a lawnmower race and Ralph Firman took his Jordan car down a Blackpool rollercoaster.

You may see a copy of my book at the grand prix but you won't see me. If rumours emanating from the Formula One community are to be believed, 'The Pits' has already ruffled a few feathers. Formula One protects itself with accreditation swipe cards and VIP laminates.

Such is the myth surrounding Ecclestone's omnipotence, Formula One insiders whisper in awe that he personally approves every pass. If true, the chances of an invite landing on my doormat this year are pretty slim.

* Beverley Turner's book The Pits: The Real World of Formula One has just been published by Atlantic Books, price £14.99.