I hate to sound like a boring old man (although I may well be), but in this case it really was better back then.

Forget a world champion thinking that putting a rabbit or deer masks on to faces is the funniest thing in the world.

The one press conference moment that still makes me chuckle was at the French Grand Prix in 1993, where the assembled F1 drivers were asked to explain the worst practical joke that they had ever played.

There were the usual tales of knocking on hotel room doors and running away. Gerhard Berger recounted throwing Ayrton Senna's briefcase out of a helicopter, with the Brazilian laughing alongside him.

And then it was Ukyo Katayama's turn.

The then Tyrrell driver's quite limited English meant he had failed to fully understand what the question was, as he thought he had been asked to recount the worst joke.

"There is a snake and an elephant, and they bump into each other in the jungle," he began, with the eyes of his fellow panelists all lighting up as they realised where this was heading.

"They both stop and the elephant goes, 'Do you know who I am?' The snake replies - 'Yes. You have big ears and a big trunk, you are an elephant! But Mr. Elephant, do you know who I am?'

"'Yes,' replied the elephant. 'You have funny skin, you have no hair and you have no ears. You are Niki Lauda...'"

Cue lots and lots of laughter. Even Hamilton would have cracked up at that one.

Same format

Of course comparing these two different eras is always fraught with difficulties, but it says much that more than 20 years on the format for pre-event press conferences has not changed very much. And they have become a bit long in the tooth.

Nowadays, as Hamilton tried to point out with his Snapchat shenanigans that ultimately ended up triggering an unnecessary and bizarre war with the media, there is often very little to get excited about.

In fact, and ironically since they have now become a live television event, press conferences have become as annoying for drivers as they are unfulfilling for the media.

Of course, press conferences are not supposed to be a moment of entertainment. The whole point of them is to help give media access to drivers and team bosses so quotes and information can be gathered in a structured way. They are not occasions where pom poms and fireworks will make any difference.

But where once these quotes/info gathering events worked well, in more recent years they have gone rapidly downhill, through a combination of a rapidly changing media world and the thirst for television channels to show as much as possible.

As they are broadcast live on television to fans and media outlets, there is now very little incentive for journalists at events to attend press conferences and contribute questions, because they will ultimately be doing someone else's work for them.

Ask an insightful question that offers fresh knowledge, get a brilliant answer in return, and all you will have done is given away a story for someone else to get the glory from.

For by the time you have got back to your desk, your story will have been beamed out to the world, to many news organisations/websites covering events from home. In the end, making an effort in the press conference can mean getting scooped to your own story.

For a journalist who ultimately wants to deliver added value for his readers and editors, it's much better to wait to grab drivers/team people away from the television cameras, where not only will there be better answers in a more relaxed environment, but there will also be time and space to actually write the story in the right time.

The lack of value for the media from the FIA press conferences, allied to the fact drivers know they are live on television, has inevitably led to a vicious circle where drivers don't get the best questions, so there are no good answers. And the more there are no good answers, the less desire there is for good questions – and so it goes on.

Same questions

It has been a similar vicious circle process with the television crew access down in the paddock after the press conference too.

Where once there were a handful of broadcasters able to get what they wanted from drivers in the 'bull pen', now there can be more than a dozen different stations jostling for position, often having to ask the same question.

This has led to an echo chamber of the same quotes being churned out by increasingly bored drivers as they go from one crew to another, which isn't good for broadcasters either.

One driver told me earlier this year that he has learned his tactic for the television pen, answer the first question, tweak it to perfection it for the second crew and then repeat ad nauseam until it's done.

Hamilton had obviously reached a point where he had enough – perhaps in light of the huge media storm that had been caused by his Malaysian GP post-race remarks about 'something or someone' not wanting him to be champion this year.

He knew Suzuka Thursday would mean endless repeat questions on the topic: which may well have prompted him to try to do something a bit left-field.

Whether or not putting Bambi or rabbit cartoons onto faces and telling journalists to go read his social media instead was the right way to go about complaining is doubtful, but there is some merit to his claims that the format of the press conferences have got a bit stale.

Too long season

It also says a lot about the lack of much excitement and buzz in the F1 paddock that the biggest story of the weekend was effectively: man messes about in press conference, gets upset that some journalists got upset and then won't speak to those journalists any more.

It is symptomatic of a sport that is not delivering the entertainment or storylines that is demanded nowadays – where television channels, newspapers and internet sites demand content 24/7. The thirst for content – any content – is why the FIA press conference has got televised in the first place.

But when there is very little fluctuation of form between teams on track, very little controversy/friction between teams/drivers off it, very little motivation for saying anything sensational, then it's almost inevitable these things don't deliver.

There are only so many times that you can get excited about a Mercedes front row, tyre pressure settings, the battle for second between Ferrari/Red Bull, engine modes or the fight for fourth between Williams and Force India.

Teams too are so reluctant to explain interesting things that they are up to for fear of giving their rivals an advantage.

It is only when jeopardy is thrown into the mix – like the race starts, or bad weather, or collisions, or engine failure or driver swaps – that there finally gets to be something to talk about.

Having 21 races certainly does not help, because it is yet more race weekends where the same drivers are in the same positions doing the same things with ever diminishing returns.

It would be like the group stages of the World Cup having each team play each other three times. I can assure you - third time through, the lack of storylines or shock results would be pretty dull.

High emotions

As Hamilton pointed out, F1 really could do with a shake-up of the format to bring its characters to life. There are moments for live broadcasts – like the slow-down lap or the green room – when television should be given everything to make the emotions of the contenders come through. The pre-podium room has become a real highlight just for this.

But there are moments of weekend too when television shouldn't be there, simply because some functions of written media do not work well for television.

What television needs (entertainment) and what written media need (information, quotes and background) can be completely different because they are providing for different markets.

So let's shake up the Thursday format: just have one or two drivers there in a more relaxed atmosphere where there is a real focus to the discussion.

Why not have some opening questions thrown in from fans, who can be as controversial as they like! And keep the cameras out so the drivers don't feel they have to be on display.

Plus, why not give host broadcasters better access – even through a FOM-controlled camera crew that is shared between them – for more behind-the-scenes moments when emotions are running high or for better prepared interviews that don't have to be a bun fight.

That Hamilton has chosen to go to war with the media – not wanting to sit down for questions any more, labelling anyone who reported on the Mercedes appeal an 'idiot', blocking journalists on Twitter over what happened – seems a bit extreme, but to each their own.

But if his bizarre weekend in Japan serves as a catalyst for F1 to think better about how the sport and its media can drive forward to embrace modern media demands, then some good will at least have come out of it.