Bernie Ecclestone glides silently, like a small and unblinking shark, into an empty office. His expression remains curiously blank as he says, softly: "I've not got long." It's tempting to imagine that one of the most dictatorial men in world sport is finally confronting his own mortality as Ecclestone will turn 80 next week. But it soon becomes obvious that the billionaire controller of Formula One is concerned less with his age than a relentless schedule before the controversial first grand prix in South Korea this Sunday.

We still end up spending almost an hour together and it seems appropriate to wish him happy birthday. "Hopefully I'll make it," he says dryly. "But it's all nonsense. What's the difference being 79 one day and 80 the next? It's the same. I don't even know where I'm going to be. I'll be travelling somewhere."

Rather than celebrating, or snoozing in his favourite chair, Ecclestone will be working on his birthday because he cannot imagine himself retiring before he dies: "Absolutely. What else would I do? People retire to die."

Ecclestone smiles when asked if he still expects to rule Formula One in another 10 years, aged 90? "Yes!" he exclaims. "The way I feel at the moment, why stop? I do it because I enjoy it. And yesterday is gone. I don't care what happened yesterday."

The prospect of a 90-year-old Ecclestone dictating to the sport with his usual domineering relish conjures up some surreal images. But, in his final race before he becomes an octogenarian, a compelling battle for the world championship reaches its third last stage with the Korean grand prix. A few weeks ago Ecclestone warned that the race was under real threat because the new track at Yeongam had not been completed. "It's done now," he says. "It's all right. Last month I didn't think it would be finished. And it would have been cancelled then – for sure. But the track has been inspected and passed. Everything's OK."

Yet the shambles exposes Ecclestone's mercenary ambition. He has always believed he has the right to reshape Formula One by moving into countries with no previous tradition of racing – as long as they pay him enough money. Next year an Indian grand prix will be added to the F1 circus. A new race in Texas has been confirmed for 2012 and, last week, Ecclestone announced that Russia will join the roster in 2014. This year's championship is likely to be settled in the very last race in Abu Dhabi and so, superficially, it appears as if F1 has become a much more universal sport which reaches millions of new fans rather than just the European elite who flock to Monaco and Monza.

"We're a world championship and so, by definition, we need to be in different parts of the world. In the end common sense has prevailed and we've expanded. It's just having the courage to do it."

As the president and chief executive of Formula One Management, and as the sport's commercial rights holder, Ecclestone runs racing as his personal fiefdom. For 32 years he has controlled Formula One, amid increasing accusations that he has stripped racing of its soul. It's always best to pause whenever romantic cliches like "heart" and "soul" are evoked in professional sport. But a key point remains. Rather than broadening its appeal, Ecclestone has instructed Hermann Tilke, his pet designer, to churn out a series of new circuits which are tedious replicas of each other. "Our problem is that we're trying to build race circuits that are super safe. You don't get so much up-and-down because you can't just put a new circuit anywhere. But one of the best circuits in the world is Turkey. It's a great circuit – that's up‑and‑down."

The Turkish grand prix has been supported sparsely since its introduction in 2005. In contrast great races like the Belgian grand prix, at the majestic circuit of Spa, and its British equivalent at Silverstone, have been threatened with expulsion. Does Ecclestone have any qualms when remembering his decision to remove the British grand prix from the 2005 calendar? "Not at all," he says of a strategy that was soon reversed, with the result that the British GP has been secured at Silverstone for another 17 years. "What I was told they couldn't do at Silverstone has since been done. It will now be a good race that we can be proud of. But nothing is cast in stone."

Could the best track of all, Spa, still be jettisoned? "Absolutely. If it wasn't supported by the government over there it probably would go because they wouldn't be able to afford it. It's the same with the British grand prix. The worst thing is that the government here have wasted a fortune on the Olympics which will come and go, and be forgotten in a few weeks, when they could have supported Silverstone and made sure the British grand prix is there forever. The only good thing about the Olympics is the opening and closing ceremony. They do a lovely showbiz job. Otherwise, it's complete nonsense."

Ecclestone has been involved in Formula One for 53 years. As a former team owner who won the world title three times with Brabham, surely he retains some passion for racing over money – especially in relation to Spa? "It's only good for the people who race. That circuit sorts out the men from the boys and if I was driving again I'd feel very happy I'd won in Spa. It's one of those classic courses. We've kept it. But we used to have 16 races. There's 19 this year and next year, with India, it will be 20. There's no magic number – it's what is commercially viable."

The addition of Texas and Russia will raise the amount of potential races to an unsustainable 22. "I think we'll find a way to keep it to 20 somehow," he says. So at least one European race might go? "Yes, Spa," Ecclestone deadpans.

It takes a few seconds for the joke to register. Ecclestone then suggests a more likely candidate for the chop. "Maybe someone will decide they need a rest because it's not working for them commercially. A good example is probably Turkey. They've built an incredible circuit and it might even be the best – but there's not much enthusiasm from the public. I don't know why."

Ecclestone has never worried much about public opinion. Did he lose any sleep last year after describing Hitler as a politician who was "able to get things done"? "Not at all. I knew what I meant."

His apparent endorsement of Hitler was, he explains, an expression of his belief in dictatorships. "Absolutely. I get myself into so much trouble when I say these things but I don't think democracy is the way to run anything. Whether it's a company or anything you need someone who is going to turn the lights on and off. We had Mrs Thatcher and when she was in charge she did turn the lights on and off. She brought the country to where it was before it got muddled up again."

Ecclestone suggests that Max Mosley, despite his sado-masochistic lifestyle and his father's past as the founder of British fascism and a supporter of Hitler, "would have been a very good prime minister. Max would've been ideal. He would know how to handle things. Max had an awful lot going for him. Maybe people thought he was too clever."

Saddam Hussein was another dictator, like Hitler, who could "turn the lights off" with devastating brutality. But Ecclestone argues that he made Iraq a more stable country. "Absolutely. It's been proved, hasn't it?"

As a man who also believes that "torture is an old-fashioned way of getting things done", has Ecclestone wished that his own sporting dictatorship extended to him being able to put a few of his enemies on the rack? "I've not had too many problems I've not been able to deal with," he replies with a ghostly smile.

He has made a reluctant advance on football. In the colourful company of Flavio Briatore, now banned from Formula One, and Lakshmi Mittal, one of the world's richest men who is apparently worth £19bn, Ecclestone now owns QPR. "It's something I got involved in," he sighs, "not out of choice. I'm probably going to be even more involved shortly. It's a task that needs getting on with."

Does he have any enthusiasm for QPR? "Not at all. Of course I can pull out – but there are lots of things that could and should be done there. It's mainly commercial things and for me to see if we can get that working better. Once you get me involved that's it. I'm there."

And QPR are top of the Championship. "Yeah, it's good. Super, super, super. We can only go down from here."

They might go up first, to the Premier League, before going down again. Ecclestone almost smiles again. "Half the people who get involved in football do it only to satisfy their ego. I suppose we all get caught up in that."

There was a period a few years ago when it seemed as if Ecclestone might attempt to seize control of Arsenal. "I thought it would be nice if we could be in charge of Arsenal. It was a stupid thing to do. I'm very lucky I escaped because that would've been a 24-hours-a-day job. I only got involved a little bit because my daughter's boyfriend was David Dein's son. That's how it started."

His mask as an Andy Warhol impersonator slips most when he reflects on his children and his painful divorce last year. He and his ex-wife, Slavica, the former Armani model who at 6ft 2in is a foot taller than him, have two adult daughters, Tamara and Petra. "I feel terribly sorry for them," he says of his billionaire children. "Both my ex and myself really had to come up the hard way. The kids haven't had to do that. In a lot of ways it would be better if they'd had to fend for themselves. I talk to them but you know kids – they don't listen."

Ecclestone admits his divorce was tumultuous. "We'd been together 26 years. It's a long time to be with someone and to have those particular feelings. But she thought she wanted to be her own boss and it's not up to me to stop her."

The little dictator sounds wounded. "I'm living with someone else now but you always think, 'What would have happened if …?' or 'Was it necessary?'"

Fleetingly, Ecclestone looks old and lonely. It does not seem as if his life is ever lifted by the occasional surge of elation. "No, it's not. I don't get any individual pleasure because we don't win races or titles in this job. I'm like most business people. You look back at the end of the year and you see what you've achieved by working out how much money the company has made. That's it."