If you want to eliminate a problem in any facet of life, starting at the source is the correct course of action.

If you’re trying to put out a fire, aiming for the base of the fire rather than the flames is usually a good idea.

So it was confusing when NASCAR handed down penalties for the race manipulation incident that occurred in the Xfinity 500 at Martinsville on Sunday, the sanctioning body aimed the fire extinguisher at the flames.

NASCAR suspended crew chiefs, spotters and team executives from Trackhouse Racing’s No. 1 team, Richard Childress Racing’s No. 3 team and 23XI Racing’s No. 23 team on Tuesday after all three teams influenced the results of the race and therefore the NASCAR Cup Series playoff standings. The drivers of those cars — Ross Chastain, Austin Dillon and Bubba Wallace — were docked 50 points and fined $100,000.

Let’s not mince words: The drivers, crew chiefs and spotters for those respective teams did have a major hand in manipulating the results of both the race and the playoff picture, but they are not the root cause of the problem.

Earlier in the race, Ryan Blaney made contact with the lapped car of Shane van Gisbergen while racing William Byron for a crucial position on the racetrack. Blaney’s contact with van Gisbergen knocked the New Zealand native’s Chevrolet into the fellow Chevy of Byron, damaging the toe link of Byron’s No. 24.

As the field lined up for a late-race restart, van Gisbergen was told by his spotter to “not forget what the No. 12 did to you earlier,” referencing the contact Blaney made with van Gisbergen earlier in the afternoon.

That message is commonplace in NASCAR, especially at short tracks, but it was the sentence that followed that exposed the murky waters the race took place in.

The next words from van Gisbergen’s spotter? “That message is from Chevrolet.”

Van Gisbergen did not make contact with Blaney or affect Blaney’s race in the closing laps.

That radio evidence, combined with archived communications from the No. 1 team of Chastain and the No. 3 team of Dillon, is enough to indict Chevrolet, as are the suspicious circumstances and radio communications surrounding Wallace’s No. 23 team and Toyota.

But NASCAR’s penalty report on Tuesday seems to directly blame team personnel for the transgressions that took place, rather than the source.

Manufacturers have, of course, been ingrained with NASCAR since the beginning. The appeal of stock-car racing for automakers is the “Win on Sunday, Sell on Monday,” strategy that is the cornerstone of NASCAR’s business and sponsorship models. Factory teams in NASCAR popped up early in the organization’s existence, and today, the top teams like Joe Gibbs Racing, Team Penske and Hendrick Motorsports are considered key partners of their respective manufacturers.

This was a case of NASCAR — a sport more reliant on brand identity and consumerism than any other — being afraid to bite the hand that feeds them, despite a pile of incriminating evidence that points to the opposite approach being a more effective punishment.

If NASCAR wanted to take a stand and shake those in Detroit to their core, what penalties could they hand out?

For a start, stripping points in the manufacturer standings. Those standings aren’t followed closely by the fanbase, but the manufacturers themselves can point to said standings as tangible evidence that their vehicles rise above the competition.

But to truly hurt teams, taking away assets on the competitive side of the sport would be the strongest stance. Taking away allotted time in the wind tunnel or at test sessions directly hurts manufacturers in their quest to gain competitive advantages.

With no rules or penalties currently in writing to punish the manufacturers and executives that ultimately make these decisions, NASCAR officials must have conversations over the offseason regarding the future.

It’s true that NASCAR can’t exist without a healthy relationship with its manufacturers, but if said relationship means the manufacturers can walk all over the sanctioning body, it’s far from healthy.

NASCAR needs its manufacturers like its cars need gas, but at some point, it needs to draw a line in the Daytona sand: Race manipulation has no place in the world’s premier stock-car racing organization, regardless of who instigates it.

NASCAR chose to try and put out the fire by spraying the flames. If it wants to stamp out any future instances of race manipulation before they have a chance to formulate, attacking the root cause would be a great place to start.