Achilles never fought in a Louisiana swamp. Amundsen never crossed the Darién. Columbus never sailed with a chronometer.
It runs the other way too. A Formula One car has never raced on the dirt of the Circus Maximus, and its aerodynamics are useless without tarmac to press them into. Lewis Hamilton has never driven anything that could be spooked. A modern sprinter has never run on a track laid before rubber compounds existed. Every one of them is out of their element too.
Every contest here puts somebody somewhere they were not, and that is not a flaw in the premise. It is the premise.
Why it has to be this way. A matchup that only ever ran under conditions both competitors actually met would be a very short list, and it would answer nothing. The interesting question is never who was better on the day they happened to compete. It is what each of them was made of, and the only way to find that out is to move them and watch what holds.
Put two fighters on open ground and the taller one with reach wins more often. Put the same two in dense woods and reach becomes a liability. Neither result is the true one. Both are true, and the pair of them says more about those two men than either could alone.
The same holds for machines. On a modern circuit a Formula One car beats a chariot by a margin too large to be interesting. Move the contest to a packed dirt oval with tight turns and no run-off, and the car loses the downforce it was designed around while the chariot is on the only surface it ever knew. The answer changes, and the reason it changes is the point.
That is what the platform is for.
What travels with a competitor, and what does not. The model separates three things, and keeping them apart is what makes the answer defensible.
Skill travels. A man who can read weather can read weather anywhere. A navigator who can hold a course by dead reckoning does not lose that crossing an ocean he has never seen. A driver's car control is his own, whatever he is sitting in. Judgment, nerve, physical capacity, the ability to hold a party together under strain: these belong to the competitor and they go where the competitor goes.
Equipment does not travel. It belongs to the era, not to the competitor. Choose an earlier century and the same explorer sails a smaller ship, carries cruder instruments, and has nothing that protects him from a disease nobody had yet learned to treat. He brings what he knew. The century decides what he has.
Machines carry this more sharply than people do, because a machine is equipment. A car built around aerodynamic downforce has it on tarmac and loses it on dirt, and no amount of driver skill puts it back. What the vehicle can do is a property of the vehicle and the surface together, and the model treats it that way.
Familiarity does not travel either, and this is the part that does the work. A polar explorer has no jungle knowledge, and the model does not pretend otherwise. What he has instead is a documented capacity to function in country he does not know, and that capacity is scored from his record the same way his endurance is.
How adaptation is modeled. Two competitors facing an unfamiliar environment do not fail identically, and the difference between them is real and documented. Some people improvise, reassess and find another way. Others hold to a plan that has stopped working.
So adaptability is an attribute like any other, sourced from what each competitor actually did when circumstances turned against them. And it is applied where it belongs: not as a flat bonus for being clever, but as a change in how a competitor responds once something goes wrong. A passage where nothing goes wrong is unaffected by it. A passage that turns is where the difference shows, and it compounds, so the third setback is harder than the first.
And some things cannot be adapted to. Altitude sickness at four and a half thousand metres is imposed on everybody, because nobody acclimatises by being resourceful. A ship with a keel too deep cannot enter a shallow river however good her master is. An untreated infection in 1550 does not respond to competence. A tyre compound built for tarmac finds no grip in dust, whoever is steering.
The model is careful about this line, because a simulation that lets skill solve everything has stopped being a simulation. Where the record says a thing was survivable by judgment, judgment helps. Where the record says it was not, it does not.
What this buys you. The same matchup gives different answers under different conditions, and the answers are legible. A sea captain beaten across a mountain range, a mountaineer beaten across an ocean, and a Formula One car beaten on dirt are all the model saying the same thing: the ground decides as much as the competitor does.
That is the thrill of it. Not who was better, but under what conditions, and why.