Equilibrium
Everything adds to nothing, and that is the whole of statics
A structure that stays put obeys two statements — the forces on it sum to zero, and so do the moments. Every number in the subject comes out of those two sentences.
The free body is a choice, and choosing it well is the whole skill
Cutting a structure open is not a step in the method. It is the method — and where the cut is made decides whether the answer takes one line or twenty.
Three forces must meet at a point, and a drawing can find it
A body held by exactly three forces has their lines of action concurrent. That is a theorem, it is enough to solve for direction and magnitude, and for a century it was done with a straightedge.
Counting the unknowns, and finding out whether statics can answer
Two equations per joint, one unknown per member, one per restraint. Subtract, and the sign of the answer says whether the structure is a mechanism, solvable, or beyond what equilibrium alone can settle.
Answering one question without solving the rest
A truss of fifty members can be interrogated about one of them. Cut through three, take moments about the point where two of them meet, and the third falls out in a single line.
The load that is spread out, and the force that replaces it
A distributed load can be swapped for a single force at its centroid. The reactions come out identical and the bending moment does not, and knowing which side of the cut the swap is legitimate on is most of the skill.
The equation that is not new, and the three that are
A plane free body yields exactly three independent equations. Most attempts at a fourth are one of the first three wearing different clothes — and on a beam under vertical load, one of the three is already saying nothing.
The count that does not see it
A frame can have exactly as many unknowns as equations and fold up anyway. The count asks whether there are enough equations; it never asks whether they are different from one another.
Weight is the only thing resisting it
A structure that is strong enough everywhere can still be blown over, and nothing in its material properties has any part in whether it is. The whole answer is a weight and a width — and the failure begins long before anything tips, at the moment one edge stops pressing down.
The load a beam is given is a decision
Every beam calculation so far has started with a load per metre, handed over as though it were a property of the beam. It is not. It is the answer to a prior question nobody draws, and two defensible answers to it differ by sixty per cent on the same floor.
Six equations, and the drawing shows three
Every essay so far has taken place on a piece of paper, where equilibrium is three equations and a structure is a diagram. The real object has six, the extra three are the ones nobody writes down, and the difference between three legs and four is not a matter of degree.
The force that is whatever it needs to be
Every other force in statics has a value the equations produce. Friction has an inequality instead, so it takes whatever value equilibrium demands and the bound only ever says no — which means a problem with friction in it has a range of answers rather than one.
The load that depends on what carries it
Every other load in this collection is a number the structure is given. Retained soil is not — it pushes with a fraction of its own weight, and the fraction is decided by how far the wall moves. Six millimetres of retreat on a six-metre wall takes a third off the load, and being held still puts it back.
Moving a force, and what it costs
Every free body begins by putting a force somewhere convenient. That move is free along the force's own line, costs a couple across it, and in three dimensions leaves behind something no choice of point can remove.
A basement is a boat
Every load in this collection presses down and is resisted by strength. Hydrostatic uplift presses up, is resisted by weight, and does not care what is built on it — so the check contains no material property at all. It is a ratio of two weights, and one of them is water.
The member with only one direction
If a body is in equilibrium under forces applied at exactly two points, those forces are equal, opposite and along the line joining the points. It is three conclusions from two equations, it is the shortest real theorem in statics, and nearly everything that follows depends on it without saying so.
The pressure that stops growing
A tank of liquid presses harder the deeper it gets, without limit. A silo of grain does not. Wall friction carries part of the weight, the pressure that generates the friction is proportional to the pressure being carried, and the equation that follows is the one that describes a rope round a bollard.
Balanced, and four times as heavy
A counterweight cancels a moment about a pivot, and that is the only thing it cancels. The bearing beneath carries both weights, the inertia rises as the square of the radius, and a load that moves cannot be balanced at more than one position at all.
The envelope is not a structure
A continuous beam whose imposed load may sit on any span has eight load cases, and every one of them is a genuine state of equilibrium. The curve the design is made against is not one of them — it is assembled from different cases at different stations, and it fails the identity all eight satisfy exactly.
Two ways of being wrong
Plastic analysis has two theorems and they point in opposite directions. Any equilibrium field that nowhere exceeds the plastic moment gives a load at or below the collapse load; any mechanism gives one at or above it. Only one of those errors is safe.
The point the mechanism turns about
A collapsing frame is a chain of rigid pieces, and every piece is rotating about some point. Find those points and the whole collapse load reads off two ratios of lengths, with no trigonometry anywhere — and for a pitched roof the point in question is well above the top of the drawing.
The angle that doubles the force
A crane hook takes the weight and nothing else. What holds the load is a set of legs running down to it at an angle, and each leg is a two-force member — so at thirty degrees from the horizontal each of two legs carries the entire load, and the difference goes into the thing being lifted as compression.
Most of it is suction
A wind load is drawn as arrows pressing on the windward face, which is where about three fifths of it comes from. The rest is a pull on the back. The two side faces carry the largest suctions on the building and contribute nothing at all to the answer — and the inside of the building, which nobody draws, decides whether the roof stays on.
The load that arrives where the wind stops
Snow is the one load a structure is given rather than subjected to. What falls is spread evenly over a whole region; what a member carries is whatever the wind left above it, and the wind piles it against whatever gets in the way. The heaviest patch on a roof is usually a quarter of the snow on it.
The load that is really a lean
No frame is ever plumb. The columns are out of upright by something like a three-hundredth, and every tonne of gravity load standing on that lean has a horizontal component. The force that represents it is not a safety allowance — it is an exact statics substitution for a geometry nobody drew.
The weight that has to be known before it can be found
Every other load arrives from outside and can be looked up. A structure's own weight depends on how big it is, and how big it is depends on the load — so the first calculation on any project is a fixed point, and the fraction of a member spent carrying itself turns out to be the square of its span as a fraction of a span it can never reach.
The ground is a mechanism
Bearing capacity is met as a formula with three terms and a table of coefficients, and that presentation hides what it is. Underneath is a plastic collapse mechanism — a rigid wedge, a fan of radial shear on a logarithmic spiral, and a passive wedge that has to be pushed up and out of the way — and every coefficient in the table is a property of that one drawing.
The check that cannot see the error
Every analysis prints a global equilibrium residual, and it is the first thing anybody looks at. It catches a lost restraint and a load entered in the wrong unit immediately. It is structurally incapable of catching a member whose stiffness is wrong by a factor of ten, because the wrong answer is still in equilibrium with the same loads.
The force that is really an acceleration
Every other load in this collection is applied by something. This one is applied by nothing at all — it is the body's own acceleration, written on the other side of the equation so that statics can be used on a problem statics has no business with. The move is legitimate, it is a hundred and eighty years old, and it is exactly half done more often than it is done.
The pipe decides what the soil weighs
A buried conduit is not loaded by the soil above it. It is loaded by whatever share of that soil the relative movement leaves it — and which way the shear on the sides of the prism acts depends on whether the conduit settles more or less than the ground beside it. Two identical pipes under identical fill, one carrying two thirds of the prism and one carrying nearly twice it.
The surface that has to be searched for
Every other check in this collection is made at a section somebody drew. A slope has no section — the failure surface is a shape the ground chooses, so the calculation is a search over shapes, and the answer is the smallest number found rather than the solution of anything.
Every pressure points at the pin
Pressure acts normal to a surface, so on a curved one every element pushes in a different direction and no multiplication gives the resultant. Two free bodies recover it without an integral — and on a circular surface a third observation makes the whole force disappear from the equation a hoist has to satisfy.
The load that is never all there at once
A column at the bottom of twenty storeys is designed for the imposed load of twenty floors added up, and twenty floors do not reach their own worst day together. The reduction that follows is not a discount on the safety margin. It is the central limit theorem, and it has a floor it never goes below.
The area that is not in the equation
Friction is proportional to the force pressing two surfaces together and independent of how large they are, which sounds like an approximation and is not. The area is absent because the contact that carries the load is a tiny fraction of the contact that is drawn, and that fraction grows in exact proportion to the load.
Whether it tips or slides
A free body pushed sideways has two ways of leaving, and which one it takes is decided before any load is known. The condition is a width divided by a height set against a coefficient of friction, and the weight, the wind pressure and the depth of the body all cancel out of it.
The force that is capped on purpose
Everywhere else in this collection friction is a nuisance whose value nobody controls, checked with a coefficient known to one figure. In a friction damper the inequality is the design intent — the device is specified so that a member behind it can never be asked for more than a stated force.
Equivalent in work, not in resultant
Two force systems with the same resultant and the same moment about every point are interchangeable — for a rigid body. A finite element is not a rigid body, and substituting one for the other on a beam element leaves the tip of a cantilever a third too low with no warning of any kind.
Seventy-five per cent each way
A contact asked for friction in two directions at once can supply a force of a certain length pointing any way it likes, so its limit is a disc and not a square. Two checks made one direction at a time, each passing at seventy-five per cent, describe a contact that has already let go.
The pier that moves in jumps
A sliding bearing whose static friction is larger than its kinetic friction does not release a slow thermal movement as a drift. It grips, gives and grips again, and each time the force in the pier swings by twice the difference between the two coefficients — whatever the pier is made of.
The order the loads arrived in
Statics allows a contact with friction a whole range of forces and has no way to choose between them. A real structure does choose, and what it chooses by is the order in which things happened to it — so the force in a pier under a sliding bearing is a record of its history, not a function of its loads.
Half as far between the legs
A body standing on feet, legs or pads has for its base the polygon its supports enclose, and how far its weight can be pushed before it tips depends on which way it is pushed. A three-legged stand pushed toward the gap between two legs has exactly half the reach it has pushed toward one of them.
The line that pairs four forces
Three forces in equilibrium meet at a point; four need not. But they pair off. The resultant of two passes through the point where their lines cross, the resultant of the other two through theirs, and the two resultants must share the line joining those points. Culmann's line turns a four-force body into two triangles — and the method of sections into a drawing.
The pole decides the drawing, not the answer
Five forces will not pair off the way four do. They need a point that is nowhere on the structure — chosen freely, by whoever is holding the pencil — and the string of lines it generates. Every choice draws a different polygon and finds the same resultant, and the shape it draws turns out to be the beam's bending moment diagram.
The pin that is not a point
Every line of action drawn so far passes exactly through a pin's centre, which is true of a frictionless pin and of nothing else. A real one carries its force tangent to a small circle instead, so a link's line is a band, a construction's answer is a range, and a support drawn as a hinge hands a couple of a hundred kilonewton-metres to whatever it is pinned to.
The column given more than its rectangle
The tributary rule draws a rectangle round each column and hands it whatever stands inside. A floor is continuous over its columns, and a continuous beam does not give each support the load above it — the first interior one takes a quarter more and the end ones a quarter less. On a grid the two directions multiply, and two columns on the same floor differ by a factor of nearly three.
It tips inside its own hull
On rigid ground a body tips when its resultant reaches the edge of its base, and how stiff its supports are has nothing to do with it. On pads that settle, the body leans as it is pushed, the lean moves its weight, and the push that tips it falls by one number a site engineer already has: settlement times the height of the weight, over the square of the half-width. Toward a corner the loss doubles, and one soft pad makes the weakest direction one nobody checks.
The cut that needs a joint first
The method of sections works because a cut through three members leaves three unknowns and a point about which two of them have no moment. A K-braced tower has no such cut anywhere: every section severs two legs and two diagonals. One joint in the middle of a horizontal supplies the missing equation, and only in that order does each step have one unknown — after which the diagonals turn out to be carrying not the shear but the moment about the point where the legs would meet.
Every space a point, every joint a polygon
A truss's force diagram is a second drawing of the truss in which the joints have become polygons and the spaces between members have become points. Maxwell showed in 1864 that the exchange runs both ways, so a designer can draw the forces first and ask what shape carries them. His theorem also says which frames have such a diagram at all, and the answer is a surprise, because it is about polyhedra.
The arch that is only its three hinges
A three-hinged arch's reactions come from three points and nothing else, so a parabola, a circle and a portal frame on the same hinges push on their abutments identically. Move a load across and the point where the reactions cross runs along two straight lines through the crown. That is the arch's influence line, drawn with a straightedge — and friction in the hinges it was built around blurs it.
The polygon that runs out of freedom
A funicular polygon for given loads has exactly three freedoms, so it can be made to pass through three chosen points and no more. Three points is a three-hinged arch, and the drawing solves it. Take the crown hinge away and one freedom is left over. The drawing then offers a whole family of thrust lines and cannot say which one the arch uses — the rib's stiffness decides, and stiffness is not on the paper.
How wrong a drawing is
A pencil line is a band, and two bands cross in a parallelogram that grows as they turn parallel. The accuracy of a graphical construction is therefore a property of the angles it makes, not of the hand that made it — and the worst case is the shallow arch, the structure the method was most used on. Measured properly, the drawing's error there is the size of the builder's, and the check draughtsmen relied on cannot see it.
Rigid by every test, and still folding
Counting the unknowns says whether a frame can be solved and the rank of its equations says whether it can stand, and both answers are yes or no. A frame a few degrees from a critical form passes both and is still nearly a mechanism — and of the ways that shows, the last to arrive is the one the rank test measures. Its own sag under load eats a tenth of its geometry at six degrees; sixteen-figure arithmetic would not notice anything until well below half a degree.
The ballast that helps it over
On rigid ground a heavier block is harder to tip, in exact proportion to its weight — that is the whole of the overturning check. On ground with a bearing capacity it is not. The toe presses the ground to its limit, the weight's lever arm shrinks as the yielded block under the toe grows, and the tipping push peaks when the block weighs half of what the ground under it can bear. Past that, every tonne of ballast added to steady it brings it closer to going over.
The redundancy only the sun can find
A K-braced girder that is symmetric about mid-span has one member more than statics can resolve, and it is at the centre, where two K's meet at one joint. Symmetry does not remove it, because the forces it allows are symmetric themselves. Loads barely touch it — a section calculation that ignores it is exact for a load at almost any joint. What finds it is a millimetre of misfit or a sunlit top chord, which put forces into the middle of the girder that no load calculation contains.
The corners the pressure pulls up
Replace a uniform pressure on a beam element by its work-equivalent nodal loads and the ends acquire couples the resultant cannot see. Do the same on an eight-node plate element and the corners acquire forces pointing the wrong way: a pressure pushing down is represented by the corners being pulled up, a twelfth of the load each. It is correct, it is the vector that makes the solution the best one available, and it is the reason a printout of nodal forces is not a picture of where a load goes.
The ground that arrives after the weight
A block's resistance to tipping on ground that can yield is a parabola in its weight, with its peak at half of what the ground can bear. On soft clay the ground's capacity is not fixed: it grows as the clay drains under the weight, and it grows years after the weight has arrived. A tower on such ground is at its weakest on the day it is finished — 1.33 against the 1.93 it will have once the clay has drained — and a silo filled in a week walks over the top of the parabola and down the far side, which is the other way a structure can be built.
The ground that never quite gives way
On a bed of springs capped at the ground's bearing limit, a block pushed sideways tips at a definite push, below the limit the rigid-plastic parabola gives. Real ground is curved: it softens all the way to its limit and never quite reaches it. On such ground the block has no tipping push of its own. Its resistance creeps toward the limit, and the peak it does have is made by its own weight leaning with it — 14 per cent below the limit with the weight 5 m up, nearly at it with the weight at the base, where the lean simply runs away.
A failed slope gives a line, not a soil
A slope that has slipped is the one full-scale strength test geotechnics ever gets, and the standard way to read it is to set its factor of safety to one and solve for the soil. One equation cannot give two strengths. What it gives is a line of cohesions and friction angles, every one of which fails the slope exactly, and the repair designed on one point of that line can be worth a factor of 1.07 or of 1.51. The slip itself says which point: each soil on the line fails along a different surface, and the depth of the scar is the second equation.
The pressure the roller leaves behind
A retaining wall is designed for the pressure of the soil it holds, a triangle growing with depth. The soil behind most walls was not tipped there. It was placed in layers and rolled, and each pass of the roller pushed the soil sideways against the wall harder than the soil's own weight ever could, and left most of that push locked in when it moved on. Behind a 3 m wall compacted by an ordinary vibrating roller the locked-in pressure is a constant 28 kPa from half a metre down, the thrust two and a half times the active triangle's and the moment at the base three and a half.
The floors that fill up together
A column may be designed for less than the sum of its floors' imposed loads because the floors do not reach their worst day together — an argument that assumes each floor's load is independent of every other's. Let any two floors be correlated, and the reduction the averaging can pay for shrinks, and stops shrinking at a higher floor. At a correlation of 0.16 that floor reaches the 0.7 the storey rule falls to. One tenant on five floors halves what twenty floors can average away.
The piles that would lift the ground
A basement too light to stay down can be pinned down with tension piles, each holding by the friction on its shaft. Add enough of them, close enough together, and the ground between them stops being something they grip and becomes something they carry: the group lifts out as a block, and the block's weight is all it can hold. For 600 mm piles 15 m long that happens closer than 2.06 m apart, a spacing with no raft, no water and no load in it — and every pile past that point is paid for twice.
Two slips are a shear test
One failed slope gives a line of soils, every one of which fits the failure. Two failed slopes give two lines, and where they cross is a soil that fits both. Whether the crossing means anything depends on how differently the two slopes loaded the ground: two slips at one angle cross only at zero cohesion, two at nearby angles cross anywhere in a twenty-degree band, and a flat, tall slope beside a steep, short one pins the soil to within two degrees — because each slip is a shear test at one normal stress, and a strength line needs two tests far apart.
The stem that bends away from the roller
A roller compacting backfill against a wall leaves a lateral pressure behind it that the soil's weight alone would never make, and for a wall that cannot move that residual is Ingold's envelope. A cantilever stem moves as the fill goes up, and a residual locked in against it relaxes as the stem bends away. But not everywhere: the base never moves, so it keeps its pressure, and the last lifts have nothing placed after them, so they keep theirs. A 300 mm stem sheds an eighth of the rigid wall's base moment and the softest stem a third — never more, because the two ends of the stem are where the relief cannot reach.
The water that comes back while the floors go up
A basement below the water table is built dry, inside an excavation kept pumped, and the building that will one day hold it down is not there yet. When the pumps stop, the water comes back over days and the frame goes up a floor a week, and the basement is safe only if the weight stays ahead of the water at every instant. How long the pumps must run is not set by how heavy the building is. It is set by one ratio — how much weight the frame adds while the ground refills — and for a basement that needs five floors on it to hold itself down, a seven-day recovery asks for three and a fourteen-day one for one.
The counterweight that follows the jib
A counterweight that stays put balances one position and leaves the mast a moment at every other. Make it move and it can balance anything that moves slowly enough to be followed. On a luffing crane the thing that moves most is not the payload but the jib itself, whose own moment about the mast changes more than twice as much through its luff as the payload's ever is — and a counterweight linked to the luff cancels that change exactly. What it cannot cancel is the payload, which leaves the ground in a second. The best any counterweight can do with that is wait halfway, and the mast is left with half the payload's moment at the longest radius, whatever else the counterweight does.
The angle that saves the most concrete
Cut an arch dam into horizontal rings and each ring is a curved surface with water on one side. The projection rule gives the water's whole push on it without an integral — the pressure times the chord — and the two abutments, pushing back along the ring, turn that into a thrust equal to the pressure times the radius, the hoop formula of a pipe arrived at without a pipe. From there one line of calculus says that the ring using least concrete has a central angle of 133.6°, whatever the canyon, the depth or the concrete. That number explains why arch dams in narrowing canyons are drawn at a constant angle rather than a constant radius, and why the angle that suits the concrete is not the one that suits the rock.
The water the valley floor takes
An arch dam is not a stack of rings. At its crown it is also a vertical cantilever fixed into the valley floor, and the water at each depth is shared between the ring there and the cantilever in whatever proportion makes them bend alike. In a V-shaped canyon the short lower rings are stiff and carry nearly everything, and the top rings carry up to twice their own water because the cantilever leans on them. In a U-shaped canyon the cantilever takes half the reservoir and bends the heel into tension that the ring formula never sees.
The prop that holds what the roller left
A basement wall whose ground-floor slab is cast before the backfill spans between its base and the slab, and as the fill is compacted against it the wall bows by a sixth of a millimetre. A free cantilever stem leaned sixteen times as far and shed an eighth of the roller's pressure; the propped wall sheds one per cent. Its base moment falls to a third, which looks like a gain, but the pressure has not gone: the slab now carries 22.6 kN a metre against the 6 an active-pressure design gives it and the 9 of soil at rest.
The basement that leaks before it floats
A water table that rises after a basement is finished is a load that grows through the building's life, and the building's flotation check is the last thing it troubles. A metre of rise adds a sixth to the uplift on the whole building but over a quarter to the net load on the slab, which carries the water less its own weight. The slab's cracks, which a watertight basement is designed to, are the first thing to run out of room — and the limit for the cracks that pass right through it tightens as the water rises.
The slab that shrinks away from the wall
A basement wall propped by its ground-floor slab before it is backfilled keeps the roller's pressure, and its slab takes it. Then the slab dries. Two millimetres of shrinkage at each end — about a year for a 30 m slab indoors — and a slab that only bears on the wall has let go of it, leaving a stem designed as propped to carry 2.6 times the base moment it was given. Tying the slab into the wall to stop that makes it worse: the slab goes on shrinking and pulls, and the base moment passes the free cantilever's.
The counterweight that knows the load
A counterweight driven from the hoist's load cell can follow the payload as the rope takes it up, so the step at pick-up that defeated every linked counterweight becomes a ramp a motor can keep pace with. Balancing the whole payload is then the worst thing to do with it. A crane balanced for its load is thrown backwards by all of it when the load is let go — 1.5 times the payload's moment with a rebound factor of 0.5, against 1.0 for the linked crane's half. The best share is a hedge between lifting the payload and losing it: 0.35 of it, for 0.85, which buys 18% more at the tip from the same mast.
The load that stays and the load that visits
An office floor's imposed load is two loads: a sustained one that arrives with a tenant and stays until the next, and intermittent ones — a party, a move, a crowd — that visit one floor for a few days. Simulated over fifty years, a floor's characteristic load is set mostly by its worst visit, and visits on different floors almost never coincide. So twenty floors let one by one need only 0.27 of their summed loads, in tenancies of five 0.37 and to one tenant 0.60, against the storey rule's 0.73. The rule is safe for offices by a wide margin. It stops being safe only where the load stays — an archive or a library let to one occupier — and there its column load is exceeded in a quarter of lives.
The mechanism that stands up anyway
Two bars in a straight line between two pins are a mechanism by the count, by the rank and by every measure of how nearly a frame folds. Tension them and they carry load: 200 kN of tension gives the joint the stiffness of the same bars raised 1.8 degrees, and where the bars raised 3 degrees snap through at 11 kN, the tensioned flat pair carries 50 kN and goes on stiffening. The stiffness is a lack of fit of four millimetres, which 83 degrees of warmth takes away; compressed, the same pair buckles to rest crooked on one side or the other; and no tension can reach a mechanism that swings rather than shivers.
The visits that come to every floor at once
A floor's characteristic imposed load is set mostly by its worst visit — a party, a move, a crowd — and visits to different floors almost never coincide, which is why a column carrying twenty office floors needs only about a quarter of their summed loads. Let some of the visits be made by the whole building at once and nothing changes on any one floor; one floor cannot tell. The column can. A tenth of the visits shared takes the twenty-floor factor from 0.26 to 0.51, a quarter to 0.68, and a third uses up the whole of the storey rule's reduction. The rule fails in exactly the buildings whose use synchronises the crowd, and it fails most where the load mostly visits.
The pressure that switches at the hopper
Below a silo's bin a conical hopper funnels the grain to its outlet, and the wall pressure there does not keep growing with depth as a liquid's would. It peaks at the hopper's top edge. Filling, the edge carries twice the bin wall's pressure just above it; emptying, the grain converges on the outlet, its largest stress turns from vertical towards horizontal, and the edge carries two and a half times. Half a metre above the apex the stress is 2.6 kPa whether the bin holds 5 m of grain or 60 — which is why a silo empties at the same rate full or nearly empty.
The column under the escape corridor
A column's imposed-load reduction is allowed by the number of floors it carries, on the reasoning that floors are not crowded at the same moment. A column whose tributary area includes escape corridor carries a part of every floor that is crowded at exactly the same moment, every time the building is evacuated. Its reduction follows how much corridor its area holds, not how many floors it carries — a tenth costs little, two-fifths uses up the whole of the storey rule's allowance, and a stair-core column needs almost none. Against the nominal loads a designer writes down, the margin that saves the columns at the corridor's edge has run out by the time the area is mostly corridor.
The stair that empties three floors at a time
A column beside an escape stair carries the corridor crowd of every evacuation, and when every floor empties at once its floors are loaded together and earn almost no reduction. Tall buildings are usually evacuated in phases instead, three floors at a time, so that the stair is never asked to carry everyone. Under such a stair the column earns its reduction back and more — 0.29 of the summed floor loads, where the storey rule allows 0.73. But a phased strategy is a plan for the usual alarm, and the column's characteristic load belongs to the unusual one. If one alarm in a hundred escalates to a full evacuation, the factor climbs back to 0.59; one in twenty, and it passes the rule.
The seasons that stop reaching the wall
A ground-floor slab that has shrunk away from the basement wall it propped moves with the seasons as well, a few tenths of a millimetre at each end every year. It looks like a ratchet waiting to happen: each winter the slab presses the stem back into its fill, and each push might lock a little more pressure in. On a 30 m slab it never gets the chance — the seasons ride on a shrinkage ten times larger, and the slab last touches the wall sixteen months after the fill is finished. On a 10 m slab it touches every year for good, and the stem still loses most of its prop.
The building held down by its pump
A basement whose water table has risen above its design level is often given back its design head by a pump under the slab, and from then on it is safe while the pump runs. When the pump stops the water comes back on the ground's own clock, and the checks the pump was protecting are lost in an order the building's weight decides. Under eight storeys only the slab's cracks were ever at risk; under five, the building's flotation check goes first, four and three-quarter hours after the pump stops, and the slab's strength is never in question at all. A structure that was safe by its weight has become one that is safe by a machine, and the machine's reliability is now one of its loads.
The release the rope cannot slow
A crane whose counterweight knows the payload balances only a third of it, because a payload can be let go and the crane is then thrown backwards by whatever the counterweight was holding, and half as much again in the rebound. Slow the release and the rebound goes, so the hope was that a device on the rope could slow it. Nothing on the rope can: the rope holds only what the hook holds. How fast a load goes belongs to the payload, and what the crane owns is how fast it answers — its period and its damping. And with no rebound at all, the counterweight still should not balance more than 0.6 of the payload, because the payload's own moment is still let go.
The drain that fails a season at a time
A basement held at its design head by drains and a pump can fail suddenly, when the pump stops, or slowly, when fines settle in the drains and the head under the slab creeps up while the pump keeps running. The slow failure gives a standpipe read once a year a decade of warning, in its own time constants — if it is read in the wet season. And long before the silt floats the building on its own, it has made every stop of the pump more likely to.