Free-body — the series
-
The slope, and the two directions that make it easy
An inclined plane looks like a harder problem than a flat one. Split the weight into two components chosen to suit the slope and it becomes an easier one.
-
Slide or topple
Push a wardrobe and it goes over; push a brick and it skids. Both are held by the same friction and both are pushed by the same hand, and which of the two failures arrives first has nothing to do with how hard the push is. The floor decides it, by shifting where it pushes back.
-
The table statics cannot settle
A rigid top on three legs has one possible set of reactions and a rigid top on four has infinitely many, all of them balancing every force and every moment exactly. The extra leg does not make the problem harder; it makes it unanswerable, and the answer has to come from somewhere the model deliberately threw away.
-
The load nobody applied
A redundant structure develops forces with nothing on it. Change its temperature and the same extra constraint that made statics unanswerable also refuses the expansion — and a restrained steel member reaches its yield stress after a hundred and four kelvin, a figure that contains no length, no area and no load.
-
A state no load could reach
The free direction a redundant structure leaves open can be driven on purpose. Tighten a tendon through a concrete beam and its whole stress state moves into the half of the range the material is good at; tighten a bolt hard and the load it carries fluctuates by a fifth of what is applied to it. Both put the structure somewhere no arrangement of external loads could.
-
The one number the tolerances cannot touch
A redundant structure's load sharing depends on stiffnesses and manufacturing errors that nobody knows. Its collapse load does not depend on either. Once members yield they hold a known force instead of a force proportional to a displacement, the compatibility equations that needed the unknowns drop out, and the load at which the structure becomes a mechanism follows from a work balance with no stiffness in it at all.
-
The spool that rolls towards the hand pulling it
Pull gently on the thread of a cotton reel lying on its side on a table, with the thread coming off the underside of the hub, and the reel rolls towards the hand, winding the thread up as it comes. Raise the thread and at one particular angle the reel will not move at all however hard it is pulled; raise it further and the reel rolls away, paying the thread out. Which way it goes is decided by a single line — where the thread's direction, extended, meets the table — and the same line decides which way a bicycle goes when its lower pedal is pulled backwards.
-
The stack that leans past its own table
Stack identical books on the edge of a table, each pushed out as far as it will go without falling, and four of them are enough for the top book to lie entirely beyond the table's edge. Keep going and the overhang grows without limit — the stack can reach as far out as anyone likes — but only as half the harmonic series, so that two book-lengths need 31 books, three need 227 and five need more than twelve thousand. The arithmetic is the same that settles whether a ladder leaning on a wall slips or a wardrobe topples, and the slow growth is the price of having nothing but the stack's own weight to hold it back.
-
The chimney that breaks a third of the way up
A tall brick chimney felled by demolition rarely reaches the ground in one piece. It snaps partway up, early in its fall, and the top falls behind the rest. Nothing has hit it. The cause is a free-body diagram: as the column rotates about its base, the material near the top must be dragged round faster than its own weight would take it, and the material lower down holds back. The bending this needs is largest a third of the way up, at a thirteenth and a half of what the same column would carry standing still at the same tilt — and brick, which carries no tension, cracks there after only a few degrees of lean.