This experiment has been the introduction, and then continuous development, of structural analysis software. This started with simple stick models at universities and innovative companies. These became linked to spreadsheets, then moved into Finite Element Analysis of solids. Then checking code compliance and connection design emerged followed by links into our drawing tools. Now the future is increasingly parametric with artificial intelligence on the way.

I’ve been able to watch all that happen over the past 35 years, and we have all rightly embraced each of these miracles. But each development has also shifted the balance of skills in teams and subsequent generations structural engineers, and many think not all these changes are for the best. 

At university I was taught two approaches to structural design:

• Quantitative; which works out exactly where the forces are and their values, and
  
• Qualitative; which is used to gain ‘a feel for the behaviour’ of a structure
  

Later I saw this split expressed as: 

• Quantitative design takes an existing geometry and focuses on defining the force path in detail through that geometry. 
  
• Meanwhile qualitative design allows the engineer to place the forces where they want them. 
  

I’ve always loved that idea of placing the forces and the element of choice it brings. You are the one in charge of the design, whilst with a qualitative approach you are the victim. You get what you get. The qualitative teaching at Southampton University, based on the work of David Brohn, had the greatest influence on my career of any course I ever took. It gave me the ability to quickly think about structural options, mentally play ‘what if?’ and know how to morph the scheme towards a better solution.

The first moment I had my eyes opened to this idea of ‘placing forces’ was a few months after I joined Arup Associates. I was working on Stockley Park for Charlie Wymer. He was a fantastic person to have as your first project engineer, spending much of the time with his feet up on the desk, smoking roll ups and thinking great thoughts.

He was designing the vaulted roof of the sports hall on an A4 sheet. The arch was pushing the supporting wall outwards and the resultant bending increased the column size, meaning it was wider than the wall. The resultant brick pier inside might injure people; on the outside it would be ugly from the approach road.

So, Charlie added a short cantilever at the top of the column and landed the roof beam on that. That moved the reaction and creating an opposite flex in the column, halving the moments and, magically, the column fitted inside the wall without a pier. This change also led to a better way of accommodating the gutter and a new lighting arrangement in the hall. Win. Win. Win.

In a way this is a trivial example (1), and since then I have seen and been the cause of many more dramatic adjustments to structures that move, reduce or express the forces. But for me this example was the lightbulb moment when I realised all that qualitative ‘feely’ stuff could put me in charge of a structure, and that has been the basis of much of my subsequent career.

I fear digital transformation has reduced the likelihood that changes like this would happen. An engineer would refine the answer to the first scheme presented rather than wondering what changing the question would bring. The final product would suffer as a result.