IUEC_Skyline_race to the sky_empire state building_elevatorinfo

You may know the story already: A leading retailer of its day draws up plans for what would become the world’s tallest building to serve as its corporate headquarters in a major American city. Their iconic structure does in fact become that superlative and goes on to reshape the urban skyline for years to come. 

Perhaps you’re thinking of the Sears Tower (now known as the Willis Tower) in Chicago, which opened in 1973. Soaring 110 stories and 1,451 feet over the Windy City, the Sears Tower held the title as the world’s tallest building for a quarter century. 

You’d be right, of course.  

But the real and original skyscraper goes back another 60 years to before World War I. That’s when Frank W. Woolworth, founder of the ubiquitous five-and-dime stores bearing his name, commissioned in New York City what could become The Woolworth Building, which opened in 1913. Once completed, his building towered a then-staggering 792 feet, making it the tallest building in the city, and the rest of the planet for that matter.  

And while the structure at 233 Broadway was a masterpiece in neo-Gothic design (earning it the nickname “The Cathedral of Commerce”), its true innovation lay inside its elevator system that included nearly two miles of shafts. This pioneering work with elevators would guide the development and construction of skyscrapers worldwide to this very day. 

When we think skyscrapers, we imagine steel frames, soaring facades, endless sheets of glass, and perfectly silhouetted skylines. But the true enabler behind cities increasingly moving vertically has always been hidden in plain sight: the elevator. Indeed, as much as engineering breakthroughs around metals and materials, it’s been the clear, methodical advances in elevator technology that quietly dictated how high buildings could rise. 

The Woolworth Building: The World’s Tallest Made Practical by Elevators 

When the Woolworth Building opened in 1913, the everyday limit for tall buildings wasn’t only structural strength of steel and iron girders. It was safe, reliable and efficient vertical transportation for people inside these increasingly tall spaces. If tenants or visitors had to wait too long for elevators, the building’s upper floors would be commercially useless. Frank W. Woolworth and his engineers understood that speed alone wasn’t enough. Efficiency mattered just as much. 

Enter “Zoning”: A Breakthrough in Elevator Design 

The Woolworth Building was among the earliest skyscrapers to fully embrace elevator zoning, a concept that remains foundational in skyscraper design to this day. Instead of every elevator serving every floor, the building was divided into vertical zones, each being served by a dedicated group of elevators. In practice, it worked like this: 

  • Local elevators served lower floors with frequent stops. 
  • Express elevators bypassed lower levels and delivered passengers directly to the upper stories. 

While this may seem somewhat obvious today, it was certainly a breakthrough then and dramatically reduced travel times and congestion. Riders heading to higher floors no longer waited behind dozens of short trips. In effect, the Woolworth Building functioned like a vertical subway system with express trains making fewer stops and focused on getting to further away destinations quickly. 

Otis Elevators Were at the Core 

The Woolworth Building installed Otis electric traction elevators, which were still relatively new technology in the early 1900s. Compared to hydraulic elevator systems, electric traction elevators could move faster, further and more smoothly, all of which are important advantages when servicing a building north of 790 feet.  

In effect, the Woolworth Building provided that crucial proof that an express elevator system would function safely and efficiently, a vital consideration in skyscraper design. But it was only the beginning.  

The Need for Speed: Elevators in the Empire State Building Era 

By the time the Empire State Building was completed in 1931, the skyscraper race towards the heavens had intensified. At 1,250 feet tall, it dwarfed its predecessors, and in turn demanded a new level of elevator performance. 

The Empire State Building’s elevators could travel at 1,200 feet per minute (that’s about 14mph), a then-staggering speed for the era. Achieving this speed required improvements across multiple fronts: 

  • More powerful traction motors 
  • Improved braking and control systems 
  • Stronger hoist ropes and guide rails 
  • Refined counterweight balancing 

But high lift-speed alone wasn’t the only challenge or consideration. Passenger comfort mattered just as much (ask anyone who’s been on an especially bumpy or noisy elevator). Rapid acceleration and deceleration could lead to discomfort, ear pressure changes, and safety implications. With speed came new challenges. In fact, elevator engineers had to carefully tune their lift motion to balance performance and passenger experience. 

Efficiency at Scale 

The Empire State Building incorporated multiple elevator banks, each one serving a defined vertical zone above. Some elevators ran express to sky lobbies, where passengers transferred to local elevators serving upper floors. This, in fact, was a strategy that foretold modern super-tall design (it was actually a key design element of the World Trade Center twin, 110-story towers in New York prior to 2001). 

Even today, the Empire State Building’s elevator logic is still recognizable to elevator mechanics and industry professionals. The technology has evolved, but the underlying principles remain remarkably consistent. 

What Accounts for Elevator Speed? 

The Burj Khalifa in Dubai at 2,717 feet. The 2,222-foot Merdeka 118 in Kuala Lumpur. China’s Shanghai Tower at 2,073 feet. Modern skyscrapers push heights once thought impossible. But to enable that extraordinary vertical achievement, elevator speeds have climbed accordingly. Some of the world’s fastest elevators (such as those in the Shanghai Tower) now exceed 4,000 feet per minute. This leap wasn’t the result of a single invention, but a convergence of multiple technological advances. 

A few of the factors drove those speed records: 

  • Advanced Motor and Drive Systems. 

    The transition from early electric motors to high-efficiency permanent magnet synchronous motors dramatically improved power and control.  

  • Improved Materials and Ropes. 

    Traditional steel wire ropes are heavy, especially at extreme heights. Modern systems increasingly rely on materials that are lighter, stronger, and more durable. Reduced cable weight enables  higher speeds and longer travel distances without compromising safety. 

  • Sophisticated Control Algorithms. 

    Much like the world around us more generally, modern elevators rely on software as much as hardware to function as they do. Computer-assisted dispatching systems can analyze traffic patterns in real time, grouping passengers and predicting demand.  

  • Ride Comfort and Aerodynamics. 

    At very high speeds, air pressure inside the vertical shaft, or the hoistway, itself becomes a factor. As such, engineers must now account for aerodynamic drag, pressure equalization, and vibration control in ways that were never needed in Frank W. Woolworth’s day. Advanced guide shoes, roller guides, and active damping systems which can help reduce or suppress vibration ensure a smooth ride—even at extreme velocities. 

Elevator Look Back: What’s Changed and What Hasn’t 

The world’s tallest buildings, from the Burj Khalifa to the Shanghai Tower, rely on principles first demonstrated over a century ago on 233 Broadway in New York. But they apply them at an entirely different scale. 

What Has Stayed the Same with the Modern Elevator 

  • Zoning remains essential. No modern supertall building relies on a single elevator bank to quickly and efficiently shuttle riders throughout a building. 
  • Express and local systems still dominate vertical planning. 
  • Elevator cores continue to shape building design, influencing floor plates, structural layouts, and leasable space. 

In other words, while the building height has clearly changed, today’s systems are refinements of concepts proven in the Woolworth and Empire State buildings. 

What’s Different Now with the Modern Elevator 

  • Sky lobbies are far more sophisticated, often stacked at multiple levels throughout supertall buildings. 
  • Double-deck elevators move two cabs at once, increasing capacity without expanding shaft space. 
  • Destination dispatch systems eliminate traditional call buttons, directing passengers to assigned elevators before they board. 
  • Ultra-high-speed elevators require pressurized cabins and specialized safety systems. 

What’s Next for Elevator Technology? 

Since 1913, the race to the sky has never been just about just height. It’s also been about movement, and how quickly, safely, and comfortably people can travel through vertical space. From the Woolworth Building’s pioneering elevator zoning strategy to today’s computer-driven and comfort-based accommodations, elevator progress has been practical and deeply rooted in solving the real-world passenger constraints inside these metal boxes. 

In short, this is not just a history lesson. For elevator manufacturers and service professionals, this century-plus context is an ongoing reminder that innovation often comes from solving practical operational challenges. And as cities grow denser and buildings rise higher, elevators will remain the indispensable technology that’s often literally at the center of it all. 

Haugwout building_IUEC_ElevatorInfo_Elevator News Resource

It might be heresy to some, but Orville and Wilbur Wright did not invent flying in 1903. For centuries others had dabbled with lighter-than-air balloons, and later airplane prototypes were built and tested by an intrepid lot (there’s also the matter of those things called birds). Rather, what the bicycle-maker brothers from Dayton, Ohio invented was a way to control powered flight allowing their planes—and virtually all that followed in the remarkable aviation industry they launched—to take off, change direction, altitude, and then land safely again. Their breakthrough invention in three-axis control not only changed flight, but the entire world around us. 

A similar scenario played out exactly 50 years earlier when a young industrious craftsman and entrepreneur named Elisha Graves Otis tinkered with controlling elevators, finally making them safe for human passengers. Like the Wright Brothers, Otis did not invent the product category: cargo and industrial elevators were prevalent by the 1850s. Even writings from ancient times claim that Greek mathematician Archimedes designed an early elevator in 236 BCE using ropes wound around a drum turned by men. But what Otis created would change city skylines by allowing people to safely and conveniently access vertical spaces for the first time. 

The Problem Before the Elevator: Height Without Safety 

Before the mid-19th century, hoists and crude elevators were used in factories, warehouses, and mines to move goods. Some even transported people, but they were widely regarded as dangerous. The greatest risk was the rope: if it snapped, the platform plunged. This danger made passenger elevators impractical for commercial use, especially in public buildings where liability and reputation mattered. 

As a result, building design and merchandising of products reflected human limitations. Upper floors were less desirable, often reserved for storage, servants, or the poor. Retailers placed their most valuable goods on the ground floor, knowing customers were reluctant to climb. Cities expanded outward rather than upward, constrained not by engineering ambition but by fear. 

This was the environment into which Otis, a master mechanic from Halifax, Vermont, who was already producing a mix of labor-saving devices, developed and introduced a deceptively simple idea: a safety brake that would stop an elevator car if its hoisting rope failed.  

Elisha Otis and the Safety Breakthrough 

As noted, Otis was not the first to think about vertical transport, but he was the first to solve its most critical problem in a way that captured public confidence. His elevator safety brake used spring-loaded pawls that engaged with guide rails when tension on the hoisting rope was lost, instantly halting the car from falling. 

The brilliance of Otis’s innovation lay not only in its mechanics, but in how he proved it worked. At the 1853 World’s Fair in New York (also called the Industry of All Nations), Otis staged one of the most famous demonstrations in industrial history. Standing atop a hoisted platform high above the crowd, Otis boldly ordered the rope cut. The platform dropped only a few inches before the safety brake engaged. 

The demonstration was brilliantly theatrical, and intentionally so. None other than showman P.T. Barnum, the master of selling spectacle at the time, helped promote the event that aimed to transform fear into fascination. After the rope was cut, Otis would declare to the gathered crowd, “All safe, gentlemen. All safe” which echoed far beyond the exhibition hall. For the first time, the public could imagine elevators not as death traps, but as reliable machines to move people in vertical spaces. 

In the wake of this fair and his demonstrations, Otis’s elevator company, regarded as the first ever, would sell eight elevators in 1854 and 15 the following year. But really it was an installation in New York City that would go on to change the world. 

 The Haughwout Store: A Commercial Gamble 

On March 23, 1857, shoppers entering the elegant E.V. Haughwout & Co. department store at the corner of Broadway and Broome Street encountered something entirely new: a steam-powered passenger elevator serving the five-floor building. Haughwout was a luxury retailer catering to New York’s elite, including figures such as Mary Todd Lincoln. The store itself was architecturally ambitious, featuring one of the city’s first cast-iron façades, a symbol of modernity and innovation. The new elevator promised to carry customers effortlessly to the store’s upper floors—safely, smoothly, and without the challenges and exertion of climbing flights of stairs (particularly for women in fancy, bulky clothing).  

The elevator fit perfectly with this image Haughwout wanted to project. Powered by steam and operated by an attendant, it could lift customers to the upper floors, where fine china, glassware, and luxury goods awaited. For the first time, height became an asset rather than a liability in retail design. 

From a commercial perspective, the installation was bold. The elevator was expensive, unproven in daily public use, and required specialized operation and maintenance. Yet its presence distinguished Haughwout’s store from competitors and reinforced its reputation as a destination for cutting-edge luxury.  

A Short Life, But a Long Shadow 

And yet, despite its promise, the Haughwout elevator did not remain in operation for long—likely only until around 1860. Several factors contributed to its short lifespan. Steam-powered elevators were noisy, mechanically complex, and costly to operate. Maintenance demands were high, and the surrounding technology ecosystem, such as standardized components, trained elevator technicians, and regulatory guidance, had yet to develop. 

Equally important, the market itself was still adapting. Customers were intrigued, but elevators had not yet become an expectation. Stairs remained acceptable and the norm, and the economic advantage of vertical retail had not fully materialized. 

From a modern standpoint, it is tempting to see this as a failure. It was a prototype in the truest sense: an early commercial test that proved feasibility, revealed limitations, and set the stage for rapid improvement. 

From Curiosity to Necessity 

In the decades that followed, elevator technology evolved quickly. Hydraulic systems replaced steam for many applications, offering smoother and quieter operation. Electric elevators, introduced toward the end of the 19th century, dramatically improved speed, reliability, and efficiency. 

At the same time, urban pressures intensified. Growing populations, limited land, and rising property values made vertical construction economically attractive. The safe, dependable elevator, a direct legacy of Otis’ invention, became essential infrastructure. Buildings with operating elevators could now grow upward without sacrificing usability or prestige. 

The implications for architecture were profound. Skyscrapers, once an abstract concept, became viable. Entire industries—from structural steel to curtain walls—developed in response. None of this would have been possible without the trust established by Otis’s early safety innovations. 

The Modern Elevator: A Direct Descendant 

Today’s elevators bear little mechanical resemblance to the steam-powered car at Haughwout’s store, yet the core principles remain the same. Safety systems are still the foundation of design, now layered with redundancies, sensors, software, and rigorous codes. 

Modern elevators are faster, quieter, and more efficient than Otis could have imagined. The elevators, and the mechanics who support them, manage complex traffic patterns in supertall buildings, integrate with fire and security systems, and increasingly use data analytics to optimize performance and maintenance. 

Yet every modern passenger elevator carries forward the same promise made in 1857: safe, reliable vertical transportation for the public. That promise began not with perfection, but with a willingness to test, demonstrate, and improve. 

Why This History Matters to the Industry 

For today’s elevator professionals, the story of the Haughwout elevator offers several enduring lessons. First, innovation often enters the market imperfectly. Early systems may be short-lived, but their influence can be permanent. Second, public trust is as critical as technical performance. Otis succeeded not only because his brake worked, but because he convinced people it worked. 

Finally, the elevator industry has always been intertwined with broader economic and social forces. Retail ambition, urban density, architectural vision, and engineering ingenuity converged in 1857—and continue to do so today. 

Like the pioneering airplane from the Wright Brothers, the first commercial passenger elevator from Elisha Otis may have lasted only a few years, but it permanently altered how we build, shop, work, and live. In that sense, the brief rise and fall of the Haughwout elevator marks not an ending, but the true beginning of the vertical age.