a large fire with smoke and sparks

When Firefighter Air Runs Out: The Plaintiff and Municipal Liability

July 1, 2026

There is a moment in every high-rise fire that changes everything. It happens quietly, beneath the noise of the fireground. A low-air alarm sounds inside a mask. A crew transmits a Mayday. A civilian on the fourteenth floor is still waiting when the interior attack is pulled back. That moment is not an accident. It is the downstream consequence of decisions made years earlier, at a permit counter or a code hearing, by people who had the knowledge, the authority, and the opportunity to require something different.

This article examines the legal framework through which a plaintiff, whether a surviving family member, an injured firefighter, or an estate, constructs a negligence case against a municipality or fire department that failed to require air standpipe systems for firefighters, that could have prevented death or injury because firefighters had the necessary air resupply to carry out the interior attack. The only air standpipe today is called the Firefighter Air Replenishment Systems (FARS), installed in buildings where air depletion was not only foreseeable but documented. It is an honest account of the legal exposure that exists, written to help the people in a position to change the outcome understand what the legal record looks like when they do not consider the needs of firefighters and civilians on the worst day of their lives.

Municipal liability in fire safety cases is grounded in a principle that courts have recognized for generations: a government that exercises regulatory authority over the built environment assumes a corresponding duty to exercise that authority with reasonable care. When a city approves the construction of a forty-story residential tower or a million-square-foot distribution center, it is not acting as a passive bystander. It is certifying, through the permit it issues and the certificate of occupancy it grants, that the structure meets the standards necessary for it to be safely occupied, safely evacuated, and safely defended.

That duty is not eliminated by the existence of governmental immunity. In many states, immunity protections for municipal defendants are waived when the conduct at issue crosses from discretionary policy judgment into operational failure, when a known risk is documented and no reasonable action is taken, or when the evidence supports a finding of gross negligence. The real legal question is whether the decisions made about these buildings, measured against the documented operational record and the available mitigation, reflect the kind of reasonable policy judgment immunity was designed to protect, or something far less defensible.

The Four Elements of Negligence: How a Plaintiff Builds the Case

Every negligence case requires four elements. A plaintiff who cannot establish all four cannot prevail. In the context of a municipality or fire department that has authorized high-rise or large-footprint occupancies without requiring an air standpipe system for firefighter air resupply, each element is available to a skilled plaintiff’s attorney with access to the operational record.

Duty is the obligation to protect occupants and emergency responders through reasonable regulation of fire safety. Courts have consistently recognized this duty as flowing from the act of authorization itself. The municipality that issued the permit created the duty. The fire department that accepted operational responsibility for that structure assumed it.

Breach is the failure to require or implement available air resupply systems in qualifying structures. The breach is established not by arguing that the air standpipe was theoretically possible, but by demonstrating that it was specifically recognized in Appendix L of the International Fire Code, in Appendix F of the Uniform Fire Code, and in the relevant NFPA appendices as the appropriate response to a documented operational deficiency. More than 400 jurisdictions across 26 states have adopted requirements for the air standpipe. Each adoption is evidence that the standard of care recognized this obligation. The defendant jurisdiction’s failure to act is evidence that it chose not to meet it.

Causation is the link between that breach and the harm. In a high-rise or large-footprint fire where air depletion contributed to a delayed rescue, an abandoned interior attack, or a firefighter entrapment, causation is established by the timeline. A plaintiff’s expert walks the jury through the sequence: when the alarm was received, when the crew reached the operational floor, what their air supply showed at that point, when the low-air warning activated, what options the crew had, and what the outcome was for the people who needed them to have more time. That timeline, reconstructed from incident reports, SCBA data downloads, and radio logs, is the causation argument.

Damages are the death, injury, or property loss that resulted from the delay. Juries understand this element intuitively. When a family loses someone to a high-rise fire and can demonstrate that help was delayed because the building did not have the infrastructure to sustain interior operations, the damages are not abstract. They are a life cut short, a family changed forever, and a preventable outcome that the law exists to remedy.

The Civilian Case: When Rescue Comes Too Late

The civilian side of this case is where the legal argument carries the greatest moral weight, and where juries are most likely to reach a verdict that municipalities will remember for a generation.

Consider the situation from the perspective of a family whose relative died on an upper floor of a building the city permitted and certified. The firefighters dispatched to that building performed with courage and skill. They made every decision the situation allowed. But the situation itself was one the municipality had the authority and the knowledge to prevent from becoming unsurvivable. The crew that should have reached that floor was turned back by a low-air alarm. The window for a successful rescue closed during the time it took to retrieve cylinders and return. No amount of courage closes that gap without the infrastructure to sustain the operation.

A plaintiff’s attorney presenting this case to a jury is not asking the jury to second-guess the firefighters. The attorney is asking the jury to evaluate the decisions made by the people who approved the building. The question is whether those decision-makers, with everything they knew about high-rise fire dynamics, SCBA limitations, and the recognized role of air standpipe systems in addressing both, acted reasonably when they issued the permit and walked away. The argument answers itself.

This is the civilian negligence claim in its most direct form. The municipality approved a structure that created a foreseeable operational bottleneck. That bottleneck delayed the rescue of an occupant who could not self-evacuate. That occupant died. And the municipality had been on constructive notice, through nationally published model code appendices and the documented adoption record of peer jurisdictions, that this exact scenario was preventable through infrastructure it chose not to require.

A Mayday transmission is the fire service’s most urgent declaration. In a courtroom, it becomes something else: a timestamped, radio-logged record of the precise moment when the absence of air resupply infrastructure produced a life-threatening situation for a member of the public whose employer sent them into a building the government had certified as safe.

Line-of-duty injuries and deaths that trace to air depletion in large structures carry acute legal exposure. The plaintiff in a firefighter case is typically a surviving family member or the firefighter themselves, and the argument they bring is built on the same negligence framework as the civilian case, with additional force. The firefighter did not choose to enter that building. They were dispatched under a duty to respond. They operated within structures the municipality had authorized. The conditions that produced their injury or death, specifically the elevation, the physical demand of the stair climb, the accelerated air consumption, and the absence of any mechanism to resupply without abandoning the operational area, were all known characteristics of the built environment the municipality sanctioned.

The firefighter rule, which limits tort recovery in some states for injuries arising from the risks inherent in firefighting, does not immunize the defendants in this type of case. The rule applies to ordinary hazards of the profession. It does not apply when the hazard was created or materially increased by the negligence of a third party who had the authority and the obligation to prevent it. A municipality that approved a structure without requiring the air standpipe system, in the face of documented operational knowledge and nationally recognized code provisions, is that third party. The firefighter rule is not the shield the municipality hopes it will be.

When Negligence Becomes Recklessness: The Escalating Standard

The relationship between firefighter cancer, toxic combustion exposure, and the limitations of SCBA air supply is no longer confined to specialized trade publications. The epidemiological links are now the subject of mainstream news coverage, federal health agency reports, and state legislative action. The public conversation about what firefighters breathe, how long they breathe it, and what the consequences are has been happening in city councils, state legislatures, and union halls for years.

That visibility matters in a negligence case. When a municipality can be shown to have received formal notification of the air resupply gap through fire service advocacy, peer jurisdiction adoptions, code committee communications, or direct briefings from its own fire chief, and still declined to act, the conduct is no longer defensible as a reasonable policy disagreement. A plaintiff’s attorney will argue reckless disregard for safety. In the most serious cases, where the record shows a pattern of deliberate non-response to documented risk, the argument escalates to gross negligence.

The practical consequence of a gross negligence finding is significant. In many states, gross negligence pierces governmental immunity protections that would otherwise limit municipal liability for ordinary tort claims. It opens the door to punitive damages. And it reframes the narrative for the jury from a government that made a reasonable mistake to one that knew the risk, knew the solution, and made a choice. That reframe is extraordinarily difficult for a municipal defendant to recover from.

What the Plaintiff’s Expert Will Say About Peer Jurisdictions

One of the most powerful tools available to a plaintiff in a municipal negligence case is the peer jurisdiction argument, and in a case where a qualifying building was permitted without an air standpipe system, that argument is exceptionally well-developed. More than 400 jurisdictions across 26 states have adopted FARS requirements as part of their fire code framework. San Francisco, San Antonio, Las Vegas, and major metropolitan areas across the country have determined, through their own code processes, that requiring air standpipe systems in high-rise and large-footprint structures is both reasonable and necessary.

A plaintiff’s expert will stand before a jury and identify each of those jurisdictions by name. They will explain what FARS is and how it works. They will describe the International Fire Code Appendix L, which is the nationally recognized model framework for this requirement. They will then explain, with precise language, that the defendant municipality was aware of that appendix and chose not to adopt it. The question they leave the jury with is a simple one: if more than 400 communities across this country decided that requiring this system was the right thing to do, what does it say about the community sitting at the defense table that chose not to?

There is no comfortable answer to that question. That is precisely why the peer jurisdiction record is so effective, and why every adoption announcement from a new city or county makes the legal position of non-adopting jurisdictions incrementally harder to defend.

The Developer Preference Problem

Somewhere in the record of most non-adopting jurisdictions, there is a conversation about cost. Air standpipe requirements add expense to new construction. Developers raise that concern. Building departments weigh it. City councils hear it. And in some cases, the code adoption process arrives at a decision that prioritizes the developer’s cost structure over the documented life-safety need.

A plaintiff’s attorney will find that conversation in the discovery record, and they will put it in front of the jury in the most direct possible terms. When a municipality can be shown to have traded off a documented life-safety measure against a developer’s preference for lower construction costs, and a civilian or firefighter subsequently died in a building that would have had the Firefighter Air Replenishment System (FARS) if that trade had gone differently, the case becomes something more than a technical negligence argument. It becomes a story about what the city valued and who paid the price.

Juries understand stories about institutional priorities. They are not sympathetic to the argument that a city chose a developer’s margin over a firefighter’s life or a resident’s chance of rescue. That argument, once made in a courtroom, is nearly impossible to rebut on the facts.

What Fire Departments and Municipalities Can Do Today to Reduce Liability Exposure

Understanding the plaintiff’s framework is not an exercise in pessimism. It is an invitation to act before the case gets filed. The legal exposure described in this article is real, and it grows with every new structure permitted without FARS and every year the peer adoption record expands without the jurisdiction in question joining it. The exposure is closeable, and closing it requires exactly what the fire service has been demanding on operational grounds: reliable air resupply in structures where carried air is not enough. The legal case for air standpipes and the operational case for FARS is the same case. Jurisdictions that have refused to hear one will answer for both.

Fire departments can conduct a formal, documented assessment of every high-rise and large-footprint building in their response area, evaluating whether crews can realistically accomplish search, rescue, suppression, and overhaul within the air they carry. Where the answer is no, that assessment should go to municipal leadership in writing. A fire chief who puts the operational gap on the record has fulfilled a professional and legal obligation. A fire chief who identifies the gap and says nothing is a co-author of the liability that follows.

Municipalities can initiate the code adoption process for Appendix L of the International Fire Code and the corresponding state and local provisions. Adoption creates an affirmative legal record: the jurisdiction recognized the risk, evaluated the available mitigation, and chose to require it. That record is as useful to a municipal attorney defending a future case as the absence of it is to a plaintiff building one. Fire departments can also decide that air standpipes are necessary in their jurisdiction and require the systems without the codes. Architects and developers can also be proactive and build air standpipes into these massive structures because it’s the safest way to protect firefighters and civilians.

Building departments can add FARS to the pre-permit checklist for qualifying structures, creating a routine checkpoint that does not depend on any individual official’s initiative or awareness of the issue. Risk managers can include air standpipe for firefighter air resupply compliance in the municipal risk assessment framework, ensuring that the exposure described in this article is on the radar of the people responsible for managing it. City attorneys can brief elected officials on what the legal record looks like in the absence of adoption, using the peer jurisdiction record and the model code framework as the reference point.

None of these actions are extraordinary. None require resources the jurisdiction does not already have. They require institutional will: the willingness to treat a documented operational gap as the legal risk it is, rather than a technical dispute best left to the fire code committee. The plaintiff’s attorney who files a case in the aftermath of a high-rise or large footprint structure fatality will not be asking what the fire code committee thought. They will be asking what the city did with what it knew. These actions are the answer.

The Record That Protects and the Record that Convicts

The most important thing a municipal official, fire chief, or city attorney can understand about the legal framework described in this article is that the same body of evidence that makes the plaintiff’s case also defines the defense. The model codes, the peer adoption record, the fire service publications, the LODD reports, the SCBA data, the pre-incident plans — all of it exists regardless of what the jurisdiction decides to do. The question is whether the jurisdiction acts on it or does not.

A jurisdiction that acts on it builds a record of reasonable precaution. That record is the strongest protection available against the kind of litigation described in this article. A jurisdiction that does not act on it leaves the record in the hands of a plaintiff’s attorney, who will use it to tell a story that no city wants told about itself in a courtroom.

The built environment keeps growing upward and outward. The buildings being permitted today are the fire scenes of tomorrow. The decisions being made at permit counters and in code hearings right now will determine whether those fire scenes are places where firefighters can sustain operations and civilians survive waiting for rescue, or places where the air runs out before the rescue is complete and someone has to answer for it.

The plaintiff’s case, when it comes, will be built on what was known, what was available, and what was ignored. The defense that avoids that case entirely is the one being built today, in the permit office and the code hearing and the fire chief’s written report to city hall. Fire departments that start that conversation now, that put the operational gap on the record, brief their municipal leadership, and push for adoption, are not just protecting their crews. They are writing the document that proves their city chose to act. That document is the difference.


This is the fourth article in the Firefighter Air Coalition’s series on municipal liability and the legal case for Firefighter Air Replenishment Systems. Model code language, technical guidance, and advocacy resources are available at aircoalition.org.

Thanks to Michael Anderson, firefighter and legal expert with Anderson Consulting, for making this case so clear, and for bringing this matter to the forefront – for firefighters and civilians.

 

Firefighter Air Coalition