That's right: When Gustave Eiffel designed the tower, he had to abide by the rules of the "build a huge freaking thing" contest for the 1889 World's Fair (the only reason the tower was built), with one of the stipulations being that it could easily be torn down when the city of Paris got the land back from a 20-year lease. So Eiffel ordered up a metric shit-ton of the cheapest iron he could get his hands on, tinker-toyed it up into the tallest structure the world had ever seen and said, "Eh, that looks like it should last at least 20 years."
"It's just a giant tower in a highly populated city. No need for any safety precautions."
The tower turned out to be the big hit of the exposition, which temporarily quieted its detractors, but when 1909 rolled around and the demolition date loomed, they renewed their harrumphing with a fervor -- they were just itching to finally be rid of the ugly thing. And it looked like they were going to have their way, right up until Eiffel grasped onto a newfangled invention in the hopes that it would help extend the life of his brainchild: radio.
Eiffel had this wild idea that radio seemed like it could become the next big communications device. And since radios needed a tall place to send long-range messages, the world's most hated -- but tallest -- structure seemed like an ideal spot for a radio tower. And it was: Eiffel stuck a radio transmitter at the top of the tower and offered it to the French Ministry of War as a communications base, enabling their messages to make it all the way across the English Channel. With war quickly building up with Germany and Italy, the radio proved to be a useful wartime instant messaging system.
"It's the Lunchtime Request Hour. Call in some Skynyrd!"