Definitely understood. In my case, I don't want to deal with a setup that is unsafe or doesn't ride well.
... From the perspective of braking and transmission, towing 2000# is the same as hauling 2000#, and a half ton truck can tow 2000 without much extra wear and tear on the brakes and transmission. Or at least it should be well within the design parameters.
Yes, this is what I'm saying, thanks for clarifying. The brakes/transmission are not the issue.
I'm 100% in agreement with your philosophy of wanting a setup that's safe and rides well, as that is my goal as well, and so I've tried to learn as much as I can about how weight impacts vehicles over the years. Transmissions are usually not the issue, but brakes for sure are.
Transmission issues are less likely in a truck with a tow package but that has nothing to do with the weight and everything to do with the transmission coolers. In my experience, keep autos cool, and no matter how much work they need to do (towing or hauling, within reason), they'll typically run a really long time with minimal complications or reliability issues. A transmission that is strong enough to tow thousands of pounds will have no problem hauling the same weights, provided it's kept cool.
But, 2,000 lbs in a bed is a lot more impactful on braking than 2,000 lbs in a trailer. The issue is weight distribution. At or under the spec'd payload, the vehicle is typically balanced nicely between front and rear. But if you exceed that payload by putting too much extra weight in the bed, the weight in the back can cause the front of the truck to lift up, pivoting around the rear axle.
The impact of this means less friction up front. In a braking situation, the majority of the work (upwards of 70% I believe) is done by the front brakes, but they are only as good as the friction between the tires and the ground, which is compromised when there's a lot of weight in the back. While the weight will shift as soon as you hit the breaks, even a few milliseconds of having less weight on the front end while this shift is occurring is enough to dramatically impair breaking performance. This is very distinct from towing a 2,000 lbs weight, because that weight is contained behind the vehicle on it's own axle, and the ball weight (the weight that is "lifting" the front of the truck) is usually pretty small (i.e. 500 lbs or less for Class III hitches). Therefore, the weight of the front of the truck is still pretty good when towing 2k lbs, and therefore the brakes work as designed in towing, as compared to when hauling a similar heavy weight in the bed. This is why trucks with a payload of only 1900 lbs can tow over 9,700 lbs (specs pulled from my 1500-series pickup that I just sold).
The issue for the brakes isn't wear and tear; Stopping more weight absolutely will wear out pads faster as there's more moving mass to slow down, and the brakes do that via friction, so heavier trucks will go through pads faster, and that is true whether they are towing or hauling. The issue is what happens in an emergency, and that is why this impact to braking is so important to parse out a bit.
Put simply, weight and stopping distance are proportional -- if weight is doubled, stopping power must also be doubled. You can offset this "shift in weight problem" I described above with a well designed suspension system -- one that holds weight better in the rear end and prevents the front end from pivoting up. This works in theory, but that doesn't typically translate to a good idea in emergencies. There's two issues -- first, in order for a suspension system to do this load carrying well, it needs to be engineered holistically with the rest of the vehicle (brakes, tire sizes/ratings, suspension geometry under load, drive shaft angles, CV joints, wishbones, etc.). In order to
properly uprate a vehicles payload, you need to switch a lot more than just the suspension. A good example of this is the Australian rigs -- often to increase payload, they are scabbing in frame braces, axle gussets, and so much more than what you get in a typical 'suspension kit'. These are signed off by proper engineers, as is required to be legit in Australia. In fact, I don't know of a single reputable suspension kit that even claims to increase carry capacity -- all they do is improve performance near max GVM, because that's fairly easy (tune the shocks and springs to match the weight) relative to increasing GVM.
The second problem is that upgrading the vehicle can give you false confidence and make things way worse in emergencies. If you do put in airbags or stiffer springs, odds are good that you can make the truck "feel" pretty good day to day. It'll handle well, probably won't feel too underpowered, etc. But that math from earlier -- if weight is doubled, stopping power must also be doubled -- has a cousin "law" about speed: If speed is doubled, stopping power must be quadrupled. More confidence usually means more speed.
So lets make up a story that illustrates how this all comes together to make big problems in real life. Timmy and his truck are driving down the road. The truck is stock with a 1500 lbs payload. Timmy has it loaded for bear though, with a 2,000 lbs camper, his 250lbs self, 500 lbs of miscellaneous recovery gear and camping kit, plus food, water, and the dog so he's sitting at 3,000 lbs of weight. Seems extreme, but doubling payload isn't that uncommon when campers are involved. He drives his stock truck down the road, but once he gets north of about 60 kph the steering starts feeling really light, and the front end starts drifting back and forth. The tiniest input into the steering wheel causes the front to "float" around and it's deeply unsettling as a driver, so Timmy slows down a bit and nurses his truck back home at 50 kph, where things seem to settle down a bit. He's obviously too heavy, and the car isn't safe to drive. If you want to see what Timmy was feeling like, go put a yard or two of gravel in your truck and go for a cruise. Keep adding gravel till you notice a difference in handling -- it won't even be over the bed rails before you start feeling what Timmy felt in this story, and it usually seems fine until you hit a certain speed.
So anyway, Timmy knows he's too heavy so he hops on Expedition Portal, asks for advice, and decides to shop at one of our vendor partners for some airbags and upgraded springs. The next weekend he's out and whoo-boy, his truck is handling like a dream. The front end stays stable past 60 kph, and pretty soon he's able to cruise down the highway at 100 kph. Truck feels great, everything is working well. Little does Timmy know, Bullwinkle is visiting the salt lick in the middle of the road about 100 feet ahead.
Timmy's truck as it came from the dealer (and let's say it's only loaded to max payload) could stop in about 60 feet at 100 kph. He'd be safe from Bullwinkle because his truck performs as it should.
Timmy's truck loaded up to double his payload, but before his upgraded suspension, would theoretically need 120 feet (double the weight, twice the distance) to stop from 100 kph, which means Timmy would be rushing to a date with Bullwinkle, but since his suspension wasn't upgraded the other day, the truck clearly told him that he wasn't able to go much faster than 50 kph. His stopping distance, overloaded as he is, is probably still under 60 feet at 50 kph, since he's not going that fast. So, if Bullwinkle made a showing the other day, Timmy would probably be fine and stop in time from 50 kph down to zero to avoid a Moose Surprise. And, he'd think "Gee, that was a close one. Glad this truck's brakes worked good". And he'd be wrong about that -- they'd feel good, but they would be performing extremely poorly relatively speaking, but because he was still able to stop in time to avoid the moose, he doesn't really notice that his brakes are now garbage. Remember, he was only going 50 kph here.
But today, with Timmy's upgraded truck's better suspension that lets him cruise at 100 kph (double his speed of the other day), fully loaded with his 3,000 lbs of gear, and with Bullwinkle 100 feet away on the road ahead, Timmy has a problem. He now needs
240 feet to stop his truck (4 times the distance). Essentially, that's almost an extra football field of distance. With a total stopping distance of 240 feet, Timmy is only half of the way through his braking distance when he hits the moose -- that means it's not even
close. He hits that moose at near highway speeds. It doesn't go well for Bullwinkle, but it goes a lot worse for Timmy and his dog; the moose goes up over the hood of the truck and into the cab, right beside Timmy. Timmy gets a hoof in the head from the moose thrashing around, and dies slowly on the side of the road.
The dog is fine though and lived happily ever after.
The moral of the story: Timmy should have bought a truck rated for the weight he needed, because a suspension upgrade on it's own is not enough for a truck to carry a camper it wasn't designed for. And dogs are too pure to die in stories.
(The above is super simplified and doesn't account for reaction times or anything like that so the math might be off by a bit, but my goal is to illustrate the order-of-magnitude impact of weight on breaking distance in a "real world" scenario).