Witnesses forget. Memories conflict. Motives get murky. HR is left piecing together timelines, credibility, and intent from incomplete information, while everyone involved insists they did nothing wrong.
And then there are the easy ones.
Take the paramedic who now faces nearly two dozen criminal charges for allegedly urinating all over his workplace — on a supervisor's keyboard, into communal coffee creamer, an ice machine, orange juice, hand soap, ChapStick, canned vegetables, an air-conditioner vent, even a pot of chili. According to prosecutors, he didn't just do it. He filmed himself doing it. In uniform. Then allegedly posted the videos online to sell.
From an employment-law perspective, this is the unicorn investigation. The accused employee didn't just confess. He created high-definition evidence, complete with a thumbs-up to the camera.
No "he said/she said."
No credibility assessments.
No close calls about intent.
When an employee documents his own misconduct, the investigation largely writes itself. The employer's job shifts from "what happened?" to "how fast can we act, and how do we protect everyone else?"
That doesn't mean these cases are simple emotionally or operationally. Contaminated food, violated trust, horrified coworkers, reputational damage — those are real issues employers must address carefully. But the core investigative challenge? Solved by the employee himself.
The lesson isn't that investigations are usually this easy. They're not. The lesson is that employers need to be prepared for the extreme, the bizarre, and the unthinkable — and to respond decisively when clear evidence drops in their lap. At that point, HR's hardest job may be keeping a straight face while drafting the termination paperwork.
And then there are the easy ones.
Take the paramedic who now faces nearly two dozen criminal charges for allegedly urinating all over his workplace — on a supervisor's keyboard, into communal coffee creamer, an ice machine, orange juice, hand soap, ChapStick, canned vegetables, an air-conditioner vent, even a pot of chili. According to prosecutors, he didn't just do it. He filmed himself doing it. In uniform. Then allegedly posted the videos online to sell.
From an employment-law perspective, this is the unicorn investigation. The accused employee didn't just confess. He created high-definition evidence, complete with a thumbs-up to the camera.
No "he said/she said."
No credibility assessments.
No close calls about intent.
When an employee documents his own misconduct, the investigation largely writes itself. The employer's job shifts from "what happened?" to "how fast can we act, and how do we protect everyone else?"
That doesn't mean these cases are simple emotionally or operationally. Contaminated food, violated trust, horrified coworkers, reputational damage — those are real issues employers must address carefully. But the core investigative challenge? Solved by the employee himself.
The lesson isn't that investigations are usually this easy. They're not. The lesson is that employers need to be prepared for the extreme, the bizarre, and the unthinkable — and to respond decisively when clear evidence drops in their lap. At that point, HR's hardest job may be keeping a straight face while drafting the termination paperwork.