Lawsuits aren't lottery tickets. Or at least they shouldn't be.

Too often, plaintiffs' lawyers file thin, borderline frivolous employment claims hoping for a quick nuisance-value settlement. The math is simple: it's cheaper for an employer to pay a few thousand dollars to make a case disappear than to spend tens (or hundreds) of thousands defending it.

And yes, sometimes that works. The business case often just makes sense for businesses.

But not always. Plenty of employers—especially those who believe they've done nothing wrong—will dig in and fight. Hard.

That's where the real disservice to the employee begins.

5 steps for an employer to win an off-the-clock overtime claim

Jerry Merritt, an agency manager for the Texas Farm Bureau, claimed 816 hours of unpaid overtime. Even assuming he had been misclassified as an independent contractor, he still lost.

Here's why.

Bribery scandals don't start with bad employees; they start with bad culture

When a bribery scandal hits a company, the corporate response is almost always the same: These were bad employees acting on their own.

Maybe. But usually not.

Consider the current mess involving Southern Glazer's Wine & Spirits, the largest alcohol distributor in the United States. 

WIRTW #792: the 'CBC' edition

Happy staff brew better beer.

It's obvious when you think about it.

A team that feels respected, valued, and heard shows up differently. They care more. They collaborate better. They solve problems faster. And yes—the beer, the taproom experience, and the business all benefit.

Yet for an industry built on passion, craft, and community, too many breweries still struggle with workplace culture.

Long hours. Thin margins. High stress. High turnover.

It's easy to focus all your energy on recipes, distribution, and survival while overlooking the single most important ingredient in your brewery: your people.

And when that happens, the consequences show up fast—burnout, disengagement, toxic dynamics, and constant turnover.

Replacing an employee isn’t cheap. Depending on the role, it can cost up to 50% of that employee's annual salary to recruit, hire, and train someone new. In breweries—where production and taproom roles already see high turnover—that cost adds up quickly.

But here's the good news: building a great workplace culture doesn't require a massive budget or a full-time HR department.

It requires intention.

That’s exactly what I'll be talking about at the Craft Brewers Conference this April in Philly.

Happy Staff, Better Craft: Brewing a Better Workplace
📅 Wednesday, April 22
⏰ 10:15–11:15 AM
📍 Room 201-AB

In this session, we'll dig into the connection between employee engagement and brewery success—and why culture isn't just a feel-good concept, but a real business strategy.

We’ll talk about:

• Why happy employees make better beer (and better customer experiences)
• How better communication can prevent most workplace conflicts before they start
• Simple, low-cost ways to recognize and reward your team
• How to design brewing and taproom jobs people actually want to stay in
• What leadership looks like when you lead like a worker instead of a boss

My goal isn't theory. It's practical tools.

The brewing industry is full of passionate people who love what they do. But passion alone isn't a workplace strategy. If breweries want to thrive long term, they have to invest in the people who make the beer, pour the pints, and represent the brand every day.

Great breweries don't just brew great beer.

They build great workplaces.

If you're heading to CBC this year, come join me. I'd love to see you there—and talk about how happier teams can help build stronger breweries.

---

Here's what I read this week that you should read, too.

A dollar saved, a tip credit destroyed

Sometimes a case turns on complex legal questions or convoluted fact patterns. Other times it turns on something far simpler—like a single dollar.

 
In Dugan v. Reservoir Restaurant Inc., a $1 deduction just cost a restaurant its entire tip credit. A federal court handed the plaintiffs (a class of servers) a summary judgment win because their employer deducted $1 per shift from their tips to cover items like silverware, pens, and similar supplies.

Here's the setup. The restaurant paid its servers the tipped minimum wage of $2.13 per hour, relying on the FLSA's tip credit to bridge the gap to the $7.25 federal minimum wage. But every shift, the restaurant also took $1 directly from the servers' tips to reimburse the business for operating supplies.

That's where things went sideways.

There are no “quick favors” in wage-and-hour law

"Can you just help with this for a minute?"

That's how off-the-clock cases start.

Not with an intent to steal wages, but with an innocent call for help.

In Arnold v. Marriott, a hotel employee alleges that during busy holiday seasons he and others were directed to help with conference and event setups while not clocked in — including during lunch. Supervisors allegedly observed pre-shift work and didn't ensure it was recorded. On one occasion, when he asked whether he'd be paid for responding to work texts during lunch, he was told yes — but claims he wasn't. He also alleges he raised concerns with management and nothing changed.

Litigation is a strategy, not a reflex

When an employee walks out the door holding your company's stuff hostage, you have two problems: (1) your property, and (2) the story you're creating for the inevitable lawsuit.

Rezene v. Haribo is a case study in how fast this can go sideways. The employee allegedly kept a company Mercedes, phone, laptop, and other items while severance talks dragged on. The employer's lawyers got involved to retrieve the property. After multiple written demands, they contacted police. Officers showed up at the employee's home. Cue the next act: claims for defamation, emotional distress, discrimination, and retalation.

Years of federal litigation followed. Haribo ultimately won. Some claims died on summary judgment. The rest died at trial. But that's not the point.

The EEOC can't repeal Bostock, but it's sure trying

The EEOC just voted 2–1 to hold that federal agencies may restrict bathrooms and other "intimate spaces" based on biological sex — and may exclude transgender employees from facilities consistent with their gender identity.

"Biology is not bigotry," says EEOC Chair Andrea Lucas.

Except according to the Supreme Court, it very much is.

WIRTW #791: the 'awkward' edition

Have you ever seen a celebrity—someone whose work you genuinely love—and completely blown your shot at being normal?

Yeah. Same. It just happened to me.

My daughter and I were on our way to the House of Blues to see Descendents, Frank Turner & The Sleeping Souls, and Nobro. Here's a little secret: Frank Turner is low-key in my top three musicians at this moment in my life.

We parked the car and walked across East Fourth Street toward the venue for a pre-show dinner.

Then I glanced left.

And there he was. Frank Turner himself. Walking down the other side of the street like a regular human being, probably thinking about dinner. Maybe Valentine's Day. Maybe his performance in a few hours. Definitely not thinking about me.

My brain had about half a second to process all of this before my mouth took over.

"WOOO, FRANK TURNER!!!"

Not conversational. Not cool. Not subtle.

Full-volume sidewalk scream.

People stopped. Heads turned. I'm fairly certain a nearby couple thought I was alerting them to an emergency.

Frank's response? Barely a quarter nod. Not a smile. Not a wave. A fractional acknowledgment suggesting, "Yes, I hear you, loud fan," before continuing on his way.

Undeterred—because apparently I hadn't embarrassed myself and my daughter enough—I yelled after him, "We'll see you inside, Frank!"

Friends, he did not turn around.

In my head, this moment was supposed to unfold differently. He laughs. We chat. We discover mutual interests. We exchange numbers. We become besties. I casually mention him in conversation. "Oh yeah, Frank and I were texting…"

Instead, I yelled a man's name across a downtown street while he was out on a Valentine's Day pre-show stroll with his girlfriend.

Jon, not cool. But a story to tell, nonetheless.

To hear the rest of the story about our entire concert experience, check out this week's episode of The Norah and Dad Show, available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, YouTube, Overcast, Amazon Music, in your browser, and everywhere else you get your podcasts.

---

Here's what I read this week that you should read, too.

A lesson on retaliation from the State of the Union

A lawmaker sits silently during a high-profile speech. He holds up a simple sign protesting a racially offensive depiction of a former president by the current president. No shouting. No profanity. Just a message: this is wrong.

Within minutes, he's escorted out.

Now take off the Capitol dome and put that scene in your workplace.

Culture is what you tolerate

We tell ourselves a comforting lie about bad behavior around sports.

It's just passion.
Just rivalry.
Just trash talk.

Until it's racism.
Until it's misogyny.
Until it's culture.

Two recent soccer incidents make this point.

A wiener of a lawsuit

A bun propped itself atop the deli counter and declared itself lunch. It was golden. Perfectly split. Structurally sound. "Look at my form," it said. "I'm ready to be served." But there was no hot dog inside. All bun, no meat.

That's Mendoza v. Dietz & Watson.

Adela Mendoza, a production employee, sued after her termination, alleging sexual-orientation discrimination, retaliation, and hostile work environment. Dietz fired her for insubordination after she failed to follow a directive to move to a different production line when hers went down. She admitted she knew the rule: insubordination could mean discharge.

The employer's legitimate, nondiscriminatory reason doesn't have to be fancy. It just has to exist and be supported by the record. Here, it had weight. It had snap.

WIRTW #790: the 'protest' edition

Rock 'n' roll has a long history of protest music.

From Woody Guthrie's Tear the Fascists Down to Rage Against the Machine's Killing in the Name, musicians have been poking power in the eye for decades. It's loud. It's uncomfortable. That's the point.

Right now, the amps are pointed squarely at ICE.

Springsteen has drawn headlines. U2 just added its voice. When global superstars wade into immigration enforcement, reaction is guaranteed.

But if you want to understand the emotional core of this moment, don't start with the arena tours.

Start with Billy Bragg's City of Heroes.

This isn't subtle. It's not abstract.

It's a song about complicity.

Bragg opens with the ghost of Martin Niemöller—the pastor whose post-WWII confession about silence in the face of Nazi persecution still echoes.

"When they came for the communists..."
"When they came for the Democrats..."
"When they came for Jews..."

The point is familiar: silence feels safe—until it isn't.

Bragg brings that warning into the present tense, asking: What excuses would you tell yourself if this ever happened to you?

That's not policy debate. That's conscience.

Then it turns personal.

The refrain isn't passive. It's not "I posted." It's not "I tweeted."

It's: "I got in their face."

When they came for immigrants…
For refugees…
For five-year-olds…
To my neighborhood…
When they dragged people from their cars…
Took families from their homes…
Murdered our sister…
Murdered our brother…

…I got in their face.

Bragg ends with a vow: to bear witness to terror, to tyranny, to murder, to fascism.

This isn't about policy. It's about refusing to look away.

I created a playlist of protest songs. Some were written in the shadow of fascism in Europe. Some were born in the civil rights era. Some were recorded in the last news cycle.

Different decades. Different villains. Same instinct.

When artists believe government has crossed a line, they write. They record. They dare you to listen. And to do something.

You don't have to agree with every lyric. You don't have to like the politics. You may think some of it is overwrought.

That's fine.

But protest music tells you something about the cultural moment—what people fear, what they value, what they think is at stake.

What’s missing from my protest pantheon? Drop me an email and tell me what else belongs on the playlist.

---

Here's what I read this week that you should read, too.

If you’re going to buy the hype, at least read the fine print

For years, BrewDog invited fans to become "Equity Punks." Not just customers. Owners. Across seven crowdfunding rounds, roughly 220,000 investors poured in about £75 million (that's more than $100 million).

Now, as BrewDog explores a sale or break-up, many Punks may be staring at a zero return, and they are not happy about it.

"Well at least I got £2.34 off an order once. Not a bad return for £500," wrote one online. Another told the BBC, "I invested £12,000 in BrewDog - I think I've lost it all."

Not because the rules changed. But because the rules were always there.

Your ChatGPT history as a hiring test? That's a hard no.

"Take out your phone and open your ChatGPT app. Type this prompt: 'Based on my past conversations, analyze my behavioral tendencies.'"

In a Reddit post that has gone viral, that's what someone claims just happened to them during a job interview.

If that interview scenario is real, the issues aren't just ethical. They're also potentially legal.

The 2nd nominee for The Worst Employer of 2026 is … The (Not) Joking CEO

At a company keynote in Las Vegas, Salesforce CEO Marc Benioff invited the international employees to stand. He then joked that ICE agents were in the back of the room, ready to deport them. He doubled down with more immigration-enforcement punchlines. The crowd responded with faint boos. Slack lit up with employees calling the comments "deeply horrifying" and "not funny." 

Here's the part that makes this more than just a bad attempt at humor: this comes on the heels of multiple fatal shootings involving federal immigration agents, increased enforcement that ignores people's civil rights, and other acts of violence. People are dead. Families are grieving. And a billionaire CEO thought it was a good idea to riff on deportation for laughs.

Read the room.

Pro tip from pop culture: Don't fire your employees while they are in the ER

"If you fire her, she will sue you and I will testify."

That's not a plaintiff's lawyer talking. That's Dr. Robby, the chief of emergency medicine on The Pitt, grabbing a patient's phone and putting her boss on notice while she's being treated for what looks like SIRS—a systemic inflammatory response that's threatening her leg and possibly her life.

Debbie Cohen is in the ER. Her rash is spreading. Three senior physicians are at her bedside. And her biggest fear is missing work.

Her boss keeps calling, accusing her of exaggerating, dangling termination if she doesn't show up. At one point she pleads, "Please! Please don't fire me!"

WIRTW #789: the 'while my guitar gently weeps' edition

Fifty-three today.

That's either mid-50s or early-50s depending on how generous you're feeling. I'm choosing the latter.

Staying young has less to do with age and more to do with intention. You don't stumble into it. You choose it. It's a mindset, not a calendar.

For me, that means leaning hard into the stuff that makes life feel big.

Family first. Always. My family and I are soon heading to London soon to tour universities with my son as he chases a future studying sports and football management. My wife and I keep stacking travel plans instead of excuses. There is never not a good reason to travel, and this happens to be a really good one.

It also means restarting the daily exercise habit. Again. Because nothing says "53" like making noises when you stand up. Movement is the antidote. So I'm trying to move more every day.

And concerts. Loud ones.

Next up: a Valentine’s Day date with my daughter. Descendents and Frank Turner & the Sleeping Souls at the House of Blues. We'll be in the pit. Look for us if you're there, too. As a concession to my age—and my hearing—I invested in a good set of ear plugs for the first time. Growth comes in many forms.

Staying young is saying yes to the pit. Ask me Sunday if it was a wise choice. I’m hoping for sore legs, ringing ears (muted responsibly), and zero regrets.

On this week's episode of the Norah and Dad Show, we talk through our expectations for this show, as well as the importance of wearing sensible shoes to a rock show. We also mourn the untimely passing of Norah's beloved Martin acoustic guitar, Eleanor. Listen to this week's episode of The Norah and Dad Show, available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, YouTube, Overcast, Amazon Music, in your browser, and everywhere else you get your podcasts.

---

Here's what I read this week that you should read, too.

Beware the legal risks of AI meeting agents

AI meeting agents are everywhere. They join Zoom calls, transcribe conversations, summarize action items, and promise to save employees hours of note-taking. From a business perspective, the upside is obvious: better documentation, fewer "I don't remember saying that" disputes, and cleaner follow-up.

But like most shiny tech, AI meeting agents come with real employment law and litigation risk—especially if you don't think through how (and when) you use them.

Workplace investigations are hard. Until they’re not.

Workplace investigations are hard.

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.

Federal court provides road map for lawful DEI programs

I keep getting asked how employers can legally maintain DEI programs in today's political climate. A federal judge just answered that question in a lawsuit the Missouri Attorney General brought against Starbucks—and in dismissing it, handed corporate America a roadmap.

The AG argued Starbucks' DEI policies were illegal because they "favored" BIPOC, women, and LGBTQ+ employees through mentorship, affinity groups, partnerships, and "quotas" tied to executive pay.

The court held that allegations without facts are just theories—and theories don't establish jurisdiction or liability.

WIRTW #788: the 'it's a beautiful day' edition

When I was a kid, Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood wasn't background noise. You sat on the floor. You watched. You waited for him to come through the door, change his shoes, and pull on that cardigan. Nothing flashy happened. No one was mocked. No one was humiliated. No one "won."

And yet, by the end, you felt steadier.

It took me years to understand why. Fred Rogers wasn't just entertaining children. He was teaching empathy—carefully, intentionally, and without irony. Which is why I keep coming back to this thought: we need a sociological study comparing the empathy of adults who grew up on Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood with those who didn't.

Because empathy feels like the missing muscle in American society right now.

Every episode opened with a simple, disarming truth:

"I like you just the way you are."

Not if you earn it.
Not if you agree.
Not if you fit in.

Just: you matter.

That idea once felt obvious. Today, it feels almost subversive. We sort people by usefulness, loyalty, productivity, and tribe. Empathy gets rationed. Compassion gets qualified. Caring about the “wrong” people is treated as a flaw.

Rogers never hedged.

"You are worth caring about."

That's where empathy begins. And when a society stops teaching that lesson, it doesn't become tougher or more realistic. It becomes colder—and easier to harden.

Rogers also understood that empathy requires emotional literacy. You can't recognize pain in others if you've been taught to deny it in yourself. On his show, he talked openly about fear, anger, sadness, and loss—not to inflame them, but to name them.

"When we're frightened, we tend to lash out at others."

That isn't politics. It's human behavior. When empathy erodes, fear rushes in. And fear doesn't make people wiser or stronger. It makes them reactive.

Rogers' answer wasn't suppression or denial. It was honesty.

"The thing that is mentionable becomes manageable."

That lesson applies to adults as much as children. Societies that can't talk honestly about discomfort don't become resilient. They become brittle.

Empathy also shapes how we see one another.

"The neighbors you find are the neighbors you look for."

If you go looking for threats, you'll find them. If you go looking for people, you'll find those too. One path leads to suspicion and withdrawal. The other leads to restraint and connection.

And empathy doesn't require unanimity.

"We don't have to think alike to love alike."

That sentence feels almost antique now, which should worry us. We increasingly treat disagreement as disqualification and difference as danger. Rogers offered a quieter alternative: coexistence without dehumanization.

He never framed empathy as weakness. He treated it as a civic skill—something to be taught, practiced, and protected. A society held together by empathy doesn't need as much fear or force to function.

Which brings us to where we are.

The erosion of empathy doesn't just harden people; it makes them easier to lead by fear. When compassion is framed as weakness, it leaves a vacuum. And something always rushes in to fill it.

So yes, fear still matters. But it's a consequence, not a cause. Fear is downstream of the deliberate erosion of empathy. When people are taught not to care, cruelty becomes easy. And when empathy disappears, bad ideas don't have to work very hard.

Fred Rogers never talked about politics. He didn't need to. He was doing something more basic: teaching children how to live with other people without losing their humanity.

America didn't lose its way because we cared too much.

We lost it because we stopped treating empathy as a strength.

Empathy isn't softness. It's social infrastructure. It's our superpower. And any culture that mocks it shouldn't be surprised when things start coming apart.

---

Here's what I read this week that you should read, too.

Just Subpoena It.

This week, the EEOC sent a strong message to corporate America when it went to federal court to force Nike to turn over years of documents tied to allegations that its DEI programs discriminated against White employees.

The EEOC isn't suing Nike for discrimination—at least not yet. Instead, it has filed a subpoena enforcement action after Nike allegedly refused to fully comply with an investigation that reaches back to 2018. According to the agency, Nike's "DEI-related 2025 Targets" and other initiatives may have resulted in race-based decision-making in hiring, promotions, layoffs, internships, and mentoring and leadership-development programs.

Union activity Is not a license to be abusive at work

Let's get something straight right out of the gate: employees have the right to organize. They also have the right to complain about work, staffing, and management decisions. What they do not have is a free pass to be abusive, vulgar, and demeaning toward coworkers and supervisors—union campaign or not.

That's what makes the Starbucks case now pending before the Fifth Circuit so frustrating.

When does $5,000,000 not equal $5,000,000?

Elizabeth Graham worked as a benefits generalist in the human resources department of Bristol Hospice Holdings. She filed (and later withdrew) an EEOC charge alleging age and sex harassment. A couple of months later, during an acquisition integration, the company accused her of blowing off a training assignment (and then lying about it). The VP of HR terminated her — allegedly for insubordination and falsifying what happened.

A federal court jury just awarded her $5,000,000 in punitive damages, on top of $75,000 in non-economic compensatory damages. That punitive award will never last.

WIRTW #787: the 'accidents will happen' edition

"I think you just hit somebody."

That's what Mitch Goldstein said to me one cold morning in the winter of 1990. It was our senior year of high school, and I was driving us to school.

I had felt the bump.
"A car?" I asked.
"No," he said. "Some body."

He was right. My car had clipped a person—Delores Ritchie.

I was turning left from Audubon Ave. onto Tomlinson Rd. It was cold, and the windshield of my parents' powder-blue Subaru wagon was still partly iced over. Tomlinson runs east–west, and as I turned into the eastbound lane, the rising sun's glare blinded me just long enough.

Ms. Ritchie had the same problem. She had pulled over about a hundred feet past the intersection to scrape ice off her windshield. She was standing in the lane of traffic, on the driver's side of her car, when my passenger-side mirror clipped her.

I never saw her.

The police came. She left in an ambulance. Mitch and I went to school.

A few months later, as I left the public library next to George Washington High School, there she was—Delores Ritchie—standing at the circulation desk, chatting with the librarian.

I walked toward her to ask how she was doing, and then I heard this: "I was in an accident. A car clipped me and knocked me to the ground. I'm OK, but my lawyer wants me to keep going to doctors to run up my damages."

True story.

I slipped past her without being seen. I went home and told my dad what I'd heard. He told our lawyer.

The lawsuit disappeared.

Here's the lesson: if you're involved in litigation, watch your mouth. You never know who's listening—or when it will matter. Every offhand remark is potential evidence. Today's small talk can end your case tomorrow.

As for car accidents, that one was my first, but not my last. My daughter, Norah, away at college, was just in her first. To hear that story (and I promise it's just as good), listen to this week's episode of The Norah and Dad Show, available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, YouTube, Overcast, Amazon Music, in your browser, and everywhere else you get your podcasts.

---

Here's what I read this week that you should read, too.

If you can't force older employees to retire, how do you succession plan?

Employers face a legitimate—and growing—problem: if older employees aren't retiring on schedule (or at all), how do you plan for leadership transitions and future staffing needs without committing age discrimination?

The answer starts with recognizing that today's workforce doesn't retire the way it used to. Many employees expect to work past 65, often for financial reasons or because they want to stay active and engaged. Employers who build succession plans around outdated retirement assumptions are setting themselves up to fail.

What doesn't work (and is illegal) is pressure. You can't demote older employees, cut their pay, strip responsibilities, or make their jobs unpleasant in hopes they'll "choose" to retire. That’s not workforce planning—it's an age discrimination constructive discharge claim waiting to happen.

So, what does work?

Mangement discussion of an older worker's "retirement" as age discrimination

"When are you retiring?" That's not an employer's call to make.

Here's a rule that employers still manage to forget or ignore: the decision about when to retire belongs to the employee. Start nudging. Start hinting. Start asking. Start factoring it into employment decisions. And you're flirting with, if not outright committing, age discrimination.

An Ohio appellate court recently reinforced that lesson in Selzer v. Union Home Mortgage, reversing summary judgment for the employer and sending an age discrimination case back for trial.

Greg Selzer was a 64-year-old loan officer assistant. According to the record, his supervisors repeatedly pressed him about his retirement plans. Then came the email that mattered most: a vice president involved in the termination decision wrote that Selzer "keeps saying he will retire but hasn't." Another executive admitted that the purpose of that email was to justify why Selzer landed on the reduction-in-force list. And another employee confirmed that Selzer's proximity to retirement factored into the decision to terminate him.

The trial court bought the RIF explanation and dismissed the case. The court of appeals did not.

A plaintiff can prove age discrimination claims by direct or indirect evidence of discriminatory intent. In this case, the appellate court made clear that repeated inquiries about retirement when made by decision makers and tied to a termination decision qualify as direct evidence.

Yes, courts have said that merely using the word "retire" isn’t automatically discriminatory. But context matters. Here, the comments were frequent, made by supervisors, closely tied to the discharge, and—most damning—used as a justification for termination.

The employer argued it was just planning ahead. And believe me, I get it. When an employee eventually does retire, without proper succession planning, you could be caught off guard, scrambling to replace institutional knowledge and forced into a rushed and risky replacement decision. Courts, however, remain skeptical, and often recognize that "longevity" is just a proxy for age. Changing the label doesn't change the motive.

The takeaway for employers is simple:

Don't ask when employees plan to retire.
Don't speculate internally about retirement timelines.
And don't document retirement assumptions in RIF decisions.

Let employees retire when they choose. Support them in that decision. (I offer some tips on how to do that here.) Employees decide their retirement date. Employers don't get to decide for them—and those that try may find themselves staring down the barrel of an age discrimination lawsuit.

Can you spot the difference between coincidence and retaliation?

Have you heard about the small toy store owners in St. Paul, MN, who complained about ICE on their local news. They went on camera. They criticized ICE. Loudly. Publicly. Three hours later, two plainclothes ICE agents reportedly walked into the store and served a Notice of Inspection—an I-9 audit request.

And we're supposed to believe that timing is just… coincidence?

This is what retaliation looks like.

Clarity beats chaos: Why rescinding the EEOC’s harassment guidance is a mistake

Today at 10 a.m., the EEOC is scheduled to vote on whether to rescind its 2024 Enforcement Guidance on Harassment in the Workplace. 

If the Commission votes "yes," it will be a terrible result for employers — not because the Guidance was perfect, but because clarity beats chaos every time.

Dry January isn't a moral virtue or wellness trend. It's an economic gut punch.

Every January, like clockwork, Dry January comes roaring back.

If you want to take a month off drinking, good for you. Truly. Your body, your goals, your choice. No judgment, and it shouldn't be anyone else's business either.

But we also need to stop pretending Dry January is harmless.

For a whole lot of craft breweries, Dry January isn't a "challenge." It's a revenue problem. A jobs problem. A "can we make payroll in February" problem.

The 1st nominee for The Worst Employer of 2026 is … The Harassing, Retaliating, Evidence-Erasing Employer.

If you're looking for the blueprint for how to turn a workplace into a legal catastrophe and land on my Worst Employer list, look no further than Bryant v. C&M Defense Group. A jury just awarded Makita Bryant $5.5 million after what reads less like an HR failure and more like a master class in how to do everything wrong.

WIRTW #786: the 'propaganda' edition

What the hell is going on at the Department of Labor?

On January 10, the DOL posted this on X: "One Homeland. One People. One Heritage. Remember who you are, American."

Read that again. Slowly. If that doesn't make the hair on the back of your neck stand up, it should.

Myriad people immediately flagged the post as sounding eerily similar to one of the Nazi Party's central slogans — "Ein Volk, ein Reich, ein Führer" (one people, one realm, one leader). And they're not wrong to hear the echo. Even if you want to give the DOL every possible benefit of the doubt (you shouldn't), the vibe is unmistakable: nationalist propaganda, identity worship, and "blood and soil" messaging dressed up as patriotism.

And it wasn't even that subtle. The post was paired with a black-and-white montage of Revolutionary-era imagery and propaganda-style art — the kind of aesthetic authoritarian movements love because it sells nostalgia, certainty, obedience, and "purity" in one neat package.

Keep in mind, this is the Department of Labor. Its job is supposed to be enforcing wage-and-hour laws, protecting workplace safety, ensuring fair labor standards, and helping people get employed and trained. Not cranking out memes that wink at fascist tropes and flirt with Nazi-era rhetoric, slogans, and iconography.

This isn't happening in a vacuum. Union leaders and historians are sounding alarms about a "rhetorical shift towards white supremacy" within the federal government, with campaigns featuring idealized, mostly White male workers, "Americanism" over "globalism," and messaging designed to convince the "real Americans" that only people like them belong. Indeed, ICE is recruiting potential agents with the tagline, "We'll have our home again," a lyric tied to white nationalist groups.

When federal agencies start talking like this, it's not "patriotism." It's not an accident. It's propaganda — and it's the point.

---

Here's what I read this week that you should read, too.

When “irreparable harm” isn’t: 8th Circuit slams brakes on a noncompete injunction

Employers love preliminary injunctions in restrictive covenant cases. And courts are supposed to grant them only in extraordinary circumstances.

The 8th Circuit just reminded everyone what "extraordinary" actually means.

Filing an EEOC charge doesn’t automatically buy an employee job immunity

Some believe that once an employee complains to the EEOC, discipline must stop. Supervisors must tread lightly. Performance problems must be ignored.

The 4th Circuit just reminded everyone that's not how Title VII works.

In Andrews v. DeJoy, the court affirmed summary judgment for the Postal Service on a retaliation claim brought by a clerk who had a long history of documented performance problems — both before and after she filed an EEOC complaint.

After loudly clashing with her supervisor and being escorted from the building by police, the employee, a clerk, filed an EEOC charge. After her post-suspension return to work, management continued documenting attendance issues, insubordination, and performance deficiencies, eventually issuing a notice of removal (later reduced to a suspension through arbitration).

She sued, claiming retaliation. She lost.

WIRTW #785: the 'sometimes a coffee cup is just a coffee cup' edition

Arsenal–Tottenham is one of the nastiest rivalries in sports. If you don't follow English football, think Eagles–Cowboys, Yankees–Red Sox, or Ohio State–Michigan, and then crank it up a notch or ten. London neighbors. More than a century of history and hatred.

Which is why it was a really, really big deal earlier this week when Thomas Frank, Tottenham's manager, was photographed holding a coffee cup with an Arsenal logo on it.

Social media lost its mind.

By all accounts, it was an accident. Spurs were away at Bournemouth. Arsenal had just played there over the weekend. Frank grabbed a cup from the away dressing room without noticing it belonged to his club's biggest rival. Asked about it, he responded the only way he could: "Of course I wouldn't do that. That would be really stupid." He added that with Spurs not playing well, it would be "absolutely stupid" for him to focus on something so trivial instead of the football.

Fair enough. Especially when the Arsenal sit 22 points clear at the top of the table and Spurs are mired in 14th.

Your workplace could have its own version of this moment. The trade show photo. The LinkedIn post. The Instagram story that lives forever in screenshots. There's your employee—company badge on—wearing the wrong quarter-zip. Holding a competitor's tote bag. Standing a little too close to a rival's booth. Marketing panics. Leadership fumes. Someone asks whether "this is a problem."

Start with the obvious question: Was it intentional? Most of the time, no. Swag is everywhere. People grab what's clean, warm, or nearby. That's not disloyalty. It's human.

Next question: Was there any real harm? Did a customer complain? Did a deal fall apart? Or did only internal pride take a hit? If the damage is theoretical or ego-based, you're already flirting with overreaction.

Then ask the most important question: What culture are you reinforcing? If you treat honest mistakes like acts of betrayal, employees learn to hide things—or to stop using judgment altogether. A quiet reminder about branding expectations is reasonable. Discipline usually isn't. Sure, if an employee is deliberately promoting a competitor or repeatedly ignoring guidance, that’s a different conversation. But earn that conclusion with facts, not outrage.

Not every rival logo is treason. Sometimes it's just the wrong cup in the wrong locker room. Sometimes a coffee cup is just a coffee cup.

And for the record…

Up the Arsenal! Come on you Gunners!

---

Here's what I read this week that you should read, too.

4 solid steps to win your disability discrimination/reasonable accommodation case

The 6th Circuit just delivered an opinion that reinforces two lessons employers should already know: accommodations require clarity and documentation, and timecard falsification is a litigation killer.

Energy Harbor Nuclear Corp. reassigned a maintenance supervisor with nearly 30 years of service to 12-hour night shifts. He complained that the schedule was worsening his Type 2 diabetes, specifically that the night shift was "killing" him. Management told him to provide medical documentation if he needed an accommodation. Upon his presentation of a doctor's note, the company moved him to day shift as requested.

Then came the problem. The company audited his outage time entries against objective badge-swipe data from the plant's protected area. The audit revealed discrepancies in 21 of 26 entries, including 10 overstated by more than 30 minutes. Management interviewed him (with a witness present), reviewed security data, escalated the issue to HR, and a separate internal review team conducted its own investigation. The company fired him for falsifying time records.

He sued for disability discrimination, failure to accommodate, and retaliation.

The law is clear: protect your employees, not a problem customer

He's a regular. Spends money. Knows the beer list. The kind of customer small breweries are told they can't afford to lose.

But the female staff would disagree.

Over time, they start to notice things. Lingering looks. Comments that don't quite cross the line — but get uncomfortably close. Walking employees to their cars when no one asked him to. Nothing overtly sexual. Nothing you can circle in red and say, that's the moment. Just a steady accumulation of unease.

Then management learns something else: the customer is a registered sex offender. His offense? Sexually propositioning a minor.

The question isn't whether your employees are using AI at work (they are), but whether you're prepared for it

Employees using AI at work will be the workplace issue of 2026.

Not remote work.
Not noncompetes.
Not DEI.

AI.

Because employees are already using it — to draft emails, summarize documents, create work product, prepare presentations, and even help with performance reviews — whether employers have approved it or not.

And most companies are completely unprepared.

A tale of two (alleged) sexual assaults

A popular Cleveland restaurant and a popular Charlotte brewery chose very different paths after their owners were accused of sex-based crimes.

After rape charges were filed against the owner of Cleveland's TownHall, the owner's response was to fight—attack the prosecution, question the process, threaten legal action, and keep operating as usual. The framing was unmistakable: this was a legal fight, not a business crisis.

In contrast, after the owner of Charlotte's Sycamore Brewing was charged with raping a 13-year-old child, the response went the other direction. Leadership changed. The owner was removed. Divestment was announced.

And this week, Sycamore went further. Its taproom will close beginning today—not because the business committed any wrongdoing, but to allow for community healing and reflection. The current owner publicly expressed concern for the alleged victim, confirmed the complete removal of her former partner from the business, and made clear that Sycamore's future must align with the values of the community it serves.

'Twas the Employment Law Night Before Christmas (2025 edition)

In what has become an annual tradition for my final post of the year, I present the holiday classic, 'Twas the Employment Law Night Before Christmas … tweaked and updated for 2025.

To all of my readers, connections, and followers, new and legacy, thank you all for reading, commenting, and sharing throughout the year. Please have a happy and, most importantly, healthy and safe holiday season.

I'll see everyone on January 5, 2026, with new content to kick off the new year, including a fresh batch of Worst Employer nominees.

*  *  *

WIRTW #784: the 'white male' edition

Something has gone sideways when the Chair of the EEOC is publicly urging white men to file discrimination charges.

Yes, I said it that bluntly, because sometimes clarity matters more than politeness.

Let's start with the part Andrea Lucas and her supporters rush to say first: Title VII protects all employees. Race is race. Sex is sex. Discrimination is discrimination. That has always been true.

But that's not the real question. And pretending it is avoids the harder, more important one.

The real question is why Congress passed Title VII in the first place. It wasn't because lawmakers worried white men might someday struggle for professional opportunity. It was passed because entire groups of people, especially Blacks and women, were systematically locked out of jobs, promotions, and whole industries. Not subtly. Not accidentally. By design.

Title VII was a civil rights law aimed at expanding opportunity for the historically marginalized and dismantling a labor market built on exclusion. That context matters. A lot.

So, when the head of the nation's civil rights enforcement agency makes public pleas for white men to file discrimination charges, she isn't just reciting a legal truism. She's making a strategic and moral choice about the purpose of civil-rights enforcement.

That choice is backwards.

This isn't about whether white men can be discriminated against. They can. The law already covers them. Courts already hear their cases. No special encouragement campaign is required.

What's troubling is the suggestion that "anti-white" or "anti-male" discrimination deserves priority attention, at a time when discrimination against marginalized groups is more subtle, more coded, and harder to prove than ever. Bias today rarely announces itself. It shows up as "not a fit," "not leadership material," "not polished," or "lacking presence." The people most insulated from those vague, subjective assessments remain the people most likely to be presumed competent and neutral on arrival.

The EEOC Chair's solicitation of white men isn't a message of neutrality. It's a reframing of civil rights enforcement.

Her shift has consequences. Employers don't become fairer in response to this rhetoric; they become more cautious and more defensive. As a result, they make "safe" hiring choices. Historically, those choices are familiar ones, which is how old inequities quietly reassert themselves.

If an employer excludes someone because they're white or male, enforce the law. Period. But publicly encouraging white men to file charges misreads purpose, history, and present reality.

The EEOC was created to open doors that had been nailed shut for generations. It was not created to reassure the historically powerful that losing exclusive access feels unfair.

Civil rights enforcement should be about expanding opportunity—not manufacturing grievance.

And the moment we forget that is the moment we stop protecting civil rights at all.

---

Here's what I read this week that you should read, too.

---

Test

"We can't do that" is not an ADA interactive process. Or is it?

The 6th Circuit just handed employers a clear win in Bowles v. Chicken Salad Chick. The court held that a fast-casual restaurant did not have to accommodate a cashier/service employee who requested to sit for five minutes after every ten minutes of standing. That request would have eliminated essential job functions and fundamentally changed the job.

The Sixth Circuit held that an employer cannot be liable for failing to engage in the ADA interactive process where the employee's requested accommodation is unreasonable as a matter of law, because an interactive-process claim presupposes the existence of a viable reasonable accommodation.

The Worst Employer of 2025 is… 🥁

After a year of collecting 12 nominees and then letting you all decide from the final seven via ranked-choice voting, we didn't even need a second round. The votes were that decisive and the result was never in doubt.

🏆 Worst Employer of 2025: 

The New Jersey Organ and Tissue Sharing Network 

Five things to consider in a difficult termination

Today is your final day to VOTE for the Worst Employer of 2025

---

One of my recurring professional nightmares is advising a client on a termination that goes badly.

Not "this ends in a lawsuit" badly—but catastrophically badly. The kind that devolves into workplace violence, an active shooter situation, or some other despicable act that no one saw coming but everyone later says should have been anticipated.

That fear drives my mantra with clients: you can never be too careful. If there's even a whiff that something could go sideways—emotional volatility, erratic behavior, mental health concerns, escalating conduct—you take reasonable steps to make sure it doesn't. You plan. You slow down. You involve the right people. You treat the termination not as an HR task, but as a safety event.

Which brings me to former Michigan head football coach Sherrone Moore.

WIRTW #783: the 'Christmas movies' edition

What are the best Christmas movies of all time?

It's a debate as old as Christmas movies themselves. (And yes, this is absolutely the kind of important question a legal blog should tackle.)

Before we can answer this vital question, we first must examine what makes a Christmas movie "great." For the best Christmas movies aren't just holiday wallpaper, they must also check a few key boxes:

✨ They have heart. A good Christmas movie leaves you warmer than it found you.

🎄 They feel like the season. Lights, snow, music, awkward gatherings (families and otherwise). They indulge the full sensory experience.

😂 They make you laugh. Not mean-spirited humor, but that familiar, "yep, that's my family, too" kind of laughter.

❤️ They hit an emotional note. Reconciliation. Joy. Second chances. Belief.

🗣️ They are quotable. "You sit on a throne of lies." "I triple dog dare you!" (Fun fact: I went to Hebrew School with the actor who played Schwartz.) "Yippee-Ki-Yay, Mother…"

♻️ And most importantly: they're rewatchable. A great Christmas movie becomes part of your yearly ritual, and you never tire of the annual viewings.

With these criteria in mind, here's my list of the 5 best Christmas movies of all time, the ones I come back to year after year:

Elf — Pure joy. Will Ferrell at peak earnestness and silliness. A modern classic that earned its place fast.

National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation — The definitive portrait of holiday chaos. We've all lived some version of this movie.

A Christmas Story — Childhood nostalgia in cinematic form. It's impossible not to see a little of yourself in it.

Die Hard — Yes, it's a Christmas movie. No, I will not be taking questions at this time.

The Muppet Christmas Carol — The best Dickens adaptation ever made, and I'm prepared to die on this hill.

That's my list. Feel free to tell me why I'm wrong, and share your own. 'Tis the season for strong (and good-natured) opinions.

---

Have you voted yet for the Worst Employer of 2025? 

Cast your vote here.

---

Here's what I read and listened to this week that you should, too.

What does a font have to do with an employer's values? Apparently, a lot.

The State Department just ordered diplomats to ditch Calibri and return to Times New Roman as the required typeface in all official communications. Secretary Marco Rubio framed this change not as a typography choice, but as a way to "abolish yet another wasteful DEIA program."

Calibri, however, didn't become the State Department's font because someone wanted to score diversity points. It was chosen because disability and accessibility groups recommended it. Plenty of research shows that sans-serif fonts can be easier to read for people with certain visual impairments. That's not ideology. It's science + usability.

Imagine being so committed to rolling back inclusion that you turn fonts into a culture-war battlefield.

🚨 Vote for the Worst Employer of 2025 🚨

It's the most wonderful time of the year! I've made my list, checked it twice, and now it's time to determine who's been the naughtiest and not very nice. That's right—it's time to vote for The Worst Employer of 2025.

I've narrowed down my list of 12 nominees to the worst seven finalists.