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, ...
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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.

Punitive damages are not whatever number a jury thinks will send a message. They are constrained by constitutional due-process limits, and the Supreme Court has repeatedly emphasized that punitive damages must bear a reasonable relationship to compensatory damages. While there's no bright-line rule, single-digit ratios are generally considered acceptable. As the ratio grows, judicial tolerance drops fast.

Here, the ratio is roughly 67 to 1.
That alone puts the verdict in serious jeopardy.

Courts reviewing punitive awards look to three guideposts: (1) how reprehensible the defendant's conduct was, (2) the ratio between punitive and compensatory damages, and (3) how the award compares to civil penalties in similar cases.

Even accepting the jury's view of the facts, this is a single-plaintiff retaliation case involving economic and emotional harm — not physical injury, not widespread misconduct, and not conduct at the extreme end of the employer-misbehavior spectrum.

That matters. A lot.

When compensatory damages are relatively low, courts are especially skeptical of massive punitive awards untethered from actual harm. Punitive damages are meant to punish and deter, not to create an arbitrary windfall. At some point, punishment becomes constitutionally excessive.

This verdict crossed that line.

Expect post-trial motions. Expect remittitur. And if necessary, expect appellate intervention. The liability finding may stand. The $5 million number almost certainly will not.

$5,000,000 may grab headlines today. But in the end, it almost certainly won't equal $5,000,000.

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.



The End of the Snow Day? Updating Your Workplace Weather Policy — via Dan Schwart Connecticut Employment Law Blog




Has Beer Become Secondary? — via Secret Hopper



Billy Bragg Releases New Song "City of Heroes" Supporting Minneapolis Protesters: Stream — via Consequence

Listen to Bruce Springsteen's powerful new protest song, "Streets Of Minneapolis" — via UNCUT

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?

First, make retirement financially possible. Employees retire when they can afford to. Offer a strong retirement plan, encourage participation, and structure employer matches to promote meaningful savings. The easier you make it to save, the more likely employees can eventually step away.

Second, educate employees early. Many workers underestimate what retirement actually costs. Work with plan providers to offer guidance on saving and investing, and make clear that loans and early withdrawals undermine long-term security.

Third, eliminate the all-or-nothing choice. Retirement doesn't have to mean walking out the door for good. Offer voluntary phased-retirement options—reduced schedules, part-time roles, job sharing, or transitions into mentoring and training positions.

Fourth, standardize succession planning around roles, not people. Succession plans should attach to positions and critical functions, not to specific employees. When planning is role-based and applied consistently across the organization, it looks like legitimate business planning—not an effort to target older workers.

Finally, gather workforce insight the right way. Instead of asking older employees when they plan to retire (don't), use stay interviews to understand what keeps employees engaged and what might cause them to leave. Just as important, do this for everyone, not just older workers. When stay interviews are a uniform practice across age groups, they provide valuable planning insight without creating age-discrimination risk.

The bottom line: You can't force older employees to retire. But you can create conditions that make retirement a realistic, voluntary option—while giving your business the time and structure it needs to plan for what comes next.

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.

Retaliation cases rarely come with a smoking-gun email that says, "Punish her for speaking up."

Instead, they often look like this:

🎯 Someone engages in protected activity (complains about discrimination, harassment, safety, wages, leave, etc.).
🎯 The employer says, "We take this seriously."
🎯 And then… suddenly… something bad happens. A write-up. A demotion. A schedule change. A PIP. A termination. And management insists, with a straight face: Unrelated.

Timing matters. 

If an employee has a spotless record for years—no discipline, no performance issues, no attendance problems—and then the first adverse action hits right after protected activity, it screams retaliation. Maybe it isn't. But it sure looks like it. And that's what fuels lawsuits: not just what happened, but what it appears happened.

Retaliation doesn't require termination. 

The adverse action standard is a low bar. It's anything that will reasonably deter employees from speaking out in the future.

Termination is the cleanest version. But retaliation often shows up as death by a thousand cuts: sudden scrutiny, nitpicking, selective enforcement, and "we're just holding everyone accountable" that somehow only applies to the complainer.

This toy store story is the same pattern in a different setting: outspoken criticism… then hours later an enforcement action lands at the door of a company that never had any prior issues.

Employers, if you want to avoid retaliation claims, follow this rule: If you wouldn't have done it before the complaint, don't do it right after the complaint.

And if you truly must act, slow down and do it right:
Document the legitimate reason
Apply the rule consistently
Involve HR and legal early

Retaliation cases aren't usually won or lost on intent. Instead, it's time and perception—and bad timing makes even "legitimate" decisions look punitive.

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