Table of Contents >> Show >> Hide
- What the Sixth Circuit Actually Did
- A Quick Refresher: What Thryv Changed
- Why the Sixth Circuit Said No
- The Bigger Picture: A Real Circuit Split
- Why This Decision Matters to Employers
- Why This Decision Matters to Unions and Workers
- What Comes Next?
- Real-World Experiences and Practical Lessons From the Thryv Fight
- Conclusion
- SEO Tags
Labor law has a way of taking one dry phrase from a statute and turning it into a full-contact sport. In this case, that phrase is “affirmative action” in Section 10(c) of the National Labor Relations Act. The National Labor Relations Board said that phrase gave it room to award workers compensation for a wide range of financial harms tied to an unfair labor practice. The Sixth Circuit, in a closely watched Starbucks case, basically replied: nice try, but no.
The ruling matters because it is not just another procedural squabble for lawyers to lovingly over-footnote. It goes to the heart of how far the NLRB can go when it punishes unlawful employer conduct. Can the Board stick to classic remedies like reinstatement and back pay? Or can it order broader payments for things like credit card fees, childcare costs, moving expenses, and other downstream losses when those harms are tied to an unlawful firing or other labor violation?
In NLRB v. Starbucks Corp., the Sixth Circuit enforced the Board’s factual findings that Starbucks violated federal labor law, but it rejected the Board’s attempt to impose the broader Thryv-style remedy. That split-the-baby approach is a big deal. The court did not say the NLRB got everything wrong. It said the agency went too far on remedies. And in modern labor law, remedies are where the money, leverage, and settlement pressure live. That is why this case has become one of the most important labor-law decisions for employers, unions, and workers watching the post-Thryv battlefield.
What the Sixth Circuit Actually Did
The Sixth Circuit’s decision arose from a Starbucks dispute involving the termination of an employee tied to organizing activity. The court agreed there was substantial evidence supporting the Board’s unfair-labor-practice findings. So Starbucks did not get a clean sweep. The company lost on the facts.
But the court broke sharply from the Board on the remedy. The NLRB had ordered Starbucks to make the employee whole not only for lost earnings and benefits, but also for any other direct or foreseeable pecuniary harms tied to the discrimination. That language came straight out of the Board’s 2022 decision in Thryv, where the agency announced a broad “make-whole” approach in labor cases.
The Sixth Circuit vacated that part of the order and sent the matter back. In plain English, the court said: the Board can still order traditional remedies, but it cannot use Thryv as a blank check for a much wider damages package. That distinction is the whole story.
A Quick Refresher: What Thryv Changed
Back in late 2022, the NLRB announced in Thryv, Inc. that standard make-whole relief should include compensation for all direct or foreseeable pecuniary harms caused by an unfair labor practice. The Board described that as a natural extension of its mission to restore employees to the position they would have occupied absent the violation.
That sounded modest at first. “Make whole” has a comforting, soup-and-blanket quality. But the practical scope was much larger. The Board and later guidance materials pointed to possible harms such as credit card interest, late fees, penalties for early retirement withdrawals, transportation costs, childcare expenses, moving costs, utility reconnection fees, and similar out-of-pocket losses.
To supporters, this was simple fairness. If an unlawful firing triggers a financial avalanche, why should the worker eat those losses? To critics, however, Thryv looked like the Board had taken a back-pay remedy and quietly upgraded it into a damages buffet. One plate for wages, another for benefits, and while you are here, please grab some consequential losses on your way out.
Why the Sixth Circuit Said No
1. Section 10(c) is broad, but not infinitely broad
The central fight turned on Section 10(c) of the NLRA, which lets the Board order a violator to cease and desist and to take “affirmative action,” including reinstatement with or without back pay, to effectuate the policies of the Act.
The Board argued that this language is flexible enough to support broader monetary relief. The Sixth Circuit disagreed. Looking to the historical meaning of “affirmative action,” the court concluded that Congress was speaking in the language of equitable remedies, not open-ended legal damages. That means injunction-like relief, reinstatement, and back pay fit comfortably within the statute. Tort-style compensation for a chain of later financial harms does not.
This was not a technical grammar lesson. It was a structural point. The court read the statute as giving the NLRB strong remedial power, but not the kind of free-floating authority that would let the agency act like a jury awarding compensatory damages in civil litigation.
2. The court saw Thryv as legal damages wearing an equitable costume
The Sixth Circuit was especially skeptical of the Board’s effort to describe these awards as just another form of equitable make-whole relief. The court said that paying for direct and foreseeable pecuniary harms looks a lot like compensatory or consequential damages in ordinary tort and contract law. Calling the remedy restorative does not magically transform its legal nature.
That reasoning matters because federal labor law has long treated the Board as a public agency enforcing national labor policy, not as a roving damages tribunal. The court emphasized that many of the losses listed under the Thryv framework are exactly the sort of harms courts typically see in private damages actions. Once you wander into late fees, mortgage fallout, childcare bills, and similar losses, you are a long way from the old familiar neighborhood of reinstatement and back pay.
3. The judges worried about speculation and administrative sprawl
The Sixth Circuit also highlighted a practical problem: expanded remedies can get messy fast. Traditional back-pay calculations are already complicated. Add a worker’s personal financial decisions, downstream debt, household expenses, and chain-of-causation questions, and compliance proceedings start looking like mini tort trials with payroll records, bank statements, and a side order of forensic accounting.
The court plainly did not think Congress designed the NLRA to produce that kind of elaborate and unpredictable remedial machine. In other words, if your labor case starts to resemble a civil-litigation damages seminar, the judges suspect something has gone sideways.
4. The court refused to simply defer to the Board
One of the decision’s quieter but powerful themes is administrative-law skepticism. The Sixth Circuit stressed that courts must independently decide whether an agency stayed within its statutory authority. That matters even more in the post-Loper Bright era, when federal courts are less willing to reflexively defer to agency interpretations.
So this was not just a labor-law ruling. It was also part of a larger judicial trend: agencies do not get to discover major new powers in old statutes just because the wording is roomy enough to tempt them.
The Bigger Picture: A Real Circuit Split
The Sixth Circuit did not act in isolation. Before it, the Third Circuit had already rejected a similar Thryv-based remedy in another Starbucks case. The Fifth Circuit later did the same in Hiran Management v. NLRB. On the other side of the ledger, the Ninth Circuit upheld the Board’s broader approach in the Macy’s lockout case.
That means the country now has an uneven map. In some places, the Board’s expanded remedy theory has survived. In others, it has run into a brick wall wearing a judicial robe. For national employers, that is a compliance headache. For unions and workers, it creates different levels of leverage depending on where a case lands. For lawyers, it creates a classic phrase that billable hours love: “developing circuit split.”
The NLRB has also signaled that it would keep applying Thryv unless binding circuit precedent squarely blocks it. That matters because it means the issue is not fading away on its own. The Board’s position has been: we still believe this remedy is lawful, and we are not packing up the theory just because several appellate courts told us to knock it off.
Why This Decision Matters to Employers
For employers, the Sixth Circuit’s ruling restores some predictability. Traditional NLRB exposure is serious enough: reinstatement, back pay, benefits, notice posting, bargaining orders in some cases, and reputational headaches. But Thryv added a layer of uncertainty that could dramatically increase settlement pressure.
If a remedy can include broad categories of personal financial loss, the value of a case becomes harder to estimate and much more expensive to litigate. Employers do not just worry about whether a discharge was lawful. They also start worrying about the employee’s credit situation, housing status, family-care expenses, medical costs, and other consequences that may be said to flow from the alleged violation. That is a lot of exposure packed into a labor case that used to be more contained.
The Sixth Circuit’s answer was basically this: if Congress wants the Board to award that kind of relief, Congress can say so. Until then, the agency has to stay in its lane.
Why This Decision Matters to Unions and Workers
From the worker side, the ruling is a setback. The original logic of Thryv was not crazy. When an employee is unlawfully fired, the damage is not always limited to missing wages. One lost paycheck can trigger a cascade. Rent becomes late. Credit card balances grow teeth. Retirement accounts get raided. Childcare arrangements fall apart. A strictly back-pay remedy may not fully restore what was lost.
That is the emotional and policy force behind Thryv. It tries to match legal relief with economic reality. In many workplaces, especially lower-margin households, the collateral damage from an unlawful labor practice is not theoretical. It is painfully practical.
But the Sixth Circuit’s message is that sympathetic facts do not expand statutory authority. Courts may agree that workers suffer these losses and still conclude the NLRB is not the body authorized to compensate them for all of it.
What Comes Next?
The obvious next chapter is higher-court review. When three circuits reject an agency’s remedy theory and one circuit approves it, the odds of Supreme Court attention rise. Not every circuit split becomes a blockbuster, but this one combines statutory interpretation, administrative power, and constitutional undertones. That is the kind of cocktail the Supreme Court often at least sniffs before deciding whether to take a sip.
In the meantime, labor practitioners should expect continued fights over remedy language, preservation of objections, and forum-specific strategy. Employers will keep citing the Third, Fifth, and Sixth Circuits. Unions and the Board will keep pointing to the Ninth. And every new case with a Thryv-style order will arrive with one extra question attached: which court gets the last word?
Real-World Experiences and Practical Lessons From the Thryv Fight
To understand why the Sixth Circuit’s ruling matters, it helps to step away from the appellate opinions for a minute and look at what expanded remedies actually meant in the real world. The practical experience around Thryv was not abstract. It changed how cases were valued, how evidence was collected, and how settlement conversations sounded on the ground.
For employers, the biggest experience was uncertainty. A traditional unfair-labor-practice case already carries real risk, but it is at least a familiar kind of risk. Human resources teams know what reinstatement means. Payroll departments know how back-pay calculations usually work. Finance teams can roughly model what exposure might look like. Thryv made those conversations much harder. Suddenly, decision-makers had to ask whether a case might also involve late-payment penalties, emergency moving costs, interim job-search expenses, childcare disruptions, and other personal losses that could expand over time. That does not just raise the number on the spreadsheet. It makes the spreadsheet wobble.
For workers and unions, the experience was almost the mirror image. Thryv gave labor advocates a stronger narrative and, in some cases, stronger leverage. Instead of saying, “Our client lost wages,” they could say, “Our client lost wages, then missed bills, then incurred real financial damage because of the unlawful conduct.” That is a more complete story, and in many workplaces it is also a more honest one. Anyone who has ever lived paycheck to paycheck knows that one illegal discharge can set off a chain reaction faster than a group text after a bad company memo.
For lawyers on both sides, the experience became intensely evidence-driven. A remedy fight under Thryv was not just about whether the employer violated the law. It was also about tracing consequences. Was a charge on a credit card actually caused by the firing? Was a missed payment foreseeable? Was an expense truly tied to the labor violation or just loosely adjacent to it? Those are not impossible questions, but they are fact-heavy, emotionally charged, and expensive to litigate. The more categories of loss a case includes, the more a labor proceeding begins to resemble a damages case from a very different corner of the law.
There was also a strong compliance experience buried in all of this. When the range of possible remedies broadens, internal recordkeeping suddenly matters even more. Employers that once focused mainly on disciplinary documentation had to think harder about timing, consistency, communications, and how a discharge decision would look if a later compliance proceeding began peeling back every consequence that followed. In that sense, Thryv did not just affect litigation. It affected prevention. Managers had more reason to pause before taking action in organizing-sensitive situations.
Another practical lesson is that remedy law shapes bargaining power long before a final order is entered. Even when a claim has not yet been fully quantified, the possibility of a large and unpredictable remedy can change mediation posture, settlement timing, and public messaging. That is one reason these appellate decisions matter so much. They do not merely sort out legal theory for professors and appellate specialists. They influence how hard each side pushes in the ordinary, less glamorous stages of a labor dispute.
Finally, the lived experience of the Thryv era shows why this debate is not going away. Workers see a remedy gap when traditional back pay fails to cover the economic aftershocks of unlawful conduct. Employers see an agency trying to award damages Congress never clearly authorized. Courts now have to choose between those competing instincts. The Sixth Circuit chose statutory restraint over remedial expansion. Whether that choice becomes the national rule is the question hanging over every serious discussion of NLRB remedies right now.
Conclusion
The Sixth Circuit’s rejection of the NLRB’s enhanced remedies under Thryv is not a narrow procedural footnote. It is a major statement about the limits of agency power under the NLRA. The court accepted the Board’s finding that Starbucks violated labor law, but it refused to let the agency convert a labor remedy into a broader compensatory-damages framework.
That puts the Sixth Circuit firmly with the Third and Fifth Circuits and against the Ninth Circuit’s more permissive view. For now, the result is a fractured national landscape, heightened stakes in remedy disputes, and a growing sense that the final answer may come from the Supreme Court. Until then, the practical takeaway is clear: the fight over Thryv is really a fight over how much economic fallout the NLRB can force employers to pay for, and whether Section 10(c) is a scalpel or a Swiss Army knife. The Sixth Circuit just voted for the scalpel.