Doug Hamill knew the case would be a fight.
BlueCross BlueShield of Tennessee had a team of seasoned attorneys, led by one of the most respected litigators in the state. Bob Boston of Holland & Knight was at the helm for BlueCross, bringing his deep experience as the company’s longtime employment counsel. Hamill, a Chattanooga-based attorney, was joined only by his paralegal, Krista Guinn.
“Bob Boston is one of the best litigators in the state,” Hamill says. “He’s good on his feet, a great orator and sharp as a tack – but he’s very diplomatic. So when you’re going up against Bob and his team of attorneys – all of whom have been trained to a T – it’s already going to be difficult.”
The case, filed in 2022, centered on Dr. Tanja Benton, a longtime BlueCross employee who claimed the company wrongfully terminated her for refusing a COVID-19 vaccine based on her sincerely held religious beliefs. Benton, who holds a Ph.D., and had worked at the insurer since 2005, served as a biostatistical research scientist. She analyzed health data and advised BlueCross clients on health care benefit options, often working remotely.
When BlueCross announced a vaccine requirement for all employees in August 2021, Benton submitted a religious accommodation request. She explained that, based on her research, she believed the vaccines had been tested using fetal cell lines derived from abortion, which she said was at odds with her faith.
“Being a scientist, Tonja has a naturally curious mind, and she wanted to understand what the vaccines were,” Hamill says. “In her research, she found that during the testing phase of the two leading vaccines, their efficacy was evaluated using a stem cell line originally derived from an aborted fetus. That was the basis of her objection. Because of her strong religious opposition to abortion, she said, ‘I can’t use this product.’”
Benton never claimed the vaccines themselves contained fetal cells – a distinction Hamill emphasized throughout the case.
“She never believed there were actually aborted fetal cells in the manufacture of the vaccine,” he says.
Despite her request, BlueCross denied the accommodation and ultimately terminated her employment. Benton filed suit under Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and its state counterpart, the Tennessee Human Rights Act.
“Title VII is the federal law,” Hamill explains. “Tennessee has a law that tracks in the same way. So, Tonja had a religious accommodation claim under both.”
Hamill argued that Benton’s job could be done just as effectively remotely as in person. In fact, she’d worked from home for 18 months during the pandemic without issue.
“She’d already been doing her job remotely, which is exactly what she was asking to continue,” Hamill says. “None of her clients objected to meeting virtually, and the unrebutted testimony showed her presentations were just as effective online as they were in person. There was no loss in quality.”
One of BlueCross’ own managers testified that virtual meetings made no practical difference in Benton’s work – and that no clients had raised concerns about the lack of in-person interaction. He also said he’d tried to help other employees obtain accommodations but was told by BlueCross’ human resources department that it wasn’t allowed.
Hamill and Guinn both say the process took a significant toll on Benton.
“Her deposition was very long. It was tiring for her. It was tiring for me. It was all day long,” Hamill says. “He [Boston] got pretty aggressive with her. As any good lawyer would, he’d change gears from time to time, which I think was emotionally draining on her.”
Benton also had to watch others testify about her, including a family member.
“They brought her sister-in-law to trial,” Hamill says. “She claimed Tonja wasn’t religious, but under cross-examination, she walked back her story so much that I don’t think the jury believed any of it. She was also employed by BlueCross – which was an interesting detail.”
A critical point of contention at trial was whether Benton’s objection was sincere. That was the only factual dispute the jury had to resolve.
“The only part of our burden of proof that was contested was whether her objection was based on a sincerely held religious belief,” Hamill says.
To win, Benton didn’t have to prove BlueCross acted with malice or that its policy was inherently unlawful. She merely had to show that her request was reasonable, and that allowing it did not create an undue hardship for BlueCross.
“In civil law, ‘preponderance of the evidence’ means it’s ‘more likely than not,’” Hamill says. “So in this case, the evidence supported a finding that a Title VII violation had occurred.”
A key part of Hamill’s argument centered on how BlueCross changed its accommodation process once the vaccine mandate was introduced. Before the pandemic, the company had a structured policy that involved collaboration between an employee’s direct supervisor and a frontline HR representative to evaluate accommodation requests.
But according to Hamill, that process was replaced with a centralized approach that removed individual judgment from the equation.
“Every employee who objected based on religion, or based on medical or disability issues, was now subject to a new process,” Hamill says. “HR became a funnel. They were no longer making decisions. Everything went up to legal, which had a one-size-fits-all policy response.”
Hamill says the “accommodation” Benton received was the same as everyone else: take 30 days to find a new job or reconsider your position.
“They manipulated the accommodation process to produce a predetermined outcome – and it looked good on paper,” Hamill says. “They used all the legal buzzwords. They talked about an ‘interactive process,’ offering an ‘alternate accommodation’ – all this lovely language.”
But for Benton, the proposal was no accommodation at all.
“They knew it was unrealistic to give employees 30 days to find another job during a hiring freeze,” Hamill says. “Just figuring out which positions were subject to the vaccine mandate was difficult – and HR, or talent acquisition, wasn’t helping them match their skills to available roles. They were on their own.”
Guinn adds, “That’s what really brought it back to the David and Goliath dynamic. They decided individual beliefs didn’t matter. It was basically, ‘This is the policy – period.’”
Hamill and Guinn reviewed thousands of pages of documents to build their case, eventually discovering internal drafts outlining the new policy.
“We had to argue over whether certain documents were protected by attorney-client privilege,” Hamill says. “One in particular that we fought hard to obtain – and eventually did – was an email chain among senior HR personnel drafting their one-size-fits-all accommodation proposal.”
The case went to trial in 2024. Benton prevailed, and the jury awarded her $687,000, including $500,000 in punitive damages. After a judge reduced the punitive award to comply with statutory caps, the final judgment totaled approximately $502,000, with attorney’s fees bringing the overall amount to more than $703,000.
“Not a single employee who had requested either a religious or a medical accommodation was able to keep their job,” Hamill notes. “Once the 30 days ran, BlueCross fired every one of them.”
In the months after the verdict, attorneys from across the country contacted Hamill to discuss the case.
“This was the first religious accommodation case involving a mandatory COVID vaccination policy to be tried before a jury in the country,” he says. “Since then, other cases have gone to trial – I know of ones in Detroit and San Francisco – and I’m sure there have been many more.”
Halfway through Benton’s case, the U.S. Supreme Court clarified the standard for employers denying accommodations on the basis of undue hardship.
“BlueCross was asserting the undue hardship defense, but there hadn’t yet been any jury instructions incorporating the recent change in the legal standard,” Hamill says. “So we had a lot of healthy debate over how to craft fair instructions. In this way, the case was a bit novel.”
The case also reinforced Hamill’s measured approach to case selection.
“We’d turned down quite a few calls around the time we took Tanja’s case because we carefully analyze every claim that comes in,” Hamill says. “But in her case, I believed she could win – even under the old standard.”
Hamill also notes he’s gone up against major corporations before, but this case was different.
“It was bigger, maybe, in the sense that it was novel,” he says. “BlueCross knew there were a lot of claims being brought against them, and they were standing firm. They believed they could successfully defend every one of them.”
As for Benton, she eventually found a new job. “She’s doing well,” Hamill says. “But it took over a year. She had a very niche job.”
The trial might be over, but its impact is still being felt. “Whenever you have a test case, it’s going to have ramifications,” Hamill says. “What those are, I’ll never know – but I received a lot of emails and phone calls from attorneys handling similar cases, asking to pick my brain.”
Guinn adds, “And people are tired of big corporations making personal decisions for them.”
In this case, a jury agreed.