LEWIS R. MORGAN, Circuit Judge:
This case comes before the court on petition by the National Labor Relations Board for enforcement of its decision and order in Big Three Industrial & Gas Equipment Co., 230 NLRB No. 48 (1977). The Board found that the respondent Big Three violated § 8(a)(1) and § 8(a)(3) of the National Labor Relations Act. We must decide whether principles of law and substantial evidence support the determinations of the Board.
The controverted actions and issues arise from a summer, 1976 union drive among workers at the employer’s Bayport plant in Pasadena, Texas. At this plant, Big Three manufactured oxygen, acetylene and nitrogen employing a workforce divided into two departments: maintenance workers and operations personnel. From the very beginning, union enthusiasm captured the maintenance department.1 On July 1, 1976, a maintenance worker contacted a representative of Oil, Chemical and Atomic Workers, International Union, AFL-CIO to learn about union organizing. Authorization cards were obtained on July 14, and, by the end of the following day, twenty-seven employees, primarily in maintenance, had signed.
From others at the Bayport plant came a very different response. A daunting array of statements by Company supervisors alternately threatened union supporters while offering rewards for union opponents. This barrage commenced on June 29 as Supervisor Lindsay told a worker that a union was “a good way for all of us to get fired,” and continued through August 20 when, in reference to the union, Supervisor Richardson told a worker, “You’re going to get fired just as sure as the world goes around . They’re going to run everybody and bring in contract maintenance.” In addition to threatening union supporters, Big Three operatives dangled rewards before potential union opponents. On several occasions, supervisors indicated to employee Judd that his opposition to the union was well known and thoroughly appreciated. Workers in the operations department were apparently told that they would receive a 40-cent per hour wage increase in exchange for opposing the union.
Not surprisingly, the impetus behind the union drive began to fade. Although 33 of some 35 employees in the maintenance department eventually signed cards, little union zeal emanated from the operations unit. On August 2, with the union campaign at least temporarily stalled, two of its leaders approached the Company’s General Manager, Sid Peters, to suggest the formation of a Company union or committee. Peters flatly rejected this proposal. Efforts to unionize were resumed but with less force than before and with few or no signatures added after August 2.
This diminution of unionist energies, however, did not engender a corresponding reduction in the strident opposition by the Company. On August 9, Supervisor Richardson told union leaders Hurt and Robb they would never get anywhere in the Company because of their activities, and he suggested they find jobs elsewhere. Richardson also disclosed the operation of an anti-union spy, Jim Bowlin, who it was later reported, had been promised a supervisory position in exchange for information about union supporters. On August 17, Richardson told an employee that Bowlin had given the supervisors the names of all employees who signed union cards.
On that same day, amid this continuing background of subtle coercion and outright threats, three employees working overtime ignored a Company directive that they eat dinner on the premises and not leave the plant without punching out or notifying a supervisor. Two of the workers, William Fairless and John Coryell, had signed union [308]*308cards. The third, Lee Judd, had not. Although Supervisor Richardson observed all three breaking the Company rule, he reported only Fairless and Coryell for disciplinary action. The next day Assistant Superintendent Borey, on Richardson’s recommendation, suspended Fairless and Coryell for three days. Later that day, Richardson told the non-unionist rule breaker, Judd, not to leave the plant again without punching out, but added, “Don’t worry about it, though. We’re not after you.”
While measures against union supporters pervade this case, they do not comprise the full story. Harm to the Company occurred as well, when, in July, lumber was jammed into a water pump causing damages of $1,200 to $1,300. Another act of apparent sabotage occurred in August as a boiler was discovered with its internal parts ripped out. This necessitated further repairs costing from $2,000 to $3,000. Then, on August 19 and 20 a series of threats were leveled against the Company and several of its supervisors.
The worst of it fell on Supervisor Richardson whose life was threatened by an anonymous telephone caller on the morning of August 19. Additionally, three shots were fired at his house, and sugar was placed in the gas tanks of his automobiles. Threatening phone calls were also made to the homes of other supervisory personnel and received by their wives causing great tension and anxiety. Further intensifying this wave of fear were several telephone bomb threats made to the plant on the evening of August 19 and on the next morning. As a result, the Company permitted the maintenance workforce to leave for the day on August 20. The operations workers, however, elected to continue working in order to prevent the inordinate expense and delay that any halt in production would have occasioned. Some investigation was made of these incidents by law enforcement officials and by the Company itself. However, no conclusive .identifications of the actual wrongdoers resulted.2 A report of these events was delivered to a Company Vice President on August 23 and on the following day, Company officials met to consider action to solve the problems surrounding the maintenance department.
At this meeting, the plant manager recommended that the maintenance department be replaced by a return to contract maintenance, the means utilized until 1975. On the next day, August 25, Company officials adopted this proposal without attempting to implement alternatives. Later that evening, the Company announced that the maintenance work would be subcontracted and that all thirty-four workers in the maintenance department would be discharged.
From these and similar developments, the Board found that the Company perpetrated unfair labor practices during the period from the launching of the union drive through the mass discharge of the maintenance workforce. The assorted threats, interrogations, promises of benefits and creation of an impression of surveillance constituted violations of § 8(a)(1). The suspension of workers Fairless and Coryell was held to be anti-union discrimination within the proscription of § 8(a)(3). Finally, the mass discharge of all maintenance workers, which the Board found to be motivated by anti-union animus, was found to be a further violation of § 8(a)(3). After separately examining each alleged violation, we find the Board’s determination to be supported by substantial evidence and consistent with the applicable law. We therefore enforce its decision and order.
Section 8(a)(1): Threats, Promises and Supervisory Status
Section 8(a)(1) of the National Labor Relations Act prohibits employers from interfering with, restraining, or coercing employees in the exercise of the rights to [309]*309organize and bargain collectively. 29 U.S.C. § 158(a)(1). The Board identified more than a dozen acts of unlawful interference ranging from subtle intimation of advancement for workers who rejected the union, to crude threats of closing the plant should organizational efforts succeed. Additionally, the Board found that coercive interrogations had occurred in contravention of NLRB v. Gissel Packing Co., 395 U.S. 575, 89 S.Ct. 1918, 23 L.Ed.2d 547 (1969) and that the Company had created an impression of surveillance by the alleged spy, Jim Bowlin.- These words and deeds could not fail to inhibit organizational efforts. Indeed, the Company does not contend that these acts were innocent, but rather argues that the supervisors responsible did not speak or act for the Company. The Administrative Law Judge found that because the operatives in question were supervisors within Section 2(11) of the Act, the Company is responsible for their conduct.
We begin our assessment of the scope of Big Three’s imputed liability by acknowledging the manifest supervisory status of Lindsay, Osborn, Richardson, and the others. These men were held to be supervisors by the Board and we owe deference to this resolution of a fact question and a matter of practical application by the Board to the infinite gradations of authority within a particular industry. NLRB v. Swift & Go., 292 F.2d 561, 563 (1st Cir. 1961). Testing such findings against the standard of substantial evidence, we observe that Lindsay, Park, Richardson and Osborn were empowered to interview job applicants, grant time off, allocate overtime work, transfer employees and recommend wage increases. This authority unquestionably brought them within the criteria of Section 2(11).3 Additionally, the men who the Company currently seeks to disavow were called supervisors, were regarded as such by both workers and higher management and even wore white hats to distinguish themselves from other employees. The case for supervisory status is compelling; it easily suffices as substantial evidence.
However, the fact that perpetrators of anti-union interference are supervisors for Section 2(11) purposes may not conclusively establish an employer’s liability. The definition contained in § 2(11) does not, by its terms, delineate parameters of managerial liability.4 Instead, this provision describes persons who are supervisors for purposes of excluding them from various protections of the Act that other workers enjoy. Beasley v. Food Fair of North Carolina, 416 U.S. 653, 94 S.Ct. 2023, 40 L.Ed.2d 443 (1974). Moreover, in NLRB v. Link-Belt Co., 311 U.S. 584, 599, 61 S.Ct. 358, 366, 85 L.Ed. 368, 378-379 (1940), the Supreme Court said:
If the words or deeds of the supervisory employees, taken in their setting, were reasonably likely to have restrained the employees’ choice and if the employer may fairly be said to have been responsible for them, they are a proper basis for the conclusion that the employer did interfere.
Thus, even if perpetrators of anti-union conduct are § 2(11) supervisors, the specific [310]*310conduct at issue must be cloaked with the employer’s authorization. However, while supervisory acts are not conclusively imputed to the employer, lower court decisions subsequent to Link-Belt Co. frequently assume that when supervisors act, they act for the employer: “If they are supervisors, the Company is responsible for their conduct.” Amalgamated Clothing Workers v. NLRB, 124 U.S.App.D.C. 365, 376, 365 F.2d 898, 909 (1966). See also NLRB v. Kaiser Agr. Chem. Div. of Kaiser A&C Corp., 473 F.2d 374, 384 (5th Cir. 1973); NLRB v. American Mfg. Co. of Texas, 351 F.2d 74, 78 (5th Cir. 1965). The force of presumption is evinced by the methodology of these cases if not their express terms.5
Accordingly, we find in the present case that because the guilty actors are supervisors, Big Three is presumptively liable for their words and deeds. To dispel this presumption, various means are available. For example, a company’s sufficient repudiation of supervisory misconduct may absolve it of liability for unfair labor practices. E. g., Imco Container Co. v. NLRB, 346 F.2d 178, 181 (4th Cir. 1965). In the case before us, though, Big Three does not say that it repudiated the anti-union warfare waged by its supervisors.6 Rather, the Company relies on a second basis for overcoming its presumed liability; Big Three disavows the alleged misconduct claiming that such acts were isolated, casual, innocuous and committed by low-level supervisors.
A recent case forgiving an employer for interference by low ranking supervisors is our decision in Federal-Mogul Corp. v. NLRB, 566 F.2d 1245 (5th Cir. 1978). In that case, we found no § 8(a)(1) liability because:
. these statements were made by low-echelon foremen and supervisors who were friends of the employees and knew them on a first-name basis, the statements were made at the work stations or during work breaks in friendly conversations, and that the statements were isolated and innocuous and were not threats or promises of the Company.
Id. at 1257. See also NLRB v. M&W Marine Ways, Inc., 411 F.2d 1070 (5th Cir. 1969) (action of supervisor in casual conversation does not necessarily violate § 8(a)(1)). Pioneer Drilling Co. v. NLRB, 391 F.2d 961, 964 (10th Cir. 1968). The exemption from liability conferred by these decisions can be explained on two grounds. First, a few casual words may lack the sufficient force to dampen unionist energies. E. g., NLRB v. M&W Marine Ways, Inc., supra, at 1073.7 [311]*311Second, scattered anti-union remarks that are spoken among friends might appear to be independent conclusions of the supervisors rather than the product of organized Company resistance. In the present case, no one calls harmless such patently coercive themes as plant closing, blacklisting and company spying. Because such- activity constituted obvious interference, the Company instead argues that the congenial context dislodged any basis for responsibility. We disagree.
The coercion by Big Three supervisors was not isolated. We do not face a single conversation such as that immunized in Dierks Forests, Inc. v. NLRB, 385 F.2d 48, 50 (8th Cir. 1967), or Pioneer Drilling Co. v. NLRB, 391 F.2d 961, 964 (10th Cir. 1968). Nor were acts of interference thinly spread among 500 employees during an eighteen month period as occurred in Federal-Mogul Corp. v. NLRB, supra. In the present case, we confront some fifteen separate items of coercion directed at 35 workers and concentrated within the two months of the union drive.
Further, there is no showing that these inhibitive exchanges transpired in casual settings that obviated the usual work place relationships. Respondent has not asserted that anti-union remarks issued between old friends at a bar, the situation in Dierks Forests, Inc., supra, or that the speaker expressly disclaimed any authorization by the Company as in Schwob Mfg. Co. v. NLRB, 297 F.2d 864, 869 (5th Cir. 1962). Also missing is the express finding of long standing friendship between speaker and listener, a salient feature of Federal-Mogul Corp. v. NLRB, supra, and NLRB v. M&W Marine Ways, Inc. Here, only one incident, a conversation between Supervisor Lindsay and employee Trojanowski, involved good friends. The friendliness of two other supervisors, Park and Richardson, is subject to serious factual dispute.8 Further, we emphasize that social relationships in themselves are not a sufficient basis to lift acts of illegal interference from the scope of the Company’s responsibility. Friends can unlawfully threaten their friends. Indeed, warnings of Company retaliation cast as friendly advice from a familiar associate might be more credible, hence, more offensive to § 8(a)(1) than generalized utterances by distant Company officials. To escape liability, Big Three must establish that the specific contexts of union-chilling remarks negated the Company’s presumed authorization. Such a burden has not been met. Several coercive encounters occurred behind the closed doors of a company office. With other alleged interference, the record does not indicate the setting, but we emphasize that the Company bears the burden of showing that particular supervisory acts occurred in social rather than business environments.9
The one criterion weighing against imputed liability is the low Company rank of Lindsay, Richardson and the rest. This alone, however, cannot absolve the employer. In NLRB v. Kaiser Agr. Chem. Div. of Kaiser A&C Corp., 473 F.2d 374, 384 (5th Cir. 1973), we said: “The company asserts, however, that the unfair labor practices were not serious since they were committed only by ‘lower-level supervisors.’ The law is to the contrary. An employer is responsible for the acts of its supervisors.” Any other conclusion would encourage compa[312]*312nies to channel coercion through the lower levels of management.
We conclude that the words and acts of Big Three’s supervisors intruded unacceptably upon prerogatives safeguarded by the National Labor Relations Act. The employer failed to repudiate its supervisors at the time they interfered with protected rights; the disavowal attempted in this appeal comes too late. Holding that Big Three is responsible for these unfair labor practices, we enforce the appropriate portion of the Board’s order and decision.
Section 8(a)(3): The Suspension of Fair-less and Coryell
Section 8(a)(3) of the Act prohibits discrimination in regard to tenure or other conditions of employment to discourage union membership. American Ship Building Co. v. NLRB, 380 U.S. 300, 311, 85 S.Ct. 955, 13 L.Ed.2d 855, 863 (1965). The Board found that Big Three committed such unlawful discrimination by the three-day suspension of union supporters Fairless and Coryell. With this determination, the Board reversed the Administrative Law Judge who had concluded that the suspensions were not a consequence of discriminatory intentions, but resulted from the enforcement of a valid Company rule.
Both workers admittedly disobeyed a Company directive by leaving the premises without punching their time clocks or notifying a supervisor. We emphasize, though, that an otherwise valid rule may not be discriminatorily applied to penalize those who assert rights protected under the Labor Act. When selective enforcement is propelled by union animus, the strictures of § 8(a)(3) are contravened. See e. g., NLRB v. Heck’s, Inc., 386 F.2d 317, 320 (4th Cir. 1967). In the case before us, a claim of discriminatory selective enforcement arises because the employer suspended only the union supporters, Fairless and Coryell, while a third rule breaker, Judd, who had not signed a card, suffered just a mild reprimand.
To establish that this disparate treatment was unlawful, it must be shown that the employer’s conduct was inspired by anti-union motivation, which is the primary determinant of § 8(a)(3) violations. NLRB v. Great Dane Trailers, 388 U.S. 26, 87 S.Ct. 1792,18 L.Ed.2d 1027 (1967). The Administrative Law Judge found no intentional discrimination because Superintendent Borey, who ordered the suspension of Fairless and Coryell, was unaware of Judd’s transgression. Since Borey applied the same sanction to the only rule violators known to him, he was innocent of conscious discrimination.
While the Board did not dispute factual findings by the Administrative Law Judge, it reached a contrary result through a different legal analysis of the suspensions. Accepting that Superintendent Borey was unaware of Judd’s rule-breaking, the Board focused on the action by a Company operative who did know that all three workers had broken the Company rule. Supervisor Richardson had observed Fairless, Coryell and Judd leaving the plant without punching out. Yet Richardson reported only the two union supporters for disciplinary action. This intentional disparate treatment was held by the Board to constitute an unfair labor practice.
In assessing conflicts between the Administrative Law Judge and the Board as to conclusions rather than specific factual findings, we must defer to the Board if their determination is supported by substantial evidence. NLRB v. W.R. Grace & Co., Const. Products, 571 F.2d 279, 282 (5th Cir. 1978); Russell-Newman Mfg. Co. v. NLRB, 407 F.2d 247, 249 (5th Cir. 1969). In the present case, we find ample warrant for the Board’s conclusion. The proscription of § 8(a)(3) encompasses more than ultimate punitive decisions inflicted upon union advocates. Intermediate conduct that is causally connected to eventual anti-union action will affront § 8(a)(3) if impelled by union animus. Cf. NLRB v. O. A. Fuller Super Mkts., Inc., 374 F.2d 197, 200 (5th Cir. 1967). Here, Richardson’s report formed the basis for the suspensions and thus unquestionably contributed to the punishment of union adherents. Equally [313]*313clear is the anti-union motive behind Richardson’s action. Illegal purpose may be inferred from the fact that, although three workers disobeyed the rule, Richardson reported only the union supporters. Cf. NLRB v. Great Atlantic & Pacific Tea Co., 409 F.2d 296, 298 (5th Cir. 1969). Further compelling evidence is found in Richardson’s statement to Judd not to worry because the Company was not after him.
We find substantial evidence that the Company violated § 8(a)(3) when Richardson, its supervisor, insured that only union adherents would be punished for their rule-breaking. The Board’s order and remedy for the unlawful suspension of Fairless and Coryell is enforced.
Section 8(a)(3): The Discharge of Every Maintenance Worker
The most serious violation of the Act found by the Board was the allegedly discriminatory discharge of all thirty-four workers in the maintenance department. The Company defended this termination as a necessary response to a rash of problems erupting in the maintenance unit during July and August. The Board rejected the Company’s asserted justification as a deception painted over actions more accurately characterized as the retaliatory firing of union supporters. While we find some truth in the claims of both parties, considerations of policy and law compel affirmance of the Board.-
This court has recently decided a case in which the jobs of an entire workforce were weighed against a myriad of destructive acts directed at an employer. In Johns-Manville Products Corp. v. NLRB, 557 F.2d 1126 (5th Cir. 1977), the court condoned the wholesale disemployment of a 107-man workforce by an employer wracked with weeks of extensive sabotage and spiralling financial losses. In the present case, respondents seek an extension of Johns-Man-ville to immunize the Company’s jettisoning of some thirty-four employees in the problem-plagued maintenance department. The Board argues that our decision of Johns-Manville is unprecedented and urges that we confine the case to its particular factual setting.
Our starting point is the recognition that Big Three’s purported justification for the allegedly discriminatory decision to subcontract differs qualitatively from the usual business explanations proffered in such cases. Here, the unit replacement is not an asserted consequence of changed business conditions, subcontracting economics or other forces of universal application to each worker. E. g., NLRB v. Gopher Aviation, Inc., 402 F.2d 176, 183 (8th Cir. 1968). In the present case, Big Three’s drastic response was to misconduct by a few workers within the maintenance unit — a condition that was neither inevitable nor incapable of differentiated response. Courts have long been loathe to countenance an infliction of punishment upon many for the misdeeds of a few. “Certainly all the employees should ' not be deprived of the benefits of the Act because certain undisclosed ones forfeited their rights.” Stewart Die Casting Corp. v. NLRB, 114 F.2d 849, 856 (7th Cir. 1940). “The violence of these two employees . is not, however, to be imputed to [the] other union members in the absence of proof that identifies others as participating in such violence.” NLRB v. Mt. Clemens Pottery Co., 147 F.2d 262, 268 (6th Cir. 1945).10 The exception created in Johns-Manville arose from extreme circumstances — circumstances threatening the economic survival of the [314]*314plant and effectively denying its use to the employer. At least three factors distinguish Johns-Manville from the present case: the severity of misconduct, the complete absence of anti-union animus, and the employer’s exploration of alternatives to permanent replacement of the workforce. Finding these features inapposite to the present case, we refuse to extend Johns-Manville to exempt Big Three’s mass discharge of 34 maintenance workers.
A necessary predicate to the Johns-Man-ville holding was the determination that, as a matter of law, an in-plant strike had occurred. Because the personnel were deemed strikers, the discharge and permanent replacement of the entire workforce was held to be sanctioned under NLRB v. MacKay Radio & Telegraph Co., 304 U.S. 333, 58 S.Ct. 904, 82 L.Ed. 1381 (1938).11 Thus the Johns-Manville methodology requires a preliminary determination whether misconduct reached dimensions of severity to become functionally equivalent to a strike. While some wrongdoing occurred in the present case, such activity fell far short of the weeks of sabotage inflicted in Johns-Manville. In that case, the employer was repeatedly forced to halt production resulting in large losses to the company. By contrast, Big Three did not suffer even a fleeting interruption in its manufacturing processes and the main financial loss stressed by the respondent in the record is the $4,000-$5,000 repair bill for two. damaged machines.12 Additionally, in Johns-Manville, the court confronted more widespread acts of destruction conducted over a much longer period of time. This arguably suggests involvement or at least tacit approval, of more than a couple of workers. In the present case, telephone threats and related conduct were almost exclusively confined within a thirty-six hour period and were evidently the work of a few individuals.13 We are reluctant to derive a strike by an entire department from conduct that may have represented only one or two embittered workers. Finally, in assessing whether particular misconduct was sufficient to impose the status of a striker upon every worker, we note that in Johns-Man-ville life and limb were actually jeopardized at least once as scrap metal was jammed [315]*315into a machine. If undetected, this action would have caused a serious explosion. In the present case, no actual prospect of harm ever arose at the Big Three job site. While Big Three endured serious mischief, the misconduct did not effectively deny the employer the benefit of his workers’ energies, which is the essence of striking.
A second crucial feature of Johns-Man-ville is the complete absence of anti-union motivation in that case. Anti-union purpose is the principle determinant of § 8(a)(3) violations. NLRB v. Great Dane Trailers, 388 U.S. 26, 87 S.Ct. 1792, 18 L.Ed.2d 1027 (1967). While no basis existed for suggesting actual discriminatory intentions behind the terminations in Johns-Man-ville,14 the present case is fraught with statements and actions providing substantial evidence for the Board’s finding that antipathy toward unionism spawned the maintenance unit dismissal. One circumstance suggesting discriminatory intentions is the fact that the subcontracting decision followed right on the heels of the sharp skirmishes in the union drive. NLRB v. National Food Stores, Inc., 332 F.2d 249, 252 (7th Cir. 1964). Another factor indicating improper motive for the mass discharge is the presence of other unfair labor practices during the period leading up to the unit termination. NLRB v. Big Three Industries, Inc., 497 F.2d 43, 49-51 (5th Cir. 1974). Specifically, the § 8(a)(1) violations found in statements by supervisors and the § 8(a)(3) discrimination underlying the suspension of Fairless and Coryell support the conclusion that anti-union spite prevailed in the decision to replace the maintenance workforce. Moreover, we would be less suspicious of the Company’s real purpose had it not reached the subcontracting decision so hastily but instead had explored means for curing its problems that did not jettison its workers. In sum, these indicia of purpose provide abundant support for the finding that anti-union animus pervaded the Company’s action.
However, even though we endorse the Board’s finding of anti-union animus, we do not entirely discount the Company’s assertions that honest business purposes contributed to its decision to subcontract. The Board did not specifically discredit the words of company officials who attested to the legitimacy of their business justification. Furthermore, we do not doubt that a company with a trouble-ridden workforce would want to eliminate further inconvenience and expense by eliminating the workforce. Cf. NLRB v. R. C. Mahon, 269 F.2d 44, 47 (6th Cir. 1959) (added costs of unionism a legitimate consideration). This seems especially plausible because the company had subcontracted its maintenance work in the past and only since 1975 had the Company directly employed people for the job.
Accepting the Board’s finding of anti-union motivation, and yet assuming the existence of some legitimate business purpose, we are found with a decision activated by two goals: one legitimate, and one that we must condemn. In this circuit, the threshold for illegality is crossed if the force of invidious purpose is “reasonably equal” to the lawful motive prompting conduct. Cramco, Inc. v. NLRB, 399 F.2d 1, 6 (5th Cir. 1968).15 While we cannot fix precise [316]*316percentages for the motivational ingredients of Big Three’s action, we do say that the employer has failed to establish that business justification was dominant. The Board dismissed Big Three’s purported justification as a sham; we find this justification subsidiary to the force of union animus in triggering the mass discharge. Accordingly, the motivational predicate for § 8(a)(3) violations is established.16
In addition to the severity of misconduct, and the purpose behind resulting discharges, a third factor compellingly distends this case from the reach of Johns-Manvffle. The employer in that case exhausted various alternatives before resorting to the unusual and severe solution of unit-wide job termination. In Johns-Manvffle, the employer endured weeks of destruction, gradually accelerating its responses to the spiralling destruction. The Company twice consulted with union leaders asking their help in com-batting the tide of disruption. When that failed, brief lay-offs were effected in the hope of deterring future sabotage. Next, the Company tried to operate with temporary replacements of its trouble-ridden workforce. None of these measures, however, impeded the flow, of the vandalism. Then, after weeks of harm created unacceptable job place tensions, and monthly losses to the Company averaging $300,000, the employees’ jobs were terminated. This exhaustion of alternatives contrasts profoundly with the action of the Big Three employer. Here, an employer faced with much less onerous mischief, reacted almost reflexively and .without considering the jobs and livelihood of its workers. Just five days after the series of threatening phone calls, the Company responded to its problem with the solution most injurious to its employees and their rights under the Labor Act. So swift and harsh a reaction is not acceptable. It tainted the employer’s intentions; further, it cast honest workers into unemployment along with the few miscreants even though such an unfairness might have been avoided.
We do not say that a company plagued with overwhelming troubles from a work unit must invariably endure industrial turmoil until any particular level of harm has accumulated for a court to permit termination of the workforce. But we do say that in this case the Board’s conclusion that matters had not reached such a pass is supported by substantial evidence. The Draconian measure of unit-wide job information is not to be lightly countenanced. The stake of workers in their company is a substantial one. Their employment represents a means of paying bills and supporting their families. It may also reflect the years of hard work and pride invested to better the company and enhance their own job security. This interest of workers is obliterated by job termination. When an entire unit is discarded, the impact on these men and women, and all who would support unions, is profound. “No conduct more drastic, or more likely to have lingering, ineradicable effects can be imagined.” NLRB v. Townhouse T. V. & Appliances, Inc., 531 F.2d 826, 830 (7th Cir. 1976).17 We [317]*317conclude noting that respondent does not challenge the Board’s provisions for remedy — a prescription that includes reinstatement, back pay, and the posting of appropriate notice. Such relief is fully authorized by the Act, e. g., NLRB v. American Mfg. Co. of Texas, supra, and clearly demanded by the facts of this case. The decision and order of the Board is hereby
ENFORCED.