At a time when national momentum is pushing toward the elimination of non-compete agreements as relics of industrial serfdom, Florida has taken a hard right turn. The passage of the “Florida Contracts Honoring Opportunity, Investment, Confidentiality, and Economic Growth (CHOICE)” Act—better known as the CHOICE Act—is nothing short of a legislative betrayal of the working class. Touted by proponents as a defense of free enterprise and contractual freedom, what the CHOICE Act really does is enshrine non-compete agreements into law, making it more difficult than ever for workers—especially those in the mortgage field services industry—to pursue better opportunities or negotiate fairer terms. Florida has now become the most hostile state in the nation for labor mobility, effectively transforming subcontracted laborers into economic hostages.
“The CHOICE Act would codify one of the most anti-innovation, anti-startup, and anti-worker policies to be found anywhere in the country,” John Lettieri, President and CEO of the Economic Innovation Group, a Washington D.C.-based public policy research and advocacy organization, said in May. “While dozens of other states are enacting limitations on the use of noncompete agreements, this legislation would take Florida in the opposite direction — locking in talent, stifling wage growth, and undermining efforts to build a cutting-edge startup ecosystem in the Sunshine State.”
Nowhere is the damage more visible than among Field Service Technicians. These are the workers responsible for securing vacant properties, mowing overgrown lawns, performing winterizations, and hauling out moldy debris from homes abandoned mid-foreclosure. They work in dangerous, unsanitary, and legally ambiguous environments. Yet many of these technicians already operate under oppressive subcontractor agreements that deny them benefits, withhold payments through chargebacks, and often demand 60- to 90-day payment windows — all include waiver of lien which is criminal, not civil, in Tennessee. Now, with the CHOICE Act in place, they are contractually prohibited from leaving one vendor to work for another, even when that new opportunity would offer better pay or working conditions. This isn’t competition; it’s legalized indenture.
Inspectors face an equally dire situation. Responsible for occupancy checks, property condition reports, and photographic documentation, Inspectors must frequently revisit the same properties as foreclosure timelines drag on. Many have built relationships with specific servicers or clients over time, based on consistency and reliability. Under normal circumstances, such relationships might yield better contract terms or leverage to negotiate fairer rates. But the CHOICE Act slams that door shut. Even if a national client wants to hire an Inspector directly—cutting out the middleman who’s skimming 40 percent off the top—non-compete enforcement now ensures that only the vendor, not the worker, controls that decision. The very possibility of labor negotiating upward mobility is stripped away by force of law.
Economically, this creates a devastating imbalance. In a labor market that should be rewarding experience, skill, and professionalism, the CHOICE Act hands permanent leverage to the middle-tier management companies—the Order Mills—who profit not from performance, but from hoarding access to labor pools. Without the ability to leave for greener pastures, technicians are forced to accept whatever rate is handed to them. If the vendor drops pricing, adds new unpaid compliance steps, or implements arbitrary chargebacks, the worker’s only recourse is to quit the industry entirely. The Act doesn’t just stifle competition; it sterilizes it.
The timing of this legislative shift could not be worse. States like California and Minnesota are banning or strictly limiting non-compete clauses, citing their impact on wage stagnation and economic inequality. The Federal Trade Commission is moving toward a nationwide ban that would apply to most private-sector workers. But in Florida, legislators have instead sent a clear message: the right of an employer to control a worker’s future outweighs the worker’s right to pursue it. In doing so, they’ve aligned with the worst instincts of industry giants who rely on a compliant, non-unionized, and immobile workforce to maximize margins and externalize risk.
From a legal standpoint, the CHOICE Act has emboldened vendors to expand the scope of their restrictive covenants. Where once a non-compete clause might last six months and cover a specific client, now some contracts in the field services industry are surfacing with 12- to 24-month non-compete terms and broad geographical coverage that spans entire regions of Florida. The effect is chilling: even if a technician is terminated or unpaid, they can be sued for working elsewhere. It is the height of absurdity—punishing workers not only for disloyalty but for survival.
Field reports already show signs of distress. Field Service Technicians who were previously bouncing between two or three vendors to patch together a living wage now find themselves stuck. As they become locked into one vendor’s terms, they lose the ability to price-shop for better fuel reimbursements or more reasonable turnaround expectations. At the same time, vendors are weaponizing these agreements as pre-litigation tools—threatening lawsuits if technicians are caught doing “unauthorized” work. Inspectors who once collaborated freely across multiple portfolios are now reduced to a single channel of income, often at the mercy of managers thousands of miles away who haven’t stepped foot in a distressed neighborhood in years.
Here is how a C Level staffer at a National Order Mill put it speaking on condition of anonymity to discuss operations,
The ethical implications are profound. Non-competes in this industry aren’t protecting trade secrets or safeguarding proprietary methods—they’re protecting arbitrage. They allow vendors to sell $5 inspections and $35 lawn cuts for a 300% markup, simply because they know the person performing the work has nowhere else to go. And when quality issues arise? Vendors wash their hands, blaming the subcontractor for substandard results, even as they denied that worker the financial flexibility to invest in better equipment, training, or transportation.
Community impact is often overlooked, but it shouldn’t be. When labor is strangled, property conditions deteriorate. Board-ups are missed, grass grows knee-high, and squatters re-enter homes that were supposedly secured. All because the most qualified worker was under a non-compete with one vendor, and the job came through another. In places like Jacksonville, Tampa, and Orlando, where housing blight already compounds post-pandemic economic strain, this creates unnecessary risks for neighborhoods that can ill afford further instability.
Ultimately, the CHOICE Act does not create choice for Labor. It creates choice for Management—management that can now lock down skilled workers, deny them competition, and enforce monopolistic contracts with the full weight of Florida law behind them. It takes an already asymmetrical industry—rife with chargebacks, price fixing, and offloaded liability—and shifts even more power to the top, silencing any hope of grassroots mobility or local empowerment.
Unless overturned or superseded by federal legislation, the CHOICE Act will remain a blunt instrument wielded against the very people who hold this industry together. For Field Service Technicians and Inspectors, it is not a path to prosperity—it is a cage. And for Florida, a state with a long history of labor exploitation in agriculture, hospitality, and construction, the CHOICE Act now adds another ignoble chapter: one where the people preserving our homes and inspecting our neighborhoods are given no choice at all.
