In the

    United States Court of Appeals
                 For the Seventh Circuit
                     ____________________
No. 23-2964
JOSE AGEO LUNA VANEGAS,
                                                   Plaintiff-Appellee,
                                 v.

SIGNET BUILDERS, INC.,
                                               Defendant-Appellant.
                     ____________________

        Appeal from the United States District Court for the
                    Western District of Wisconsin.
       No. 3:21-cv-00054-jdp — James D. Peterson, Chief Judge.
                     ____________________

    ARGUED MARCH 29, 2024 — DECIDED AUGUST 16, 2024
               ____________________

   Before ROVNER, ST. EVE, and PRYOR, Circuit Judges.
    ST. EVE, Circuit Judge. This case presents two questions.
First, do Fair Labor Standards Act collective actions, like Rule
23 class actions, require personal jurisdiction only over their
representative plaintiffs? Second, and if not, does Federal
Rule of Civil Procedure 4 furnish a backdoor way to exercise
nationwide personal jurisdiction in FLSA cases? We answer
both in the negative. A court overseeing a collective action
2                                                 No. 23-2964

must secure personal jurisdiction over each plaintiff’s claim,
whether representative or opt-in, individually.
                       I. Background
   This is a successive appeal; factual details appear in Luna
Vanegas v. Signet Builders, Inc., 

 (7th Cir. 2022).
    To briefly recap, the defendant here, Signet Builders, Inc.,
is both incorporated and headquartered in Texas. Its construc-
tion business, though, spans the nation. Signet largely hires
holders of H-2A guestworker visas. These visas allow Signet
to hire guestworkers for “agricultural” work. 

. Jose
Ageo Luna Vanegas—the plaintiff—is one of those guest-
workers. Working for Signet, he built structures to house live-
stock in three states, including Wisconsin.
    Luna Vanegas alleges Signet overworked and underpaid
him. 

 Under the Fair Labor Standards Act (“FLSA”), 29
U.S.C. §§ 201–219, an employer generally must pay its em-
ployees time-and-a-half for hours worked past the first 40 per
week. See 

(a). Exceptions apply. One carves out
“any employee employed in agriculture.” 

 § 213(b)(12). Be-
cause the H-2A visa requires guestworkers to work in the “ag-
ricultural” sector, Signet long considered them exempt from
the FLSA (and so denied them overtime pay).
    Unhappy with the policy, Luna Vanegas sued Signet in the
Western District of Wisconsin. He brought a collective action,
as the FLSA permits. Id. § 216(b). Then he served a summons
on Signet at its Austin, Texas, office under Rule 4. Signet
moved to dismiss, invoking the FLSA’s agriculture exception,
and the district court granted the motion. We reversed that
decision. See Luna Vanegas, 

.
No. 23-2964                                                     3

    Still pursuing this case as a collective action—the FLSA’s
mechanism for aggregating workers’ claims into one suit—
Luna Vanegas moved for conditional certification; he sought,
in other words, to establish that other Signet workers “should
be sent a notice of their eligibility to participate and given the
opportunity to opt in to the collective action.” Ervin v. OS Rest.
Servs., Inc., 

 (7th Cir. 2011). The court granted
his motion, giving the green light to notify others about the
pending FLSA suit and ask whether they might like to join.
    The next round of litigation (to which this appeal belongs)
seeks to define the scope of that notice. While Luna Vanegas
pushed for nationwide distribution, Signet wanted to limit
notice to those who had worked in Wisconsin. It reasoned that
the Wisconsin court had only specific jurisdiction over Signet,
meaning it could adjudicate only claims from laborers who
had worked in Wisconsin. Deferring decision on that point,
the district court opted to order broad notice straightaway
and planned to sort out jurisdictional questions later.
    Ultimately the district court certified the question whether
the court must have specific jurisdiction over the claim of each
opt-in plaintiff in an FLSA collective action. In doing so, it
sided with Luna Vanegas, holding there is no such require-
ment. We accepted the interlocutory appeal under 

(b) and now reverse.
                          II. Analysis
    Absent a party’s consent to personal jurisdiction, see Mal-
lory v. Norfolk S. Ry. Co., 

 (2023), a court must se-
cure either general or specific jurisdiction. General jurisdic-
tion over a defendant permits a court to adjudicate any claim
against it but exists only where a defendant is “essentially at
4                                                    No. 23-2964

home” because its contacts with a given state are “continuous
and systematic,” as when a business is headquartered or in-
corporated in that state. Goodyear Dunlop Tires Ops., S.A. v.
Brown, 

 (2011). By contrast, specific jurisdiction
lets a court decide only claims relating to a “defendant’s con-
tacts with the forum.” Helicopteros Nacionales de Colombia, S.A.
v. Hall, 

, 414 n.8 (1984). Specific jurisdiction covers
adjudication of “issues deriving from, or connected with, the
very controversy that establishes jurisdiction.” Goodyear, 

 (citations omitted).
    The Supreme Court has disapproved exercises of specific
jurisdiction that “resemble[] loose and spurious form[s] of
general jurisdiction.” Bristol-Myers Squibb Co. v. Superior Ct. of
California, San Francisco Cnty., 

 (2017)
(“BMS”). Luna Vanegas offers up two theories that seek to ex-
plain how a district court can exercise specific jurisdiction
over a case involving a nationwide collective. But both share
a fatal flaw. In stretching specific jurisdiction so far, Luna
Vanegas would distend it into a “loose and spurious form of
general jurisdiction.” 

 We cannot agree with that result.
A. Bristol-Myers Squibb Requires Claim-Specific Analysis
    Two key cases assessing personal jurisdiction in other
forms of aggregate litigation help frame the issue here. One
addresses a California procedure called a mass action; the
other deals with Rule 23 class actions. We conclude this case
is more like a mass action.
    First came the Supreme Court’s Bristol-Myers Squibb opin-
ion. There, 86 California residents and 592 others sued in Cal-
ifornia’s state courts relating to injuries they attributed to a
prescription blood thinner. These claims proceeded together
No. 23-2964                                                     5

under § 404 of California’s Civil Procedure Code, which con-
solidates claims into one suit—a “mass action.” The claims,
though, remain “individual cases, brought by individual
plaintiffs.” Mussat v. IQVIA, Inc., 

 (7th Cir.
2020).
    In adjudicating mass actions, the California courts had
taken a “sliding scale approach to specific jurisdiction” that
accounted for the defendant’s contacts with California even
for out-of-state claims. BMS, 

 (cleaned up). That
would not do. The BMS Court derided this approach as “dif-
ficult to square with [its] precedents,” adding that it “resem-
bles a loose and spurious form of general jurisdiction.” 

. It held that for personal jurisdiction, it is not enough that
a court has personal jurisdiction over some of those individu-
alized claims in the mass action. The Fourteenth Amend-
ment’s due process guarantee sets a higher bar. Instead, the
Court stressed, each claim must stand alone. “What is needed
… is a connection between the forum and the specific claims
at issue.” 

.
    Second is our opinion in Mussat, 953 F.3d at 448–49, where
we distinguished class actions from BMS-style mass actions,
marking class actions as an exception to BMS’s rule. That
holding relied on key features of Rule 23 class actions that
protect absentee plaintiffs and facilitate representative litiga-
tion: “the lead plaintiffs earn the right to represent the inter-
ests of absent class members,” id. at 447, which entails “a rig-
orous analysis” to confirm the named plaintiffs will well rep-
resent the absentees. Wal-Mart Stores, Inc. v. Dukes, 

, 350–51 (2011) (cleaned up). In direct terms, Rule 23 re-
quires that “the representative parties will fairly and ade-
quately protect the interests of the class.” Fed. R. Civ. P.
6                                                     No. 23-2964

23(a)(4). Not so for mass actions, with their “individual cases,
brought by individual plaintiffs.” Mussat, 

.
    Such “[p]rocedural formalities matter,” as we put it then.

 Because of those procedural formalities in Rule 23, “the
class as a whole is the litigating entity.” 

. Or in other
words, the class “acquires an independent legal status.” Gen-
esis Healthcare Corp. v. Symczyk, 

 (2013). That
means “[t]he absent class members are not full parties to the
case for many purposes,” including personal jurisdiction.
Mussat, 

. This lack of party status is why “the
named representatives must be able to demonstrate either
general or specific personal jurisdiction, but the unnamed
class members are not required to do so.” 

 A “district court
need not have personal jurisdiction over the claims of absent
class members at all,” 

, because they are not parties
for this purpose.
    “Class actions, in short, are different from many other
types of aggregate litigation, and that difference matters in
numerous ways for the unnamed members of the class.” 

 at
446–47. Other circuits have agreed that Rule 23’s unique fea-
tures call for this kind of representative-focused inquiry into
jurisdiction. See, e.g., Lyngaas v. Curaden Ag, 

, 435
(6th Cir. 2021) (“[A] class action is formally one suit.”); Fischer
v. Fed. Express Corp., 

 (3d Cir. 2022) (“[I]n a
class action, the relevant claim is the claim of the class.”).
    Because we find that an FLSA collective action tracks with
a mass action—and is quite unlike a class action—we reach
the same result as the Court did in BMS. Or stated differently,
we hold that BMS requires a claim-by-claim personal jurisdic-
tion analysis in the FLSA context. In so holding we join three
of our sister circuits. See Canaday v. Anthem Cos., Inc., 9 F.4th
No. 23-2964                                                      7

392 (6th Cir. 2021) (applying BMS’s rule to collective actions);
Vallone v. CJS Sols. Grp., LLC, 

 (8th Cir. 2021) (same);
Fischer, 

 (same); but see Waters v. Day & Zimmer-
mann NPS, Inc., 

 (1st Cir. 2022) (declining to do
so). Their example helps confirm our conclusion’s faithful ad-
herence to BMS.
    We start, though, with the text that creates the FLSA col-
lective action, which sheds light on its structural parallels
with the mass action. Specifically, 

(b) provides:
   An action to recover the liability prescribed in the pre-
   ceding sentences may be maintained against any em-
   ployer … by any one or more employees for and in be-
   half of himself or themselves and other employees sim-
   ilarly situated. No employee shall be a party plaintiff
   to any such action unless he gives his consent in writ-
   ing to become such a party and such consent is filed in
   the court in which such action is brought.
Notably, the statute calls the prospective opt-ins “party plain-
tiff[s].” Mussat vests that label with importance: we held that
BMS does not extend to class actions only because of the ab-
sentee plaintiffs’ nonparty status under Rule 23. Section
216(b), by contrast, confers on opt-in plaintiffs the rights and
duties of parties. See Charles Alan Wright, Arthur R. Miller &
Mary Kay Kane, Federal Practice and Procedure § 1807 (3d ed.
2005) (“[E]very plaintiff who opts in to a collective action has
party status, whereas unnamed class members in Rule 23
class actions do not.”). That includes the duty to show per-
sonal jurisdiction; just as in BMS, “all of the plaintiffs are
named parties to the case” here. Mussat, 

.
8                                                  No. 23-2964

    Consider, too, what § 216(b) omits. Nothing in the statute
ensures adequate representation. Once an employee “gives
his consent in writing” and files it with the court, his interest
merges into the suit—quite unlike the Rule 23 process, where
“lead plaintiffs earn the right to represent the interests of ab-
sent class members by satisfying all four criteria of Rule 23(a)
and one branch of Rule 23(b).” Id. “Section 216(b) has nothing
comparable to Rule 23(b)(3)’s requirements of predominance
or superiority,” Scott v. Chipotle Mexican Grill, Inc., 

 (2d Cir. 2020). The “two provisions ‘bear little resem-
blance to each other,’” Fischer, 

 (quoting Scott,

), which is why courts must establish jurisdic-
tion over each FLSA plaintiff’s claim, whether “representa-
tive” or opt-in, but not each class member’s.
    The statute’s history is not our starting point—the text
holds that place—but it further confirms that FLSA collectives
work differently from class actions. “In response to excessive
representative litigation, Congress added the opt-in provision
to the FLSA in 1947.” Canaday, 

. When the first
FLSA suits were brought in the late 1930s and early 1940s,
they often were representative, and plaintiffs not wishing for
the judgment to bind them had to opt out. In those days, the
statute “gave employees and their ‘representatives’ the right
to bring actions to recover amounts due under the FLSA.”
Hoffman-La Roche Inc. v. Sperling, 

 (1989). The
Portal-to-Portal Act of 1947 effected that change, essentially
giving plaintiffs in representative actions 120 days to become
party plaintiffs or find their claims time-barred. See Portal-to-
Portal Act of 1947, ch. 52, § 8 (applying statute of limitations
“to an individual claimant who has not been specifically
named as a party plaintiff to the action prior to the expiration
No. 23-2964                                                      9

of one hundred and twenty days” from the Act’s effective
date).
    The whole idea was “limiting private FLSA plaintiffs to
employees who asserted claims in their own right and freeing
employers of the burden of representative actions.” Hoffmann-
La Roche Inc. v. Sperling, 

 (1989). Setting out to
curtail representative suits, Congress chose to “create a sys-
tem of ‘permissive joinder’ rather than creating ‘so-called
class actions.’” Fischer, 

 (quoting Fink v. Oliver
Iron Mining Co., 

 (D. Minn. 1941)). To en-
sure FLSA plaintiffs were real parties in interest, Congress
made them real parties.
    The dissent quibbles with this statutory history, positing
for instance that the Portal-to-Portal Act’s true purpose was to
“eliminate the possibility of ‘one-way intervention.’” That
might be. But even if so, that only bolsters our holding; the
way Congress chose to cut out the possibility of plaintiffs
jumping on board after a favorable judgment was to make
them true parties the moment they join the case.
    What is more, in practice courts treat FLSA collectives as
agglomerations of individual claims. For one thing, “each
FLSA claimant has the right to be present in court to advance
his or her own claim.” Wright & Miller § 1807. Further, the
statute of limitations on opt-in plaintiffs’ claims enjoys tolling
only after the plaintiff files her consent, which goes to show
the focus on a plaintiff’s own management of her claim. See
Mickles v. Country Club, Inc., 

 (11th Cir.
2018). Rule 23 class actions work the opposite way: “the com-
mencement of a class action suspends the applicable statute
of limitations as to all asserted members of the class.” Am. Pipe
& Const. Co. v. Utah, 

 (1974). Finally, “there
10                                                    No. 23-2964

are no anonymous plaintiffs” in a collective action. Anderson
v. Montgomery Ward & Co., Inc., 

 (7th Cir.
1988). From filing to judgment, “collective actions permit in-
dividualized claims and individualized defenses.” Canaday, 

. Luna Vanegas invites us to make personal juris-
diction the exception. With respect, we decline.
   In short: FLSA collective actions are unlike class actions.
Just like the mass action in BMS, a collective action is no more
than a “consolidation of individual cases, brought by individ-
ual plaintiffs.” Mussat, 

. That individual char-
acter extends to personal jurisdiction.
     Any counterarguments are unavailing.
    For one, Luna Vanegas stresses certain similarities be-
tween class and collective actions. We have said, for example,
that “there isn’t a good reason to have different standards for
the certification of the two different types of action.” Espen-
scheid v. DirectSat USA, LLC, 

 (7th Cir. 2013).
Other times we have called the collective action “a genuine
representative action.” Woods v. N.Y. Life Ins. Co., 

 (7th Cir. 1982).
    In rejecting this argument, we heed the Supreme Court’s
comment that “significant differences” separate class from
collective actions. Genesis Healthcare, 

 n.1. Indeed,
in that same case the Court reasoned that “Rule 23 actions are
fundamentally different from collective actions under the
FLSA” in rejecting a proposed extension of class action
caselaw to cover collective actions. 

. With those ad-
monitions in mind, we cannot put the same load-bearing
weight on Espenscheid and Woods that Luna Vanegas assigns
them. Even so, we need not disturb those holdings—the Court
No. 23-2964                                                    11

itself did “not express an opinion” on the use of Rule 23 stand-
ards to guide conditional certification decisions. 

 at 70 n.1.
   Next Luna Vanegas posits that BMS applies only in state
court. Not so. True, the Court did cabin its holding to “the due
process limits on the exercise of specific jurisdiction by a
State,” leaving “open” the issue “whether the Fifth Amend-
ment imposes the same restrictions.” BMS, 

.
    But Luna Vanegas cannot slip through that opening. While
the Fifth Amendment does constrain federal courts’ jurisdic-
tion, in this case the Fourteenth Amendment operates to re-
strict jurisdiction further. After all, “[f]ederal courts ordinar-
ily follow state law in determining the bounds of their juris-
diction over persons,” Daimler AG v. Bauman, 

(2014), because federal courts ordinarily secure their jurisdic-
tion through Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 4(k)(1)(A),
which in turn pulls in state law limits on jurisdiction. See Can-
aday, 

. For reasons that follow below, this case is
no outlier. The Fourteenth Amendment, not the Fifth, does all
the jurisdictional work in this case. So BMS does apply, by
operation of the Fourteenth Amendment.
    This conclusion also answers the dissent’s contention that
the BMS Court “expressly excepted from its holding exercises
of personal jurisdiction made by federal courts under the Fifth
Amendment.” We do just the same today. Or put just a bit
differently: we hold, as BMS did, that the Fourteenth Amend-
ment imposes those restrictions—adding only that through
Rule 4(k)(1)(A), they apply to the district court too.
   The dissent notes that the Court characterized its BMS
holding as a “straightforward application … of settled princi-
ples of personal jurisdiction.” Id. at 268. Well-settled though
12                                                  No. 23-2964

the principles may be, BMS’s application led many courts to
reexamine personal jurisdiction’s role in complex litigation.
Mussat and its cousins, and FLSA cases like this one, are part
of that reexamination process, which started in the last dec-
ade. The dissent’s reference to eighty years of FLSA history
implies we should craft jurisdictional rules to prop up exist-
ing practices in labor law. But it is the time period since the
Supreme Court spoke in BMS—and not the preceding seventy
years—that most bears on our decision.
    In like vein, the dissent seeks to distinguish BMS on the
ground that its “procedural mechanism permitted the re-
dispersal of the individual suits after the common questions
were resolved.” It insists that the FLSA works differently, so
that “the claims of all plaintiffs who have opted in are
resolved together.” Yet, we have held, the “district court has
wide discretion to manage collective actions.” Alvarez v. City
of Chicago, 

 (7th Cir. 2010). That includes the
authority to divide a collective into pieces and adopt “a
subclaim approach” to handle those pieces separately. 

    Last, Luna Vanegas entreats us to consider the possibility
of “pendent” personal jurisdiction over claims by opt-in
plaintiffs. “The idea comes in two forms—pendent claim and
pendent party personal jurisdiction.” Canaday, 

.
The former doctrine permits courts asserting personal juris-
diction over one claim to extend that jurisdiction to another
related claim by the same plaintiff. The latter is similar, except
the two claims come from two different parties.
    We have recognized pendent claim personal jurisdiction
just once before, in Robinson Eng’g Co. Pension Plan & Trust v.
George, 

 (7th Cir. 2000). When we did so, we rea-
soned that “federal claims” in the case “provided for
No. 23-2964                                                     13

extraterritorial service”—there, “claims under the Securities
Act and the Securities Exchange Act.” 

. Those nation-
wide service provisions are a key ingredient for this doctrine.
See ESAB Grp., Inc. v. Centricut, Inc., 

, 626 (4th Cir.
1997) (permitting pendent personal jurisdiction only “[w]here
… Congress has authorized nationwide service of process”
(cleaned up)). No such claim exists in this case, so even pen-
dent claim personal jurisdiction is unavailable here.
    Yet Luna Vanegas asks us to push the doctrine still further,
to endorse pendent party personal jurisdiction. This we have
never done; indeed, we are aware of no circuit court to adopt
the theory. And without even one “anchor” claim endowed
with extraterritorial service, this case cannot be the first.
     Even if we look past that defect to view the issue more
generally, we find pendent party personal jurisdiction “hard
to reconcile with Bristol-Myers.” Canaday, 

. It rec-
reates the same “loose and spurious form of general jurisdic-
tion” decried in BMS, 

. “No less importantly,
no federal statute or rule authorizes pendent claim or pendent
party personal jurisdiction.” Canaday, 9 F.4th at 401–02. Even
the very broadest theories of personal jurisdiction recognize
Congress’s primacy in defining its bounds, opining that
“Congress can extend the federal courts’ personal jurisdiction
as far as it wants.” Stephen E. Sachs, The Unlimited Jurisdiction
of the Federal Courts, 

, 1729 (2020). Congress
may possess such broad power, but we surely do not.
                         *      *       *
   The district court’s personal jurisdiction reaches only
those claims that Wisconsin’s specific jurisdiction embraces.
The bulk of these will, like Luna Vanegas’s, involve work
14                                                    No. 23-2964

performed in Wisconsin—though we leave it to the district
court to decide if others fit the bill.
B. Rule 4 Does Not Undermine the BMS Holding
   Our BMS analysis depends on a foundational precept: that
the Fourteenth Amendment does in fact limit the district
court’s personal jurisdiction over opt-in claims. Luna Vanegas
challenges that precept, but he is mistaken.
    He starts with a correct observation: the Constitution per-
mits federal courts to exercise personal jurisdiction subject
only to Fifth Amendment limits. The scope of these limits is
unclear. Courts taking the narrow view have imported the
Fourteenth Amendment general-specific dichotomy to the
Fifth Amendment, looking for contacts between the defend-
ant and the United States as a whole. See, e.g., Laurel Gardens,
LLC v. Mckenna, 

 (3d Cir. 2020). Other jurists
read the Fifth Amendment more broadly, authorizing Con-
gress to extend jurisdiction as far as it likes. See, e.g., Lewis v.
Mutond, 

 (D.C. Cir. 2023) (Rao, J., concurring).
    Although even the narrow view of the Fifth Amendment
would allow the district court to decide any claim against Sig-
net (a United States corporation), the Fifth Amendment is
only part of the story. Other constraints limit courts’ personal
jurisdiction. This fact owes to a bedrock principle: “Before a
federal court may exercise personal jurisdiction over a de-
fendant, the procedural requirement of service of summons
must be satisfied.” Omni Capital Int’l, Ltd. v. Rudolf Wolff & Co.,
Ltd., 

 (1987) (cleaned up). Federal Rule of Civil
Procedure 4 defines this procedure, which entails giving each
defendant a copy of the complaint, plus a summons from the
court, to notify them of the pending suit.
No. 23-2964                                                    15

    Rule 4 explains that service “establishes personal jurisdic-
tion over a defendant” only in certain situations. Two are rel-
evant here: Rule 4(k)(1)(C) and Rule 4(k)(1)(A).
    The first allows for effective service “when authorized by
a federal statute.” Fed. R. Civ. P. 4(k)(1)(C). Some statutes per-
mit service nationwide. Take the Clayton Act, which provides
“process … may be served … wherever [the defendant] may
be found.” 

. Other “examples of legislation ex-
pressly authorizing nation-wide service” touch areas like se-
curities and retirement plans. Laurel Gardens, 948 F.3d at 119–
20.
    When there is no statutory authorization for effective ser-
vice, Rule 4(k)(1)(A) applies. It makes service effective on a
defendant “who is subject to the jurisdiction of a court of gen-
eral jurisdiction in the state where the district court is lo-
cated.” And so where a party perfects service under Rule
4(k)(1)(A), federal courts must assess the limits on state courts’
jurisdiction to determine their own. Stated differently, a
court’s jurisdiction must comply with both Fifth Amendment
due process and the applicable state court limitations—in-
cluding those announced in BMS. In keeping with that man-
date, “[f]ederal courts ordinarily follow state law in determin-
ing the bounds of their jurisdiction over persons.” Daimler,

. Service statutes conferring broad, nationwide
jurisdiction are the exception, not the rule.
    No exception applies here, for the FLSA enjoys no special
jurisdictional reach. But Luna Vanegas still thinks the court’s
jurisdiction over later opt-in plaintiffs should be judged by the
generous Fifth Amendment standard. He reasons that when
he served Signet for his own Wisconsin suit, the court “estab-
lishe[d] personal jurisdiction.” Fed. R. Civ. P. 4(k)(1). With
16                                                  No. 23-2964

that out of the way, he contends, opt-in plaintiffs need only
comply with the Fifth Amendment. To bolster that claim, he
points out that opt-in plaintiffs need not serve a summons on
the defendant. Instead, he presses, the law requires only less-
rigorous Rule 5 service, which involves no summons. See Fed.
R. Civ. P. 5(b). Outside the FLSA context, parties use Rule 5
service for such lower-stakes items as “a discovery paper re-
quired to be served on a party.” Fed. R. Civ. P. 5(a)(1)(C).
    Pulling all this together: Luna Vanegas argues, at bottom,
that once a court establishes its personal jurisdiction under
Rule 4, any new claims or parties need only comply with the
Fifth Amendment—unless the addition explicitly calls for a
new summons as, e.g., Fed. R. Civ. P. 14(a)(1) does.
    “That is not how it works.” Canaday, 

. Rule
4(k)(1)(A), rather, “authorizes personal jurisdiction in federal
court only as far as would be authorized in state court.”
Wright & Miller, § 1069. Or, in other words, when the court
asserts its jurisdiction through Rule 4(k)(1)(A) service, all it
gets is what a state court would have. “In the case of general
personal jurisdiction, once the court asserts personal jurisdic-
tion over a defendant through service of process under Rule
4(k)(1)(A), the defendant is subject to the jurisdiction of the
court with regard to any and all claims that might be
brought.” Fischer, 

. On the flip side, in the case
of specific personal jurisdiction, the defendant is subject to ju-
risdiction only for claims tied to its contacts with the state.
    If it should become necessary to expand that jurisdiction,
that is an occasion for new Rule 4 service. 

. This
would not be unprecedented. See Wright & Miller, § 1146
(“[F]airness may require the court to order that jurisdiction be
No. 23-2964                                                 17

reasserted over [a] party himself [under Rule 4] rather than
rely on … Rule 5(b).”).
    Just as with pendent party personal jurisdiction, we find
Luna Vanegas’s theory “hard to reconcile with Bristol-Myers,”
Canaday, 

, as it would create another “loose and
spurious form of general jurisdiction.” BMS, 

.
Indeed, Luna Vanegas’s theory would permit later-added
claims of any kind—whether under the FLSA or plain old
Rule 18 joinder—to sidestep the usual jurisdictional limits.
    Nor can we square that result with the outcome in Tamburo
v. Dworkin, 

 (7th Cir. 2010), where we used Rule
4(k)(1)(A) and its inherent Fourteenth Amendment analysis to
find a lack of personal jurisdiction over claims added after the
service of summons on the defendant under Rule 5. Both
scholars and other courts agree that Luna Vanegas’s theory is
flatly inconsistent with Tamburo. See A. Benjamin Spencer, Out
of the Quandary: Personal Jurisdiction over Absent Class Member
Claims Explained, 

, 43 (2019) (“[C]ourts regu-
larly apply Rule 4(k)(1)(A) limitations to the claims appearing
in amended complaints.”); Canaday, 

.
    Pushing back, Luna Vanegas points to our statements in
Mussat that Rule 4(k) does not “establish[] an independent
limitation on a federal court’s exercise of personal jurisdic-
tion.” 

. But what we held in Mussat is that “a
district court need not have personal jurisdiction over the
claims of absent class members at all.” 

. The Mussat
defendant looked in vain for such a requirement in Rule 4(k).
But a district court does need personal jurisdiction over each
FLSA plaintiff. Rule 4(k) just defines when that obligation is
met, when it does exist. Today’s holding coheres with Mussat.
18                                                  No. 23-2964

   Nor does Luna Vanegas persuade us by citing Federal
Rule of Civil Procedure 82, which provides that the Rules “do
not extend or limit the jurisdiction of the district courts.” The
Supreme Court has long held “Rule 82 must be taken to refer”
to “jurisdiction of the subject matter,” not over the person.
Miss. Pub. Corp. v. Murphree, 

 (1946).
    Another argument compares Rule 5—the Rule under
which new FLSA opt-ins inform defendants of their debut in
the case—to Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 14(a)(1), the one
for impleading a third-party defendant into the case. The lat-
ter calls for the third-party plaintiff to “serve a summons and
complaint” on the new party it impleads. 

 Luna Vanegas
notes the absence of such language in Rule 5 and concludes
future opt-ins never must assert new personal jurisdiction on
a defendant. That does not follow. The rule is this: a court as-
serting specific personal jurisdiction it previously lacked
needs a summons. Fischer, 

 (“[I]f an additional
plaintiff seeks to join the suit bringing her own claims, or if
the original plaintiff seeks to add or amend claims, there is no
need to serve the defendant again as long as the new claims
arise out of or relate to the defendant’s minimum contacts
with the forum state, because the defendant would already be
subject to the jurisdiction of the court with respect to those
claims”.). The Rule 14 scenario brings new personal jurisdic-
tion over a new defendant, so it calls for Rule 4 service. Opt-
ins need new personal jurisdiction if their claims do not arise
out of or relate to the defendant’s minimum contacts with the
forum state. In that scenario, a summons is necessary in the
appropriate forum; otherwise, the Rule 5 process does the job.

No. 23-2964                                                     19

    The dissent calls this a “new rule.” But as Fischer ex-
plained, this is just one application of existing law. 42 F.4th at
386–87. Authorities have cautioned that Rule 5 service “is in-
valid” when “the district court has personal jurisdiction over
the defendant only because the act that forms the basis of the
original claim occurred within the jurisdiction, and the plain-
tiff would be unable to bring an independent suit … in the
same court because that claim lacks a nexus with the forum.”
Wright & Miller, § 1146. We adopt and apply that rule here,
as the Fischer court did, because we agree that “Rule 5 is better
seen as an alternative to Rule 4 to providing notice to an op-
posing party in circumstances where the court already has
personal jurisdiction over the defendant with regard to the
plaintiff's claims.” 

.
    In the same vein, Luna Vanegas observes that for substitu-
tions under Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 25(a)(3), the new
plaintiff need only serve “the parties as provided in Rule 5.”
But this Rule cuts against him: if the substitution would bring
in a new party, that still calls for service “as provided in Rule
4,” just as we hold here. 

    No parade of horribles undercuts our holding. Both Luna
Vanegas and the dissent call our attention to core FLSA aims,
including “efficiency in the resolution of disputes, by resolv-
ing in a single action common issues arising from the same
alleged illegal activity.” Bigger v. Facebook, Inc., 

 (7th Cir. 2020). But our holding does not undermine the
efficiency of FLSA suits. A nationwide collective of Signet’s
workers could proceed in Texas, which enjoys general juris-
diction over Signet, with no loss of efficiency.
   And the dissent’s concern that Signet might be forced to
defend suits in several jurisdictions is misplaced. For no
20                                                   No. 23-2964

matter what we decide today, the choice to concentrate the
claims into one suit or disperse them across the nation rests
always in plaintiffs’ hands. In this way, too, the FLSA is unlike
a class action. The FLSA claims will splinter into different
suits if (and only if) the plaintiffs so choose. The dissent’s rule
would not alter that, so the specter of “thousands of mini tri-
als” looms either way.
    We close with one last point. Amici supporting Luna
Vanegas charge that siding with Signet here means every opt-
in plaintiff must serve a defendant under Rule 4. Not so. Any
plaintiff whose claim falls within the specific jurisdiction of a
Wisconsin state court may join the case under Rule 5, since the
district court already wields that much jurisdiction over Sig-
net. Fischer, 

. It is only if the plaintiffs wish to
expand the court’s jurisdiction that anyone need go back to
the Rule 4 well.
                        III. Conclusion
    BMS teaches that a court must establish its jurisdiction
over claims one at a time. The FLSA does not mark an excep-
tion to that rule, and neither does any loophole in Rule 4.
                                     REVERSED AND REMANDED.
No. 23-2964                                                  21

    ROVNER, Circuit Judge, dissenting. When Congress enacted
the Fair Labor Standards Act (“FLSA”), it wanted a level play-
ing field between employers and employees. With today’s
holding, that level playing field is now gone, and employers
have the advantage once again. I worry for the workers the
FLSA was meant to protect—those who, by the very nature of
their allegations, will almost certainly be unable to pursue re-
lief on their own, and who rely on the collective action mech-
anism to have their rights vindicated at all. That these indi-
viduals may pursue their claims collectively either in the fo-
rum most convenient to their employer or in multiple unsyn-
chronized suits scattered across the country is a hollow com-
fort. Indeed, these workers, whose claims allege that they
have been undercompensated, will need to expend resources
into a litigation perhaps hundreds or thousands of miles
away, should they wish to proceed as a collective with opt-ins
from multiple states. Yes, their rights have not been totally
abolished, but they have been severely hindered for an out-
come not required by statute, the Supreme Court, or personal
jurisdiction jurisprudence.
    Federal courts need not re-establish personal jurisdiction
over opt-in FLSA collective action members. To understand
why, one must begin from the beginning, with the purposes
of personal jurisdiction and the FLSA.
    Personal jurisdiction operates to protect states and de-
fendants from exercises of foreign states’ “coercive power.”
See Goodyear Dunlop Tires Operations, S.A. v. Brown, 

, 918–19 (2011). Each state is its own sovereign, and when
one state attempts to act beyond its borders, it interferes with
the sovereignty of other states. World-Wide Volkswagen Corp. v.
Woodson, 

 (1980). This is not an absolute
22                                                    No. 23-2964

restriction; states may exercise their power over foreign de-
fendants. But when a state court seeks to do so, it must first
evaluate whether the defendant would be inconvenienced by
“practical problems resulting from the litigation,” whether
the exercise complies with “traditional notions of fair play
and substantial justice,” and whether it has a “legitimate in-
terest in the claims in question.” Bristol-Myers Squibb Co. v. Su-
perior Ct. of California, San Francisco Cnty., 

(2017) (“BMS”); Int'l Shoe Co. v. State of Wash., Off. of Unem-
ployment Comp. & Placement, 

 (1945) (quoting
Milliken v. Meyer, 

, (1940).. These limits re-
strict state courts’ exercise of personal jurisdiction to protect
the federalism and due process interests that an exercise of
the state’s coercive power can implicate.
    When a federal court exercises personal jurisdiction, the
equation is different because the same concerns are not impli-
cated. Indeed, the United States is its own entity for jurisdic-
tional purposes, with “its own direct relationship, its own
privity, its own set of mutual rights and obligations to the
people who sustain it and are governed by it.” J. McIntyre
Mach., Ltd. v. Nicastro, 

 (2011). The conse-
quences of these differences are not merely theoretical. For ex-
ample, federal courts are not cabined by state lines the way
that state courts are. See Fed. R. Civ. P. 4(k)(1)(B) (establishing
jurisdiction over a joined party served within 100 miles of the
issuance of the summons). So, in both motivation and prac-
tice, personal jurisdiction does not restrict federal courts the
same way that it contains state courts.
    The Federal Rules of Civil Procedure tie personal jurisdic-
tion to the service of summons, Fed. R. Civ. P. 4(k)(1), which
must happen within 90 days after the complaint is filed. Fed.
No. 23-2964                                                      23

R. Civ. P. 4(m). See also Fed. R. Civ. P. 4(c)(1) (“A summons
must be served with a copy of the complaint.”). Thus, it is up
to the party filing the complaint to effectively serve the de-
fendant and establish the federal court’s personal jurisdiction.
    With the principles of personal jurisdiction established,
we turn to the FLSA. Here, background will contextualize the
statute’s principles and mechanisms. In 1938, Congress
passed the FLSA to protect workers. Its purpose was simple:
to protect workers from unfair employer practices, like failing
to properly compensate workers for overtime work (i.e., work
done in excess of 40 hours per week). 

, 207(a).
Congress saw these failures as national in scope, spreading
their nefarious effects and labor conditions “among the work-
ers of the several States.” 

 at § 202(a). Originally, the statute
allowed suits by employees “for and in behalf of himself or
themselves and other employees similarly situated” or, in the
alternative, an “agent or representative” could bring suit on
behalf of affected employees. Knepper v. Rite Aid Corp., 

 (3d Cir. 2012) (quoting Fair Labor Standards Act
of 1938, ch. 676, 

 at 1069 (current version at 29
U.S.C. §§ 201–219)).
   In 1946, the Supreme Court held that time spent by an
employee walking to his or her station on the employer’s
premises was compensable under the FLSA. Anderson v. Mt.
Clemens Pottery Co., 

 (1946). This resulted in
an explosion of litigation, mostly filed by unions as the “agent
or representative” of the affected employees. Knepper, 675
F.3d at 255–56. Congress was troubled by the excessive and
“champertous” litigation (i.e., litigation brought by unions,
not the parties in interest), and it enacted the Portal-to-Portal
Act of 1947. Id. at 255. As a result, only plaintiffs who had a
24                                                             No. 23-2964

personal interest in the litigation could bring suit on behalf of
themselves and others, not unions or other “representatives.”
Hoffmann–La Roche, Inc. v. Sperling, 

 (1989).
    In addition to limiting suits to only the parties in interest,
the Portal-to-Portal Act also sought to eliminate the possibil-
ity of “one-way intervention.” Under one-way intervention,
because the named plaintiff brought suit on behalf of simi-
larly situated workers, those similarly situated workers could
wait to join the suit until after a favorable final judgment had
been reached. See Pentland v. Dravo Corp., 

 (3d
Cir. 1945). In response, Congress added the “opt in” provision
of the FLSA. 1 Under this provision, a similarly situated em-
ployee joins the suit by giving his or her “consent in writing”
and filing “such consent in the court in which” the FLSA ac-
tion is brought. 

(b). These consents are sent un-
der Rule 5 and, notably, there is no requirement that the com-
plaint be amended to add the opt-in plaintiff’s name, nor does
the opt-in plaintiff have to serve the complaint on the defend-
ant. See 

 This makes sense, as the opt-in plaintiff wishes to
assert the same rights as the named plaintiff. And this stream-
lined process upholds the FLSA’s goals of “enforcement and
efficiency: enforcement of the FLSA, by preventing violations
of the overtime-pay requirements and by enabling employees
to pool resources when seeking redress for violations; and ef-
ficiency in the resolution of disputes, by resolving in a single


     1 The majority argues that this revision demonstrates Congress’s in-

tent to make opt-in plaintiffs “true parties the moment they join the case.”
It is not clear why forcing parties to join an action earlier would make them
“true parties the moment they join the case.” If anything, it demonstrates
that once a plaintiff joins the collective, he or she irrevocably binds his or
her interests with the interests of the collective.
No. 23-2964                                                    25

action common issues arising from the same alleged illegal
activity.” Bigger v. Facebook, Inc., 

 (7th Cir.
2020).
    In light of the FLSA’s twin goals of enforcement and effi-
ciency, and the principles of federalism and due process that
underpin personal jurisdiction, it is unsurprising that for al-
most 80 years no court questioned whether opt-in plaintiffs
needed to individually establish personal jurisdiction over
the defendant. Requiring that opt-in plaintiffs make that
showing hinders enforcement of the statute by making it
harder for similarly-situated plaintiffs to bring suit and hin-
ders efficiency by requiring defendants to defend multiple
suits addressing the same claim. Similarly, suits brought in
federal court do not implicate federalism because those suits
do not infringe on state sovereignty, and they do not deprive
defendants of due process. Indeed, if the named plaintiff es-
tablishes personal jurisdiction, then the defendant will face
the FLSA suit in the federal court where the plaintiff brought
suit, regardless of whether other employees opt in. To put it
simply, allowing collective action members who cannot inde-
pendently establish personal jurisdiction to opt in does not
implicate any of the concerns personal jurisdiction is meant to
protect. And requiring such a showing stymies the goals of
the FLSA.
    BMS did not change the interests that underlie personal
jurisdiction, nor did it change the personal jurisdiction analy-
sis for FLSA litigants.
   As an initial matter, BMS itself disclaimed the possibility
that it was effectuating the sea change proposed by my col-
leagues in this case. Indeed, the opinion was a “straightfor-
ward application … of settled principles of personal
26                                                            No. 23-2964

jurisdiction.” BMS, 

. And, moreover, it ex-
pressly excepted from its holding exercises of personal juris-
diction made by federal courts under the Fifth Amendment.

 As the amici in this case—including the eminent Professor
Arthur Miller, the “Miller” of the Wright & Miller treatise
cited extensively by the majority—artfully point out, absent
some specific direction otherwise, it is the Fifth Amendment
that governs federal court jurisdiction, not the Fourteenth
Amendment. R. 21, at 7–10, 13.
    But even beyond BMS’s stated limits, the underpinning
logic of the decision is inapplicable to collective actions. BMS
involved a California mass action in which mostly out-of-state
plaintiffs sued a defendant that had few business ties to Cali-
fornia under California state law. 

. California claimed
that it had personal jurisdiction because of a “sliding scale”
approach. 

. This is the “loose and spurious” exercise
of jurisdiction that the Supreme Court disapproved of, not the
almost century-long practice of evaluating personal jurisdic-
tion against named collective action members. 2 Id.at 264. The
Supreme Court explained that allowing California to exercise
personal jurisdiction under the circumstances of the case
would violate the delicate balance of federalism among the
states. 

.



     2 This is not to say that a longstanding practice is insulated from re-

view, or that courts should “craft jurisdictional rules to prop up existing
practices.” If, however, a practice is longstanding, supported by the text,
history, and purpose of the relevant statute, and not contrary to relevant
legal principles or the interests those principles are meant to protect, then
the claim that a Supreme Court decision mandates the abandonment of
that practice should be examined with the greatest possible caution.
No. 23-2964                                                      27

    As discussed above, federalism is not a concern among the
various federal courts. Nor is forum shopping at the expense
of another state’s sovereignty which, the Supreme Court has
since explained, was a concern animating the BMS decision.
See Ford Motor Co. v. Montana Eighth Jud. Dist. Ct., 

,
369–70 (2021).
    But even under a due process lens, the potential harm to
Bristol Myers-Squibb cannot be analogized to any harm that
could befall Signet. Had the Supreme Court not intervened,
Bristol Myers-Squibb would have faced suit in California un-
der California law. BMS, 

. Indeed, the Supreme
Court has already recognized a concern that such exercises of
state law could punish defendants for conduct that is legal
where it occurs. State Farm Mutual Automobile Ins. Co. v. Camp-
bell, 

, 421–22 (2003). Signet, by contrast, will be
subject to the same law (the FLSA) no matter where it faces
suit. It is telling that neither the majority nor Signet articulates
what harm, injustice, or even inconvenience Signet faces.
    There is another issue with the analogy, and that is the dis-
tinction between a California mass action and an FLSA collec-
tive action. The majority goes to great lengths to distinguish a
class action from a collective action, arguing that because class
and collective actions are distinct, opt-in plaintiffs must there-
fore demonstrate personal jurisdiction. But the first part of
this hypothesis does not beget the second, and procedural
mechanisms do not exist on a continuum with the California
mass action statute on one end and Rule 23 class actions on
the other. Nor have we held that class actions are the only
procedural mechanism for which absent members are re-
lieved of the duty to demonstrate individualized personal ju-
risdiction. But even accepting the premise as true that
28                                                  No. 23-2964

collective and class actions are wholly distinct procedural
mechanisms—which, for reasons discussed below, they are
not—these differences should only matter to the personal ju-
risdiction analysis if they implicate the purposes of the FLSA
or personal jurisdiction, or if they implicate the reasons the
Supreme Court gave for reversing the California court in
BMS. Indeed, the Supreme Court has instructed that the
FLSA’s remedial purposes should be enforced to the full ex-
tent of the statute’s terms. Hoffmann-La Roche Inc., 

.
     An opt-in plaintiff is not differently situated toward the
litigation in a way that implicates jurisdiction when
compared to a Rule 23 plaintiff. Let us go difference-by-
difference to explore why. The majority argues that there is
no assurance of adequacy, predominance, or superiority in a
collective action. This totally ignores this court’s stated view
that “there isn't a good reason to have different standards for
the certification of the two different types of action.”
Espenscheid v. DirectSat USA, LLC, 

 (7th Cir.
2013). To the extent that the majority attempts to compare an
opt-in plaintiff’s filing of consent to a motion for class
certification under Rule 23, this comparison ignores the fact
that it is upon the defendant’s motion for decertification that
the court conducts its analysis into whether the opt-ins are
similarly situated. See Campbell v. City of Los Angeles, 

 (9th Cir. 2018) (collecting cases and noting “The
two-step approach has been endorsed by every circuit that
has considered it.”). The decertification motion comes after
discovery, much like the typical motion for class certification
under Rule 23. And even though named plaintiffs and class
counsel in a class action must demonstrate their adequacy
through Rule 23(a), both the named plaintiffs and counsel
No. 23-2964                                                    29

must also demonstrate adequacy to earn opt-in plaintiffs in
an FLSA collective action. See Harkins v. Riverboat Servs., Inc.,

 (7th Cir. 2004) (if the opt-in plaintiff “is
distrustful of the capacity of the ‘class’ counsel to win a
judgment he won't consent to join the suit”); 

(b)
(limiting collective actions to those “similarly situated” with
the named plaintiff). The majority points out that absent
collective action members can be present in court and hire
their own attorneys, but so can class action members. Fed. R.
Civ. P. 23(c)(2)(B)(iv). The majority points out that the statute
of limitations begins tolling after the opt-in plaintiff files
consent, but this does not demonstrate individualized control
of the litigation after the individual opts in. Indeed, once the
individual opts in, his or her claim becomes part of the
broader collective, much like a class action. See Smith v. Prof’l.
Trans., Inc., 

 (7th Cir. 2021) (quoting Harkins,

). The majority correctly points out that the
opt-in mechanism means opt-in collective action members are
not anonymous, quoting Anderson v. Montgomery Ward & Co.,

 (7th Cir. 1988). Indeed, opt-in members
sign consent forms with their names and file those consent
forms in court. As Anderson rightly notes, the purpose of this
provision is not to preserve individualized control of the
litigation, but to ensure that employees—not unions—are
driving the litigation. See Anderson, 

 (citing
Arrington v. Nat’l. Broad. Co., 

 (D.D.C.
1982)). Indeed, “[t]he written consent forms assure the court
that the signers ‘want to have their rights adjudicated in [a
collective] proceeding or be represented by counsel chosen by
other plaintiffs.’” Smith, 

 (quoting Harkins, 

) (alteration in original). To the extent that the
majority opinion implies that filing consent makes an opt-in
30                                                   No. 23-2964

plaintiff a named party to the suit, that is incorrect. The FLSA
statute itself distinguishes between named plaintiffs and opt-
ins. 

. One could argue that the very act of
“opting in” reflects more participation in the litigation, thus
requiring an individualized personal jurisdiction analysis.
But no difference exists between a collective action member
who opts in and a Rule 23 class action member who declines
to opt out. Both will use the resources of a court to which he
or she would not otherwise have access as a result of his or
her choice to use a procedural mechanism to pursue relief
under the same complaint as part of a group of similarly-
situated individuals.
    Much seems to revolve around the assertion that collective
action members can seemingly assert their own claims such
that no two opt-in plaintiffs would have the same case. The
majority argues that collective action members are called
“party plaintiffs” in the FLSA statute and are therefore similar
to the plaintiffs in a California mass action. But in light of the
statutory history, it makes sense that Congress would call opt-
in members “party plaintiffs.” It wished to distinguish them
from unions, who would not otherwise be parties to the suit.
Even absent this history, the Supreme Court instructs that
“party” is not “an absolute characteristic.” Devlin v.
Scardelletti, 

 (2002). Its meaning can vary based
on context. 

 But even so, calling FLSA opt-in members
“party plaintiffs” does not make them synonymous with the
California mass action members. In BMS the procedural
mechanism permitted the re-dispersal of the individual suits
after the common questions were resolved. See Mussat v.
IQVIA, Inc., 

 (7th Cir. 2020) (comparing the
mass action statute to the federal multi-district litigation stat-
ute, 

, which authorizes “coordinated or
No. 23-2964                                                     31

consolidated pretrial proceedings”). While the disparate
claims in a California mass action may be tried together, a sin-
gular trial is not required, or even presupposed. McGhan Med.
Corp. v. Superior Ct., 

 (Cal. Ct. App.
1992) (“That these [California mass action] cases may be coor-
dinated does not mean they need be tried in one forum; it
does not even indicate that ultimate trial of the cases need be
unified.”). By contrast, in FLSA collective actions the claims
of all plaintiffs who have opted in are resolved together in a
final judgment. See Hoffmann-La Roche Inc., 

(noting that the collective action mechanism creates a single
action for multiple plaintiffs). And this procedural distinction
aligns with the dissimilar structures of the suits. Under the
California mass action procedure, plaintiffs file their own
complaints, which are later consolidated. See e.g., BMS, 

 (plaintiffs filed eight separate complaints in Califor-
nia Superior Court). Collective actions under the FLSA, just
like class actions under Rule 23, begin as one suit under one
common complaint alleging the same common claim, and
continue under that same complaint until either final judg-
ment or until the court determines that the plaintiffs are too
heterogeneous to proceed together. See Hoffmann-La Roche
Inc., 

.
    And, in any event, this ignores the level of individuality
permitted in class actions. Class action plaintiffs can also
bring individualized claims. Indeed, this court has approved
of the use of subclasses when faced with a breach-of-warranty
class action that had material differences in circumstances
with respect to the product at issue. Butler v. Sears, Roebuck &
Co., 

 (7th Cir. 2013); see also Alvarez v. City of
Chicago, 

, 448–49 (7th Cir. 2010) (permitting
32                                                             No. 23-2964

subclasses in an FLSA collective action). 3 And separately,
class action members can be subject to individualized de-
fenses. 2 William B. Rubenstein, Newberg and Rubenstein on
Class Actions § 4:55 (6th ed. 2024).
    Despite the lack of difference between collective and class
actions, the FLSA itself prohibits differences that would affect
a defendant’s due process rights or inhibit efficient resolution.
If an opt-in plaintiff’s FLSA claim is materially distinct from
Luna Vanegas’s claim, then that opt-in plaintiff is not simi-
larly situated to Luna Vanegas. Indeed, that would be a situ-
ation in which the collective action members are “hopelessly
heterogenous” from each other and decertification would be
appropriate. See Jonites v. Exelon Corp., 

, 725–26
(7th Cir. 2008). In short, FLSA opt-in plaintiffs are no more
individualized than their Rule 23 counterparts, and both sets


     3 The majority implies that the use of subclasses in FLSA collective

actions somehow likens those actions to separately filed suits that are con-
solidated under the California mass action statute, citing Alvarez, 

. But the use of subclasses is procedurally distinct from the consoli-
dation of separately filed suits. Indeed, subclasses are not separate actions,
they are groups of homogenous individuals under the same complaint al-
leging the same violation of the FLSA. To the extent the majority’s refer-
ence relies on Alvarez’s use of the terminology of “subclaim,” that reliance
is misplaced. Indeed, Alvarez involved ten subclaims, but many more in-
dividuals, further illustrating that “claims” are representative in the FLSA
context. See 

; Caraballo v. City of Chicago, 

, at *2
(N.D. Ill. Mar. 18, 2009) (district court opinion reversed by Alvarez, 

). Finally, I will note that the primary question in Alvarez, an
FLSA case, was whether the use of subclasses meant that individual ques-
tions would predominate over common questions. 

 This question, of
course, is taken directly from the class action context, further supporting
the inference that class and collective actions operate similarly. Fed. R.
Civ. P. 23(b)(3).
No. 23-2964                                                  33

of plaintiffs lack the markers of individuality that warranted
judicial intervention in BMS.
    The majority opinion does not contend with this core
shortcoming. Even though some differences do exist between
collective and class actions—although those differences are
more limited than the majority opinion claims—none of those
differences trigger an obligation for opt-in plaintiffs to
demonstrate personal jurisdiction because they do not
implicate the interests that personal jurisdiction is designed
to protect. BMS may have spurred a newfound interest in the
personal jurisdiction of unnamed parties seven years ago, but
it cannot control our outcome here. The procedural
mechanisms—one which gathers separately filed suits for
some purposes, and one which consolidates plaintiffs into one
suit until final judgment—are too distinct for neat application,
and the federalism concerns are irrelevant in federal court.
And in the absence of controlling Supreme Court precedent,
we look to the statute. We examine its text—which requires
only consent, not a summons or complaint. We review its
history—which supports nationwide collective actions. And
we recall its purpose—to protect workers from the illegal
actions of their employers and level the playing field so that
they may meaningfully assert their rights.
    There also seems to be an underlying concern that if out-
of-state collective action members are permitted to opt in to
collective actions, they may pursue claims (e.g., state law
claims) against the employer that they would not be able to
otherwise. But just as the FLSA does not require a showing of
personal jurisdiction, it also does not waive jurisdictional re-
quirements as to other claims. When other claims are brought
in conjunction with FLSA claims, they are analyzed
34                                                    No. 23-2964

separately and certified under Rule 23, not the FLSA. See e.g.,
Tyson Foods, Inc. v. Bouaphakeo, 

, 448–49 (2016).
    Separately, the majority applies a new rule to FLSA opt-in
plaintiffs today when it requires opt-ins to serve summons “if
their claims do not arise out of or relate to the defendant’s
minimum contacts with the forum state.” The majority claims
that it is simply applying settled law to a new circumstance
and draws a comparison between an opt-in plaintiff and a
plaintiff who wishes to add a new, substantively unrelated
claim to an existing suit, citing Wright & Miller. But as dis-
cussed above, the FLSA statute forecloses the possibility that
the claim of an opt-in plaintiff is materially distinct from the
named plaintiff’s claim because the opt-in plaintiff must be
“similarly situated” to the named plaintiff. 

(b).
In any event, it is not clear how this new application will in-
teract with Rule 4(m)—which requires service of summons
within 90 days of filing the complaint. Moreover, the FLSA
requires that an opt-in plaintiff do nothing more than file his
or her consent to join the collective. 

(b) (an in-
dividual opts in when “he gives his consent in writing to be-
come such a party and such consent is filed in the court in
which such action is brought”). It is vital to understand that
the majority’s rule directly conflicts with both the text of the
statute and its underlying principles. With respect, I would
suggest that if we must disregard the text, history, and pur-
pose of a statute to arrive at a particular outcome, then per-
haps the outcome is incorrect.
    Today’s decision betrays the very purposes of the FLSA,
both for plaintiffs and defendants. FLSA plaintiffs will now
be required to bring suit in only limited jurisdictions, and may
struggle to bring suit at all. If plaintiffs are able to proceed in
No. 23-2964                                                                  35

separate forums, Signet may be subject to identical suits, chal-
lenging the same practice, alleging the same injury, in multi-
ple courts. This is, of course, the very type of increased litiga-
tion that the FLSA sought to minimize by allowing collective
actions. See De Asencio v. Tyson Foods, Inc., 

(3d Cir. 2003), as amended (Nov. 14, 2003). And notably, un-
like BMS, the same governing law—the FLSA—will be ap-
plied to each claim. And separately, Signet may become sub-
ject to different, and perhaps incompatible, judicial holdings
resulting from these suits in many forums. That Signet has
asked and, today, received, our permission to create ineffi-
ciency not just for itself, but for other smaller, less successful
corporations and district court judges who will now be faced
with perhaps hundreds—or possibly even thousands—of
mini trials just on the question of personal jurisdiction, 4
should only make us ask why Signet desires such an outcome,
particularly in the absence of an articulated injury. The an-
swer, of course, is in the first paragraph of this dissent. The
level playing field, which Congress carefully constructed, is
now gone.




    4 The majority claims that under this dissent’s “rule,” thousands of

mini trials will occur. I submit that is not accurate. Indeed, as noted above,
it is the majority’s rule that will cause such mini trials to occur. To the
extent this dissent puts forth a “rule” it is only that personal jurisdiction
should be evaluated against the named plaintiff of an FLSA collective ac-
tion. By contrast, the majority’s rule will result in opt-in specific challenges
to personal jurisdiction. The district court will then have to evaluate each
challenge, opt-in by opt-in. Those evaluations might be difficult, and they
might require evidence or testimony to adjudicate. It is this individualized
personal jurisdiction inquiry that results in thousands of mini trials.
36                                                No. 23-2964

    In our holding today, we betray the purposes of the FLSA
for an outcome not mandated, or even encouraged, by the Su-
preme Court or personal jurisdiction law.
     For these reasons, I respectfully dissent.