Confidentiality: why we keep no client names
We keep no names because anything that is archived can leak one day: through a mistake, through a cyber attack, through someone who leaves with a copy, or through an heir who opens a folder years later. At Lex Fati there is no client file, no list of references and no full names saved on our phones; apart from what invoicing rules require us to keep, we hold no record with your name on it. The only list that cannot leak is the one that does not exist. That decision has very concrete consequences, and it also gives you a yardstick for asking any professional what they keep about you.
In brief
- Any file can one day reach hands nobody chose: a wrong recipient, an intruder, a former colleague, an heir.
- Protecting a file reduces the risk; not having one removes it, which is why we work without a client file, a secretary or a list of references.
- That decision has a price we accept: we show no testimonials and confirm to no private person that you have consulted us.
- You can ask any professional who will know your name, what they keep about you, where, for how long and what becomes of it when they retire.
- The other half of discretion is yours: your diary, your email, your phone, your payments and the number of people you choose to tell.
In this article
- Any file can end up with a reader nobody chose
- Isn’t it enough to protect data properly?
- What changes in practice when there is no file
- What does it cost to work without records?
- Presenting your situation with the bare minimum
- What can you ask any professional about confidentiality?
- How can you stay discreet yourself?
- Who should you tell, and how much?
- Frequently asked questions
Any file can end up with a reader nobody chose
Whoever keeps a document thinks about who ought to read it. Hardly anyone thinks about who will. Between the day a record is created and the day it is destroyed, if that day ever comes, years go by, and people and machines nobody foresaw come into contact with it. Leaks rarely begin with bad intent. They begin with a folder that still exists.
The first route is error. An email goes to the wrong person because the software completed the address; a phone is left in a taxi; a shared document sits behind a link anyone can open; an office photocopier keeps on its hard drive whatever it has copied. Nobody wanted any of it, and what ends up exposed is exactly the same as if somebody had.
The second is attack. A small practice does not have a bank’s security department, and those looking for information know it. Nor does an attack need to be aimed at you: it is enough for your name to sit on a computer that someone has decided to copy, or to lock and hold to ransom. You were not the target, but your name travels with everything else.
The third is the person who leaves. The assistant who changes jobs, the partner who moves to another firm, the outside IT contractor who had access to every machine for years. Nearly all of them leave without taking anything. What they know leaves with them all the same, and sometimes so does a copy nobody remembers making.
The fourth is time, and it is the one people think about least. Whoever keeps a folder retires, moves, sells the practice or dies. The papers pass to whoever takes over, to a storage unit, to heirs who open boxes without knowing what is inside and read, with no context at all, what you said at a difficult moment in your life. A file outlives the discretion of whoever created it.
Isn’t it enough to protect data properly?
Protection reduces the risk; absence removes it. A password, encryption, a locked cabinet or a confidentiality agreement all make access harder, and wherever data exists they should be in place. But each depends on things nobody fully controls: software that needs updating, a company that runs the servers, a person who knows the password.
That is why we are wary of phrases such as “maximum security”. Whoever offers it for a file is vouching for something that is not in their hands alone: it rests on their provider, their staff, whoever takes over from them and, to some degree, on chance. We preferred to make sure the object of the risk never exists.
A word on professional secrecy. Lawyers, notaries and doctors are bound by it, and that duty is serious and backed by law. But secrecy forbids telling; it does not stop a file being lost or copied. Against indiscretion there is secrecy; against accidents, the security measures the law also requires, which reduce the risk without removing it.
Each profession keeps what its work requires. A lawyer needs a case file, because much of the work lives in that file; a notary keeps deeds because the law demands it; a doctor keeps records. Our work needs none of these, and so we can allow ourselves what they cannot: to open no file at all. We explain in a separate note where the lawyer’s work ends, and why theirs always comes before ours.
What changes in practice when there is no file
A decision like this is only worth something if you notice it day to day. These are its concrete consequences, the convenient ones and the inconvenient ones alike.
Two people, and no one in between
What you tell us is known to Tony Alcalá and Patty García, and to no one else. There is no secretary taking your messages, no assistant running the diary, no intermediary summarising your situation for someone else. Whoever answers you the first time answers you the second time too. We set out the details in our answer on who will know about your case.
This has a consequence worth knowing in advance. Each conversation stays with the person you chose, from start to finish. If they are unavailable on a given day, the conversation moves to another day rather than to someone else. It is slower, and it is deliberate.
No list, not even of references
We publish no testimonials and cite no cases, not even with the details changed. There is no list of names to show someone who hesitates, no initials on a web page, no recognisable anecdote told over dinner. What you tell us will never be used to persuade anyone else.
We neither confirm nor deny any professional relationship to any private person: not to a relative who asks, not to a journalist, not to the person who mentioned us to you. The answer is the same for everyone, and that is precisely why it says nothing. The only exception is what a court or a public authority can require by law, and your lawyer can tell you how far that goes.
As little as possible in writing
The less that is written, the less there is to lose. Messages are for arranging a conversation, agreeing a place and a time, or answering a specific question. What matters is spoken. There is no newsletter, no mailing list, nowhere your address sits alongside anyone else’s.
When a meeting is needed, the place and the time are part of the matter and are arranged with the same care as everything else. We travel wherever necessary, or receive you if you prefer, with no letterhead, no business card and no stated purpose. There is no waiting room in which to run into anyone.
A form that keeps nothing you write
The admission form does not store what you write: when you send it, a WhatsApp conversation opens directly with the person you have chosen. There is no database of applicants. Like any message, yours reaches that person’s phone together with your number and profile name, which is why a few lines are enough: what matters is said, not written.
If you would rather write from another number or under another name, you can. And if you share a computer or a browser, bear in mind that its history keeps what you send. To present your situation, a name we can address you by is enough; no surname, company, address or identity document is requested.
The exception the law imposes
There is one exception, and it is better stated than left to be guessed. Where there is work there is an invoice, and whatever invoicing rules require us to keep is kept for as long as the law says. It is an accounting document, not a case file: it does not contain what you told us. How the amount is agreed, always before anything begins, is covered on our questions page about how the work is invoiced.
What does it cost to work without records?
First, it costs us. In this field the most persuasive argument is “I have worked with someone in your situation”, and we give it up. We cannot show you anything resembling your case or put you in touch with anyone who will vouch for us. The reason is simple: if we told you another person’s case today, you would already know what we would do with yours tomorrow.
It costs you something too, and it is fair to say so. You have to form a judgement without references, from what you see and hear. Nor will we tell you whether anyone you know has consulted us: what we would not confirm to others about you, we do not confirm to you about anyone. And if one day you wish to pick up a conversation from long ago, you will need to tell us the essentials again, because there is no folder to open.
In return, some things can be checked early: that a person answers you and not a switchboard, that it is the same person in the second conversation, and that when the answer is no, you hear it plainly. Others only time can show, such as no one else ever mentioning what you said. The other signs are gathered in our note on how to recognise serious work in this field.
Presenting your situation with the bare minimum
The first contact follows the same principle. If you decide one day to present your situation to us, a few lines are enough: what it concerns, how long it has been going on and what you have already tried. Nothing more. The conversation that opens is direct, with the person you have chosen: Tony Alcalá in English or Patty García in Spanish.
We listen, assess whether we can contribute anything, and tell you yes or no, with the reason. If it is no, your name goes onto no list of enquiries or pending contacts. If it is yes, before anything starts we agree what we will do, for how long and for what amount, set once and not revised afterwards. The steps are set out in our answer on what happens before we accept a case.
If your situation still has a legal, tax or medical side that nobody has examined, we will tell you in that same conversation. Those professionals come first, and our work, if there is any, runs alongside theirs.
What can you ask any professional about confidentiality?
Confidentiality is announced with adjectives and checked with questions. The ones below work for a lawyer, an accountant, a private bank, a doctor or a practice like ours, and none of them is impolite. How the answer comes tells you as much as what it says: someone who has thought it through replies without hesitating, and a general formula usually means nobody has ever asked.
- “Who will know my name and my situation?” Actual people: the professional, their assistant, the outside IT contractor, the colleague who covers during the holidays.
- “What do you keep about me, in what form, and where?” Paper in a cabinet, an in-house server, a cloud service, somebody’s mobile phone.
- “For how long, and what happens afterwards?” A period and a procedure, not “the usual”.
- “Will you ever cite me as a reference, even without my name?” The only reassuring answer is a plain no.
- “What do you say if someone rings to ask whether I am a client?” It should be the same answer for anyone, a relative included.
- “What happens to my information if you retire, sell the practice or die?” The question almost nobody asks, and the one that reveals the most.
The last one deserves a word. Practices are sold, merged and inherited, and their archives go with them. Someone who has thought about it has an answer ready; someone who has not will discover the question on the day they can no longer answer it. Asking it is a mark of care, and a serious professional takes it as such.
There is also a legal framework worth knowing. In the European Union, and in the United Kingdom under its own version of the same rules, data protection law gives you, among other things, the right to know what personal data an organisation holds about you and to ask for it to be erased, with exceptions such as records the law requires to be kept. How far that right goes in your case, and how to exercise it, is a matter for your lawyer, who should be the first to look at it if anything sensitive is at stake.
How can you stay discreet yourself?
Part of discretion depends on no professional at all, but on you and your surroundings. The life of anyone with responsibilities is full of people and systems that see information pass by without looking for it. It is worth going through them once, calmly, and deciding what should change.
Your diary and your email
If an assistant manages your diary or the IT department administers your mailbox, whatever arrives there is no longer yours alone. For personal matters, use a personal account and a personal calendar that you share with no one and that do not sync with the company’s. An appointment entered as “meeting” in a shared diary still says where you were and when.
Your phone
Your phone is the most complete archive you carry, and the least guarded. Notifications on the lock screen, backups in a family cloud, contacts that sync with the car or with the tablet at home: each is a window. Check what the screen shows before anyone enters the code, what name each sensitive contact is saved under, and where your backups end up.
Your payments
A personal matter is paid for as a personal matter. Put it on the company card and the description passes through the accounts, the bookkeeper and whoever audits them later. How any expense should be recorded is for your tax adviser to say; what is in your hands is keeping a private matter out of channels that are not private.
Your papers, and what will remain of them
What holds for a practice holds for your home. Diaries, letters, printed emails, notes in a drawer: whatever you keep will one day be read by others, without the context you had when you wrote it. It is worth deciding, in a calm moment, what you want to remain and what you do not. Anything that matters for your estate or for records the law requires you to keep is decided with your notary or solicitor and your adviser, never on an afternoon of clearing out.
Who should you tell, and how much?
A matter is only as discreet as the least discreet person who knows about it. Everyone who is added brings their own circle: a spouse, a close friend, their own need to unburden themselves. You need not think ill of anyone to see this; it is enough to remember what you yourself have once told “just one person”.
That does not mean keeping everything to yourself. Your lawyer, your doctor and your adviser need to know what their work requires, and they are bound to keep it. Staying silent with them protects nothing and leaves you without help you are entitled to. Discretion means choosing whom to tell, not telling no one.
Nor does it mean cutting yourself off. People who run a company or live in public view often end up with very few people they can speak to freely, and that long silence weighs on decisions. We describe it in the note No one to talk to.
A working rule before confiding something sensitive: ask yourself what you actually need to say, and why. Often part of it is enough, and what is never said needs no one to keep it.
Frequently asked questions
What information does Lex Fati keep about its clients?
There is no client file. Apart from what invoicing rules require us to keep, we hold no record, no list of references and no full names saved on our phones, and the website form does not store what you write, because it opens a private conversation directly. What you tell us is known to two people, Tony Alcalá and Patty García, and it is not recorded in any file that someone else could open.
What should I ask a professional about confidentiality?
Ask who will know your name, what they keep about you, in what form and where, for how long, and what will happen to that information if they retire, sell the practice or die. Ask too whether they will ever cite you as a reference and what they say to anyone who asks about you. Precise answers come straight away; if all you hear are general formulas, the question has probably never been considered.
Can I ask for my personal data to be deleted?
In the European Union, and in the United Kingdom under equivalent rules, you can ask an organisation to tell you what personal data it holds about you and to erase it, although there are exceptions, such as records the law requires it to keep. How this applies to you and how to go about it is a matter for your lawyer. Before asking for erasure, it is worth asking what exactly is kept, and where.
Will you confirm to anyone that I have consulted you?
No. We neither confirm nor deny any professional relationship to any private person: not to a relative, not to a journalist, not to the person who mentioned us to you. The only exception is what a court or a public authority can require by law. The answer is the same for everyone else, so it reveals nothing. For the same reason we publish no testimonials and cite no cases, even with details changed, and we will not tell you who consulted us before you.
Why do you have no testimonials or references?
Because a testimonial is a name, or a recognisable story, put to work in a sale. If we used another person’s case to persuade you, you would already know what we would do with yours tomorrow. We give up the most persuasive argument in this field in exchange for something you will check for yourself over time: who answers you, and whether what you said goes any further.
Do I need to give my full name to get in touch?
No. To present your situation, a name we can address you by is enough, with a few lines on what it concerns, how long it has been going on and what you have already tried. The website does not store what you write: when you send it, a direct conversation opens with the person who will answer you. If work is later agreed, the invoice will carry the details the rules require, and no others.
If your situation requires it, present it.
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