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Most newspaper confession columns are completely phoney, including my own. I do have a juicy secret and I'm sure you would like to hear about it—except there's no way in the world I'm going to reveal it here

By Lucy Kellaway   March 2007

I have something to confess. My confession is quite juicy and I’m confident that any averagely prurient reader would like to read it.

There are three criteria for a good media confession, and mine meets all of them. First, it breaks a couple of taboos. Second, it is embarrassing in many of its details. And third, it shows me in an unflattering light.

For these reasons, I am going to keep quiet. I have absolutely no intention of making any such confession here, in the pages of Prospect. I have told my shameful tale to a tiny handful of intimates,…

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