Why I Don’t Share Client Names in Case Studies

Introduction

“Who did you work with?” is one of the most common questions I get when publishing a legal case study. It’s understandable—we’re in a world where social proof drives trust. But here’s the truth: I deliberately choose not to name clients in my case studies. And not because I haven’t done the work or lack the results to show. I don’t disclose client names because the value lies in the solution, not in the identity.

This post explains why I take this position and why other legal professionals and consultants might benefit from doing the same. If you’re navigating professional boundaries in publishing client work, this is for you.

What Most People Get Wrong

The assumption is simple: naming big clients equals credibility. For marketers and creative agencies, that may hold true. But for lawyers, consultants, or compliance professionals, the dynamic is different.

Most people believe:

• Case studies without names aren’t trustworthy.
• Clients expect to be credited.
• Withholding names means hiding the truth.

But in regulated industries or sensitive B2B sectors, naming clients can backfire. You might breach confidentiality, unintentionally expose clients to scrutiny, or risk the trust you’ve built. And in many cases, the client simply prefers privacy, regardless of how well the outcome turned out.

My Perspective: Why I Protect Client Identity

I work with clients in sectors like legal tech, international trade, medical devices, and SaaS. These industries are often:

• Highly competitive: No company wants to signal they needed help.
• Heavily regulated: Publicizing work can raise compliance or legal risks.
• Brand-sensitive: Association with a particular challenge may damage image.

Here’s what I believe:

• The story matters more than the name. If the case study is well-written, the value is in the process, not the client logo.
• Trust is sacred. Even when clients give informal consent, I prefer not to use names unless there’s written, enthusiastic approval.
• Anonymous stories allow honesty. I can highlight internal challenges, flawed contracts, or overlooked risks—details I couldn’t share if the client were named.

I see anonymized case studies as more insightful, more ethical, and more aligned with my professional values.

Real-Life Analogy: The Doctor’s Code

Think of a doctor writing about a successful treatment. Would you trust the article more if they said the patient’s full name?

Of course not. What matters is:

• What symptoms were present?
• How was the condition diagnosed?
• What treatment strategy worked?

Legal and consulting case studies operate similarly. When I describe how a medical device exporter passed the EU MDR audit or how a SaaS company resolved a compliance issue, the insights matter more than the names. And like a good doctor, I focus on the learning, not the label.

What About Transparency?

Some might argue, “But transparency builds trust.” That’s true—but transparency isn’t the same as exposure.

You can be transparent about your process, methods, and even the results without revealing identities. For example:

• Share the industry, region, and problem.
• Include metrics and lessons.
• Be detailed in the analysis and structure.

Transparency is about clarity, not naming names. My readers want insight they can apply, not a who’s-who of my client list.

Exceptions to the Rule

There are times when naming a client makes sense:

• The client gives explicit permission in writing.
• The case study is part of a joint announcement or partnership.
• The work involved public legal proceedings or published decisions.

In those cases, naming can be powerful. But those are exceptions, not the norm.

Closing Thoughts

If you’re a lawyer, compliance expert, or B2B consultant, here’s my challenge:

What would change if you focused your case studies on insight instead of identity?

Would your content become more strategic? More respectful? More aligned with your values?

Try it.

Share a story, anonymized but rich in context, and see how it resonates.