When is it okay to tell a white lie? Rank these scenarios from most to least justifiable.

Your mate has just walked in with a haircut that looks like it was done by a blindfolded apprentice. Telling them they look great feels kinder than watching their confidence crumble on a Tuesday morning.

Your colleague keeps inviting you round for tea and you simply cannot face another evening of overcooked pasta and competitive chat about their allotment. A small fib about already having eaten feels like harm reduction for everyone.

Every December, parents across the UK maintain an elaborate fiction involving a rotund man, reindeer, and a logistically impossible overnight delivery service. Most people turned out fine — probably.

When the mental load gets too heavy and you genuinely need a day to decompress, some argue a tactical illness is a white lie in service of genuine wellbeing. Your boss doesn't need the full picture.

Aunt Sandra has gifted you something baffling for the third year running and your face must do the impossible: radiate gratitude. The alternative — honesty — seems both brave and catastrophically impolite.