It was like something out of E.T.

A big orange plastic bag had been taped over her computer (monitor and all!) in the hours before she got to work.

It was sealed and looked like it belonged at Guantanamo Bay. She would not be logging on today.

She had been accused of "leaking" information that the Northern Territory Government's power utility had been paying the electricity bills for the controversial McArthur River mine in the Gulf of Carpentaria - to the tune of $100 million.

It was never proven who disclosed the "leak" but it's true there was a whistleblower who was compelled to act. It's also true that the actual whistleblower was glad they did what they did - exposing maladministration in public office.

The problem wasn't necessarily that the Territory was paying a company's power bill - tax concessions and grants are often used to attract investment. The issue was that it was being done in secret - with taxpayers' money, but without taxpayers knowing.

The woman accused had to leave town, her career in public service over. Because somebody had stood up for the public's right to know.

Not long after I arrived in Wollongong I answered a call and it was a senior detective from the NT Police.

Several weeks earlier, at a Darwin newspaper (yes, that one), I had learned the NT government was considering introducing licensing for boats. So I asked a government media adviser to confirm it, and explain. He wouldn't - it was deny, deny, deny.

The police officer wanted to know why I'd been asking about boat licensing. Who had told me, and how did I find out?

I told the officer I would not help, and I hoped they never found the source, and wished her a good day.

To recap: rather than comment honestly, and allow public debate about a legitimate policy issue (should boats be licensed) the government went into silent mode, and called the cops to find the leak.

Uncovering these questions on behalf of the public's need for information is the point of the media - and the Your Right to Know campaign.

As The Canberra Times pointed out recently, there's a difference between "official secrets" and "officials' secrets".

Too often these days, governments treat them the same. That is, matters which a government thinks might embarrass it, or its policies, are treated like they must be secret.

Recently we've had the issue of combustible cladding on residential buildings, schools and, as the Newcastle Herald reported, defence buildings.

The St George & Sutherland Shire Leader reported there were 44 properties on the Georges River council's register of potentially dangerous buildings.

The Border Mail has reported on it being removed from a local school.

Elsewhere homebuyers have been warned to do their homework on cladding before buying off the plan.

In Wollongong the initial figure was 58 buildings but may now be considerably lower - but getting reliable information has proven difficult to say the least.

This is because the NSW Government has decided the register of buildings with the flammable cladding should not be released. They rejected my GIPA (Freedom of Information) request for the information, saying there was a risk of arson or terror attacks (as well as a risk to property prices).

This secrecy is beyond a joke. The government wants to control the information flow to coincide with its own action plans - so acts like it owns the knowledge. In the meantime, the public isn't allowed to know which buildings are a fire risk.

We don't all have to agree on whether a particular political outcome is the best. But if we can't debate it in public - before governments make decisions - how can we call it democracy?

For more information on press freedom, whistleblower protection and the pitfalls of an obsession with secrecy, get involved: via the Your Right to Know website.

Ben Langford

Senior journalist, Illawarra Mercury