Theresa May’s sacking of Gavin Williamson won’t stop cabinet leaks – the practice is integral to our democracy

The rules of engagement between politicians and the media are understood by everyone at Westminster

“I suppose you’re going to ask me what’s in the Budget,” the cabinet member told me. To my surprise, the minister then divulged the rabbit George Osborne would pull out of his hat the following day. It made The Independent’s splash.

The Treasury, furious that its media strategy had been wrecked by the unauthorised leak, denied my story. Then the chancellor confirmed it in his Budget statement.

My exclusive was the exception to the norm as far as Budget stories go. When I moved into the Westminster village in 1982, there were plenty of speculative pieces ahead of the event, many of which proved wrong. Genuine leaks were rare and a serious matter. Hugh Dalton resigned as chancellor in 1947 after details of his package were leaked minutes before he unveiled it.

Today, Budgets are trailed in advance – but by the Treasury itself. It’s a legacy of the media management that New Labour imported from opposition into government in 1997.

Former Treasury civil servants now admit they get the bad news out of the way several days before Budget day, often by leaking worse-than-expected figures on the public finances to the Financial Times. That clears the path for a few days of authorised leaks of Budget announcements to maximise positive media coverage.

The line between a briefing and a leak has become blurred. As Lance Price, Alastair Campbell’s deputy in the Blair era, put it: “I advise, he briefs, you leak.” He said: “The ship of state is the only ship that leaks from the top.”

So there was an element of double standards when Whitehall reacted so angrily to the leak of the decision to allow the Chinese telecoms giant Huawei to bid for non-core contracts for the UK’s 5G mobile network. The disclosure to The Daily Telegraph cost Gavin Williamson his job as defence secretary. Theresa May sacked her one-time close ally after an internal inquiry found “compelling evidence” against him. He strongly denies being the leaker.

The view of many at Westminster is that Williamson was punished so severely not for what he allegedly divulged – a public policy decision that will be announced in due course – but because of the forum where it was discussed. The National Security Council, composed of cabinet ministers and security and intelligence chiefs, is supposed to be the most secure part of the government machine.

Friends of Williamson suspect he was the victim of a “hit job” for previous leaks that damaged May but that she was unable to prove he was behind. May and Sir Mark Sedwill, the cabinet secretary and national security adviser, are both desperate to plug the unprecedented stream of leaks from cabinet meetings, many of them laying bare the deep divisions over Brexit.

May does not understand why her ministers need to talk to journalists. It is anathema to her. It is not just, as some argue, because she is a securocrat like Sedwill after six years as home secretary. She was ultra-cautious before then. I recall one social event at which a fellow hack probed further after May said she liked reading, and asked what. “I like books,” she replied.

Fortunately, May is a rare breed among politicians. Most are grown-ups and speak to journalists, and for good reason. We need each other. The exchange of information is a healthy part of our democracy.

The reporter’s job is not to be pally with the people in power but to find out what they are doing in our name. Which is precisely what the Telegraph was doing, on a very important issue.

Discussions between politicians and reporters are not underhand by nature. The one about my Budget story was unusually direct; conversations are normally conducted in code.

A journalist might say: “I have heard from others that the chancellor is going to scrap the tax on savings income. Do you think I would be safe to write that or would I look daft?” To which a politician might reply: “I think you’d be OK with that.” Or conversely: “I wouldn’t write that if I were you.”

The rules are understood by all at Westminster. Some critics argue that such “off the record” chats should not be allowed because they allow politicians to mislead, and avoid accountability. The Independent was at the forefront of reforming the system to put the twice-daily Downing Street briefings for political journalists on the record. When I arrived on the scene, we had to attribute them to “Whitehall sources”.

The fact is that people in all walks of life will be more candid in disclosing information if they can remain anonymous. That is not corrupt. It is the media’s job to cross-check what it is told with other sources and get it right.

Such conversations may be inconvenient for those at the very top, especially when the cabinet collective responsibility has collapsed as spectacularly as it has recently. If May and Sedwill think that sacking Williamson will stop the leaks, they will be very disappointed.