WHEN I was a journalist working on a local newspaper I received an invitation to lunch with a pretty well-known local businessman at an entertainment venue he had built and which he planned to make a significant attraction for tourists and visitors to the area.

When I arrived, I found I was not alone. In fact every newspaper from the wider area was represented, as well as other media outlets such as radio and local magazines.

It soon became apparent that we were not there to celebrate the success of the project, nor to raise a glass to toast the huge impact it was forecast to have on the local economy. In fact, the event was staged to hold a briefing confirming local gossip that the project was not going quite as had been planned.

There had been significant problems with the build and with the planning which would delay the completion and the opening. Our host had invited us there so that he could talk honestly “off the record” about the problems, which he assured us would not threaten the project’s future or its albeit delayed completion.

Had the businessman staged the lunch with the express intention of keeping the story of the problems out of the local media it had certainly worked. None of the media outlets present carried the full story, no doubt feeling themselves bound by the off-the-record code.

WATCH: Glaswegians give their verdict on Boris Johnson's Christmas party scandal

I felt uncomfortable at the time. Had a reporter been tipped off by a source about the problems at the venue they would almost certainly have written a story which would almost certainly have appeared on the front page.

But because the details had been literally served up to them on a plate “off the record” no-one wrote anything.

None of us had been asked in advance if, by attending the lunch, we agreed to adhere to rules which would be gently explained to us over the starter. None of us was asked if they agreed to keep secret whatever was said. It was simply assumed – correctly as it happened – that we would stick to a mutual understanding that whatever was not for public consumption.

I thought a lot about that story a number of years later, when as editor of a newspaper I asked a reporter to contact a local politician for a quote on a public sexual assault on a woman in the area he represented. In the early minutes of the conversation the politician said the area was known to be frequented by prostitutes, before going on to give his quote.

The conversation posed some interesting moral questions. At no time did the politician suggest his conversation with the reporter was off the record. Even if he had made that suggestion there would have been an argument that the public had a right to know he had made those comments.

I’m not convinced that anyone has the right to make sure their conversation with a journalist goes unreported simply by asserting that they want to go off the record.

Women’s organisations were appalled at the comments when we reported them but they were not the only people who were angry. Some political reporters argued that we had broken some sort of code between politicians and journalists, suggesting we should have known the controversial comment was not meant to be used in our report even if the politician had not used the phrase “off the record”.

It seems to me then – and still does today – that this suggested a relationship between the media and the political world which was dangerously cosy. It assumed it was part of a reporter’s job to protect politicians from themselves and edit out opinions which might attract criticism. It accepted there was a “gentlemen’s agreement” that politicians could assume that whatever they said to a reporter would not be reported unless some signal had been given that the conversation had moved from off to on the record.

I’M thinking all this over after reading reports yesterday that Boris Johnson’s former chief adviser Dominic Cummings claimed on Twitter that some journalists had attended the now infamous parties at Number 10 and were trying to bury the story.

​READ MORE: Nicola Sturgeon: 'Boris Johnson not being truthful about No10 Christmas parties'

Now I have no idea whether there is any truth in such allegations but I think they are serious enough to warrant a response. I don’t believe we should hold “witch trials” during which every journalist who refuses to confirm ether they were or were not present at the parties should automatically be assumed guilty.

On the other hand, I do think readers and viewers have a right to know if journalists from particular newspapers or TV news programmes were present, and if they were why did they not write about it?

There are plenty of worrying aspects of the Downing Street parties – not least why those present believed the rules about isolation and Covid restrictions applied to everyone else but not to them. It’s also concerning that the response in some quarters to the allegations has been somewhat less than rigorous.

Metropolitan police chief Cressida Dick in particular failed to cover herself in glory during an evasive radio interview at the end of last week in which she suggested she could not investigate the party allegations because she had received no complaints about them.

What would happen if she did receive a letter of complaint? She replied: “I’d read it.” Good to know.

It’s hard to imagine any other allegations of criminality being treated in such a relaxed manner, which makes it hard to accept Dick’s insistence: “This is the Met. We are professional. We are impartial.” Ahem.

Nor is the leader of the opposition properly piling the pressure on a prime minister who is now clearly reviled throughout the country as a Prime Minister unable to comb his hair never mind run the country.

The befuddled buffoon trick is wearing thin for those who suffered real pain and trauma through the pandemic restrictions only to have the political classes make them feel like mugs for believing the rules had been imposed for the common good.

Only SNP Westminster leader Ian Blackford could summon the required fury to nail Boris Johnson’s hypocritical arrogance at yesterday’s Prime Minister’s Questions.

When the official Westminster opposition don’t understand the importance of conveying the anger of the public to the Prime Minister and the police hide behind semantics rather than act in the interests of justice it’s even more important that the media plays its role in the democratic process by holding power to account rather than sharing cocktails with friends in high places.

​READ MORE: Douglas Ross says Boris Johnson cannot stay as PM if he misled Commons

WHEN you live and work in the political bubble you need to be wary of becoming too close. It can be seductive. You can be sucked in before you realise it. You can be corrupted by close contact by those whose aim is to hinder you doing your job rather help. Corrupted? What other word would you use to describe reporters hobnobbing with those in government while turning a blind eye to the fact they are all at event clearly in breach of essential rules designed to protect us all?

Fly too close to the sun and you can no longer do your job. When I decided to stand as an SNP candidate I stood down from editing the Sunday National. I still believe those two jobs are not compatible.

Whether Cummings’s accusations about those on the Downing Street party guest lists are true or not they are a necessary red light, warning us to beware invitations to free drinks with powerful pals. Too many can only encourage you to identify as part of the ruling class, rather than as one of those who rely on you to tell what you know to be the truth – no matter what the consequences.