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We received this e-mail earlier in the week:

I am getting fed up with the Ö÷²¥´óÐã and others presenting stories as news when they are not news at all. OK you may have reporters that get briefed by spin doctors in advance - but until the minister actually makes his statement it isn't news. If say, the minister changes his mind, you would then have to print a story to cover the fact that your earlier news story was incorrect. This is ridiculous. Why not present news as it happens and not guess what might happen - anyone can do that.

So what exactly is "news"? A proper full answer probably needs a spot of analysis somewhere on the scale of a PhD, so excuse me if I limit myself to a few thoughts on what this means in the world of political coverage.

Here, most stories don't just pop up out of the blue (or even red). If it's the government (or opposition come to that) making an announcement of a new policy, then that will have a context. There are two separate elements here: one is the idea of an "embargo", the other is what people often refer to as "speculation".

An embargo is usually a device of practical convenience, for instance, about when exactly an announcement is being made:
• by having an agreed time when everyone across the media can start running the story, it ensures the news-maker (eg a government department) can field their ministers in an orderly way and it's their way of trying to get the story on the appropriate outlet (ie, Sunday papers, early morning radio, etc);
• it helps the media prepare the background so they can tell their viewers and readers the story properly (in our case, for example, assemble relevant pictures, give our correspondents time to absorb and analyse the information, perhaps find effective ways of translating technical terms into more understandable language).
• from the government's point of view, an embargo is often timed because ministers are expected to announce new policies first to Parliament and there is sometimes an agreed etiquette allowing opposition parties time to prepare their response.

Sometimes, if these embargoes apply to a particularly big story, such as this week's , then it is quite right that in advance of the announcement, we should prepare the ground and the context by previewing what we expect ministers to say. So, we are seldom, if ever, "guessing". We know what the gist of the announcement contains in advance, if not always the detail and we are informing viewers and listeners what they can expect and when. I think we'd be criticised if we held that back on an important issue which has an impact on people's lives.

If the minister then does say something very different to what was expected, the likelihood is that there is a genuinely different and interesting story going on behind the scenes - eg, there's been a last minute argument between government departments over the announcement which has resulted in a rethink. In those circumstances, it would absolutely be the responsibility of our correspondents not to "correct" our earlier story, but to explain what's happening behind the scenes and why.

By "speculation", it's often implied that our correspondents are talking off the top of their heads about things which might or might not happen. While I wouldn't claim that never happens, most of the time, it means something rather different.

We employ our political correspondents - and other specialists - for their expertise and experience in the field. What some people believe is speculation is what I would term "interpretation" - the correspondents are attempting to shed light on political activity which may not be all that it seems. Behind every "public" announcement there has often been months of private discussion, conflict, lobbying, mind-changing, etc. Governments - or political parties generally - seldom make sudden changes of policy and certainly don't like to be perceived as having made "U-turns". It's often a gradual process, during which they prepare the ground, subtly change the language, soften denials, inch forward.

For them, that might be a necessary part of the political process of "testing the water", or ensuring they maintain the backing of their own supporters. An understanding of that process is part and parcel of how the story develops and it is quite right that we should try to give our audience a flavour of it to help them appreciate the context when the "news" finally pops into the public domain by official announcement.

None of this is to say that the "fed up" e-mailer above doesn't have a point. There is, for instance, a phenomenon known as "kite-flying", which politicians of all sides have been known to practice. Drop a hint in the ear of a friendly journalist; see what the reaction is to the splash story; if it's universally thought a turkey - deny it was ever considered. The rules of the political Lobby - that such information is quotable, so long as the source isn't named - are controversial, but, in practice, are part of the lubricant of politics. You have to take a judgement on whether your viewers and listeners are better served by having access to this information, or whether they'd be better off blissfully unaware.

Again, I would plead confidence in the expertise of our correspondents. Their job is to be able to spot when (to mix metaphors) a kite-flyer is a runner and when it's mischief-making. If the hint came from an out-of the-loop back bencher, treat it accordingly. If it came from a close confidant of the prime minister, likewise.

Real news in politics is not purely about events - a photo-opportunity, a speech, a particular meeting, an announcement. It is often about opinion, perception, context, prejudice. The timing of when it actually becomes "news" may hang on a particular event, usually something organised by the politician. But that is seldom the whole story - and we'd be short-changing our audience if we only told them about things when the politicians get round to deciding they think it's time for the public to know.

Ric Bailey is deputy head of political programmes