The in-joke among delegates to the Stormont Castle talks is that Northern Ireland has a new detention centre. It is clearly visible from the windows of east Belfast's most graceful mansion. Conditions for the inmates would not be tolerated in better known institutions like the Maze and Maghaberry Prison.

At times they are crammed a dozen to a cell in makeshift accommodation with inadequate toilet facilities. Temperature controls are non-existent; it is always either too hot or too cold and warm food is unheard of. Food and drink are available only from vending machines. The inmates have one thing in common: they are all members of the Fourth Estate, charged with informing the people on the progress of the most important Anglo-Irish negotiations for 75 years.

They first arrived, thirsting for information, two months ago at the start of the multi-party talks, to find themselves incarcerated in a portable building situated in a car-park, 50 yards from the main nerve centre, and separated from it by 12ft mesh fencing patrolled by security guards.

Journalists are nothing if not resolute. Camera crews proceeded to play spot-the-politician as they trained their zoom lenses on the shadowy figures lurking behind the windows. Bored writers slipped their mobile phone numbers to delegates and waited for calls.

They even began to look forward to the vague and infrequent briefings from government ministers well practised in the black art of assuring them that things were going jolly well, while managing to say nothing of substance about anything of importance.

Two months on, the hoped-for flow of real information from the talks has proved to be little more than a trickle, with the consequence that the stark question I am most frequently asked by people who take even a passing interest in this important process is: what the hell is going on up there?

Their puzzlement is understandable. All kinds of questions remain unanswered, at least in any reliable way. How are the loyalist politicians interacting with Sinn Fein? How is Gerry Adams coping with the rules of engagement which require him to behave like a real politician instead of a blame merchant?

Is David Ervine really as bright as they say he is? Does David Trimble look like a man who can deliver an agreement capable of winning broad unionist support? Has John Taylor really had republicans rolling in the aisles with his wry Ulster humour?

Wecan only speculate, and feed on gossip instead of facts. It is as if the media are peering through a glass darkly, and who knows how distorted a picture is being presented as truth?

Even with winter setting in, the people of this island may not have much sympathy for the plight of well-paid journalists stranded in dismal conditions at Stormont. But we should all be concerned about the control of information, around which the media's frustration is merely a symptom. The level of secrecy surrounding this particular political process has reached proportions which would not be tolerated in any democracy worth its salt.

Take, for instance, the plight of the Democratic Unionist Party. It sends one MEP to Strasbourg, two MPs to Westminster, 63 councillors to Northern Ireland's 26 district authorities and 24 members to the Northern Ireland Forum. While the party has decided not to attend the formal multi-party talks, the DUP takes a close interest in the proceedings.

Yet they are not permitted to see the minutes of plenary sessions. This is because the Secretary of State, Mo Mowlam, believes that the DUP, one of Northern Ireland's main political parties, is not a fit body to examine the fine detail of the Stormont talks.

Conversely, while the SDLP and Sinn Fein have boycotted the Northern Ireland Forum, they do receive a Hansard-style record of debates every week. The report is comprehensive and is available to anyone who wants it. Yet Dr Mowlam has been supported by the other parties in this stand against transparency.

The Northern Secretary may be determined to teach the errant DUP a lesson, but this demonstration of playground politics has done nothing to build confidence in the process. The wider unionist community is increasingly concerned that even if they are not being sold out, they are at the very least being led on an Irish jig up the political garden path.

Unless things change, it will not be long before the lack of information which has increased their suspicions is replaced by a glut of speculation which may hasten the day when the peace process malcontents are speaking for a majority of the Ulster people.

The British government's information sensitivity has also led to a confidence crisis among many republicans, with recent resignations from the Provisional IRA and Sinn Fein testifying that it is not only unionists who are nervous about the wheeling and dealing being done in Stormont's shadowy corridors.

Yet the particular conflict between Paisley and Mowlam is in many ways a side issue. The main concern is whether or not democracy is truly in operation at Stormont. Democracy means that people know what is going on and have a say in that process. All the people of Northern Ireland, irrespective of who they vote for or which party they support, have a right to know what plans are being made about their future and their children's future.

One of the most basic tenets of democracy is that people are informed and involved. Without this essential relationship with the people, the democratic process begins to lose credibility. When openness and accountability are absent, democracy begins to represent only the small clique taking part in the discussions and not the people they are there to represent.

But with the media effectively barred from even the most open round-table sessions at Stormont Castle, the public has to rely not on what journalists actually see and hear for themselves, but on what it is selectively told by participants with their own axe to grind or a partisan agenda to promote.

Parties can inflate their own profile by pandering to media eager to absorb anything of interest, while others working painstakingly towards an agreed formula are unable to provide such exciting sound bites. The public perception is that the latter are the ones doing least to reach agreement, when in fact they may be doing most. And when the long-suffering public is eventually asked to have its say in a referendum, it will be inadequately prepared to make a rational and informed choice.

If there are hard decisions to be taken by people on both sides of the Border next summer, is it not sheer folly now to shroud all of the current proceedings in mystery and ambiguity?

A prominent Ulster businessman, Sir George Quigley, who is a keen observer of the political process and an advocate of stronger economic ties between Belfast and Dublin, believes the business community wants to know more.

He recently asked the NIO minister, Paul Murphy, to consider publishing a regular bulletin on the progress being made at the talks. Further down the line the parties involved might need to know that, if they come to some sort of agreement, is it likely to be supported by the people or is it going to be mown down by popular opinion, he said.

The idea of a bulletin would certainly help, but in itself it falls short of what proper democracy demands. I am not arguing that the media should be able to report everything that is said. There is a need for a large measure of confidentiality in a process where the participants are negotiating a diplomatic minefield.

But there needs to be openness, too. It should not be beyond the imagination of the participants to devise rules of engagement which allow the media - and thus the public - access to an open session on at least a weekly basis.

It is more than a month since the News Letter called on the talks participants to decide on the rules for confidentiality and openness. We argued that it would be better to have a press gallery at a plenary session than a war of the faxes afterwards. I wrote to the Northern Ireland Office outlining my personal concerns, which I believe are shared not only by journalists but by the people of Northern Ireland.

I have not yet received a response. Perhaps I should don the winter woollies, join the media inmates in the glorified portaloo that is the NIO's media centre for the multiparty talks, and refuse to leave until I have an answer.

Geoff Martin is editor of the News Letter in Belfast