DO you want to know a secret? I'm going to tell you anyway because, like the makers of too many TV programmes these days, I can't hold my tongue and resist giving the game away.

The word is that Coronation Street's Steve Macdonald will receive unexpected, and unwelcome news, on Christmas Day - that he's to become a father. Tracy Barlow will tell him in the festive edition that she's carrying his child, which is not such good news when you consider he's planning a Valentine Day wedding to Karen (the woman he originally married for a bet and has since divorced so he can give her the big wedding she craves - don't ask, it's complicated).

The point is that, until now, Tracy has let everyone think that Roy Cropper is the father of her unborn child. Now she intends to give Steve a Christmas present he won't forget.

Before you accuse me of being a spoilsport, let me say in my defence that I'm only repeating what Kate Ford, the actress who plays troublesome Tracy, told listeners to BBC Radio Five Live earlier this week.

There was no "plot spoiler" warning that she intended to give away the Street's big Christmas storyline. That was the reason she was there. Regrettably, the element of surprise, surprise has been removed from virtually everything that's on the box. Even the trailer for the most recent Taggart mystery included a scene from the climax of the 90-minute thriller.

Television is getting as bad as the movies where trailers are no longer tasters but three-course meals adding up to a potted version of the entire film.

In a bid to maximise ratings, TV bosses feel it necessary to signal every twist and turn of the plot days, maybe even weeks, in advance.

Viewers sitting comfortably in their armchairs should have felt a shiver of surprise and let out an involuntary gasp of horror when it was revealed recently that creepy PC Gabriel in ITV's cop shop drama The Bill was the secret son of fellow police officer June Ackland, with whom he's getting increasingly romantically involved.

Trouble was this plot development was no surprise as the story had been "leaked" well in advance, robbing viewers of that unique Hitchcockian moment when the unexpected happens. Tales Of The Not So Unexpected, you might say.

Soaps are the prime culprits in this game of kiss and tell. The conspiracy between the programme-makers and the media (yes, I admit "we" play our part in the revelations) ensures viewers know well in advance what's going to happen. There are entire magazine engaged in spilling the beans about soaps. Women's magazines provide summaries of the latest developments on their covers in headlines along the lines of "Tracy's pregnant and Steve's the father". Not very subtle at all.

You need never watch the show to keep up with events. You can follow what's happening simply by reading about them.

Was there anyone who didn't know Dirty Den was returning to EastEnders? By the time he appeared from the shadows of Angie's Den, Leslie Grantham's comeback had been loudly announced in news stories, interviews and photo calls. Think how much more impact it would have made if no one had known he was set to return.

Ignorance can be bliss, if only TV companies would have more confidence in the ability of their product to make people turn on without detailed advance knowledge of what they're going to see.

Showing the best bits in trailers is understandable, but revealing the surprise is unforgiveable. Unfortunately, it's part of the TV culture, driven by the desire for ratings, that dictates putting all your wares on display and not keeping anything under the counter to surprise the customer.

Gone are the days when publicists sat in on interviews to ensure talkative soap actors didn't tell the press too much. Now they're instructed to divulge everything that's going to happen to them. This ensures that "exclusive" photographs and stories appear before any big soap event, such as serial killer Tricky Dicky's canal plunge in The Street. These aren't so much leaks as floods of information.

Where will it all end? Soon they'll be telling us whodunit in murder mysteries weeks before the programme is shown. In fact, there's a new Hercule Poirot TV film tomorrow. I've seen a preview of Five Little Pigs and know the identity of the guilty party.

But I'm saying nothing, except to tell you that the butler didn't do it. Unlike soap actors like Kate Ford, I can keep my mouth shut. And nothing, not even the threat of being locked in a room and being made to watch endless reruns of You've Been Framed, will make me talk.