A long time ago, I was a “lobby” journalist – ie, covering Parliament and politics under the special conventions which applied. I enjoyed it very much (I was in my 20s and – to adapt Prospero – ’twas new to me), but it is ultimately dispiriting. It links MPs and journalists in a potentially deadly dance.

The media – as that word implies – are supposed primarily to be conveyors of accurate news to the public, rather than players in the drama. But in the Westminster village, that is considered boring. Particular contempt is felt, for example, for the basic duty of reporting what gets said in the Chamber of the House of Commons or the details of what a Bill contains. Much more exciting to get hold of a Cabinet split, ministerial gaffe or example of “sleaze”. That is what gets you promoted.

This brings out the tendency – innate in most professions – to seek the esteem of colleagues more than to serve the public. In these circumstances, media and MPs bring out the worst in each other, each burnishing (and bruising) their mutual vanities.

This has been particularly evident during Covid. What matters in this sad tale are questions like “Do lockdowns actually work?”, “Is modelling the best way of explaining what will happen?” “Why is the NHS so bad at running itself and in its behaviour towards care homes?”, “How did the virus really develop and spread in China?”, “How can poorer countries be vaccinated?” and so on.

What gets far more fanatical media attention, however, are stories like Dominic Cummings’s trip to Barnard Castle, Boris Johnson’s wallpaper or, this week, a party or “gathering” which took place in Downing Street this time last year.

About two months ago, I decided on an experiment. For roughly half a century, I have been a faithful listener to the BBC Today programme. Recently, however, I became increasingly fed up with its uncritical approach to public-sector, EU, woke and green lobby groups, its attempt to do in Boris Johnson at every turn, and the curse – most evident in the presenter Nick Robinson – of Westminster insiderism (see above).

So I decided to listen no longer. My mind has correspondingly expanded. More time to study the wider world – and indeed to look out of the window and contemplate the autumn sun on the woods and fields. Almost no time being incited to work up indignation about how some special adviser at the Department of Drains may have been pressured by No 10 to leak something (or similar piffle).

This week, however, as the party/“gathering” story grew, I realised I must switch on again. Today lives for such stories. I knew it would line up its journalistic shock troops for the assault, plus its usual auxiliaries of Tory MPs passed over or demoted by Boris and retired public servants furious over Brexit.

I was not disappointed. On these full-dress occasions, the leading journalists start reading out little essays on air. On Thursday, Laura Kuenssberg offered one with the wish-fulfilling refrain “It’s not over”. Yesterday, Nick Robinson opined that never in all his born days had he seen such things. He interviewed Lord Barwell (Theresa May’s former chief of staff, reliably anti-Boris). Barwell’s final comment concerned what will happen to Boris among Tory MPs “if his popularity goes”. “He goes,” said Robinson, capping Barwell’s sentence lest anyone should miss the point.

Today this week has been a masterclass in how all this is done, deploying the tabloid technique of relegating all other news to the sidelines. Thus Nusrat Ghani MP was given prime time yesterday for her bit of Boris-bashing, while her actual purpose – to talk about Chinese persecution of the Uyghurs – was pushed towards the programme’s end, genocide being less important than whether a few Downing Street press officers had illicit cheese and wine last Christmas. Even omicron was made to give place to the alpha and omega of BBC coverage (especially when a by-election looms), which is that Brexit is dreadful and Boris is a liar.

Once again, the foetid air of Westminster intrigue, hypocrisy and moralism stifles the important things we need to know about our country and our world in these weird times.

But lest anyone suppose that this column is a full-hearted defence of the Government from carping critics, I must add that a clear example of the problem I have aired above is the Prime Minister himself.

Boris Johnson was a brilliant lobby journalist. He knows as well as anyone how the game is played. But this does not stand him in good stead in politics. He thinks about media reception too much. He shudders at headlines and – as did John Major in the 1990s – makes the grave mistake of ringing round editors in the night to complain.

His mind is thus befogged with trivia and distorted by suspicion. A prime minister needs to be highly alert to the media, but at a remove. His position should enable him to rise above us, the hacks, and reach you, the public.

The fundamental appeal of Boris Johnson – which remains strong and explains why he is hated by the establishment – is that, over Brexit, he successfully called the bluff of the powerful. His cheerful expression of hope over fear won the referendum, the Tory leadership election, the general election and achieved actual Brexit.

What logically follows from that victory is a longer-term attempt to build a system which is more democratically accountable and responsive to voters, rather than operated by unelected “independent” officials, overreaching Supreme Court judges and overmighty regulators. It is encouraging, for example, that Boris has just nominated Gisela Stuart, the Brexiteer former Labour MP, to supervise the appointment of senior civil servants.

But much too often Boris gets ensnared by his own carelessness. His Lord of Misrule act sometimes gives him the virtue of surprise, but often bogs him down in excuses and gives ammunition to his foes. Then the toll on those working for him is heavy and the protection they receive too weak. I do not see, for example, why the people filmed asking and answering practice questions for a press conference that never happened should have been described by their boss as doing something “sickening”.

Take that wallpaper. Ethically, it is justified to raise private money to improve the Downing Street flat, so long as no strings are attached. Boris cannot, after all, swipe the fixtures and fittings when he leaves. A prime minister’s official residence should be well and permanently maintained. But Boris rushed the process, and now it appears he did not tell Lord Geidt, his adviser on standards, about a key exchange with the potential donor on the subject. Why should an adviser be put in this position?

Similarly, it is regrettable, but not deeply disgraceful, if some Downing Street staff did have a drink at their desks one tiring evening a year ago. It only starts to become a question when the machine fails to supply proper answers and no one seems to be in charge of doing so.

In modern times, Downing Street has become too big to sustain the intense esprit de corps it had in the Churchill or Thatcher eras. Its loyalty should be like that of the Brigade of Guards to the Sovereign – automatic yet heartfelt, a sine qua non for the job. Boris Johnson can be his own worst enemy. All the more reason why he needs the help of true friends.