I’m not drunk, and I’m not saying that the phone-hacking isn’t a big deal

The same conversation, over and over again. ‘Well, you can’t write about it, can you?’

‘Why not?’

‘Duh! Rupert Murdoch? He wouldn’t let you.’

‘You’re quite right, actually. He called this morning. “There are questions being asked in parliament,” he said. “The BSkyB deal might fall through and Andy Coulson got arrested the other day. But the one thing we’re all worried about, mate, is you writing a whimsical column about it in The Spectator.”’

‘You’re joking!’

‘Yes. I am joking.’

‘Well I don’t find it very funny. A murdered girl’s voicemail? Service families? 9/11 victims? You ought to be ashamed.’

‘Why? I didn’t do it.’

‘Your company did it.’

‘Some people working for a bit of my company did it. And I think they should be sacked, and maybe go to jail. Just like you probably do.’

‘But that’s so hypocritical! Their profits paid your wages.’

‘So? Bankers’ profits pay nurses’ wages. Should nurses be ashamed of toxic debt?’

‘It’s not the same! For God’s sake! The Sun reported that Gordon Brown’s newborn baby was ill!’

‘Gross, yeah. But they also put it on the front page. Five years ago. It’s hardly something we’ve just found out, is it?’

‘We didn’t know they’d broken the law!’

‘We still don’t know that they’d broken the law. And even if they did, didn’t the Telegraph receive stolen goods to publish the expenses files? Didn’t the Guardian do the same, to publish WikiLeaks? Journalism sometimes crosses the line. Always has.’

‘It’s not the same thing! A sick kid? I can’t believe you’re defending them!’

‘I’m not. It was gross. I just said. But I always thought tabloids were largely gross. What did you think?’

‘I wouldn’t know. I don’t take the Murdoch press. No offence, but you people disgust me. Until last week, the Times had barely even reported on phone hacking!’

‘None taken. And if you don’t take it, how would you know?’

‘I think I read it in the Guardian.’

‘I doubt it. Actually, nobody bar the Guardian and the Independent reported it more.’

‘Whatever. Look, you can’t pretend this isn’t a big deal. There are TV crews camped outside your offices!’

‘I’m not pretending it isn’t a big deal. It’s a horribly big deal. Although those are completely the wrong offices. We’re next door.’

‘That’s a bit weird.’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘Serves you right, anyway. Good old Labour, for refusing to be bullied.’

‘Are you joking? That bit is definitely tosh. They’re just peeved because the Sun dumped them before the last election. Back in the day, the people at the top were Blair and Brown’s best friends.’

‘They were only pretending! They were terrified! Haven’t you been reading Peter Mandelson?’

‘Do me a favour. They were friends with George W. Bush. They were friends with Hosni Mubarak. They were even friends with Colonel Gaddafi. You think they were secretly desperate to draw the line at the people who run newspapers?’

‘You must be drunk. How can you claim there isn’t a scandal here?’

‘You’re the drunk one. When did I claim that? Of course there’s a scandal here. There’s about eight different scandals here, from hacked phones to horribly corrupt police, to the emergence of Hugh Grant and Steve Coogan as the voices of reason. All of them worry me. Mainly, though, I’m worried about the future of my industry, which wasn’t in great shape to start with. I’m 34. I’d like to keep doing this job for another three decades, at least. When healthy 168-year-old newspapers are being closed in the blink of an eye, however vile they once were, it makes me feel sick to my stomach.’

‘You’d definitely get into trouble for saying that.’

‘I keep telling you, that’s not how it works. And anyway, an editorial in the Times already said it.’

‘Oh. I didn’t see that.’

‘Maybe you should start buying it, then. But first, get your round in. Mine’s a double. And maybe some nuts.’

The thing is, though, who cares? I mean, I do, sure, and you probably do, too. But who else? ‘Everybody!’ I hear you cry, ‘you corporate shill!’

And you should be right, but you aren’t. My favourite bit of commentary of this whole sorry affair so far was the tweet by somebody, I forget who (this isn’t plagiarism, please note, but ignorance — quite different), who insightfully pointed out that it was just the media and political world which was a-buzz with chatter about phone-hacking. On the BBC website’s list of most-read stories, he or she pointed out, it came seventh, directly under one about the discovery of the skeleton of a giant wombat.

That was a few days ago, of course. Since then, hacking has rocketed up the agenda. Checking again, I see that it is now fourth, beneath a self-explanatory tale headlined ‘Window crash owl leaves imprint’.

Hugo Rifkind is a writer for the Times.