Boris Johnson had lost every Commons vote, his overall majority and the support of his own brother last week when the editor of the Telegraph sent an email to subscribers headlined, “Is it really that bleak for Boris?”

After months of unstinting support for its former-columnist-turned-prime-minister, the lack of regret for the departures of either Jo Johnson or former Tory big beasts such as Kenneth Clarke did not come as a huge surprise. Yet the note from Chris Evans was telling nonetheless for promoting a piece by the editor of the Sunday Telegraph, Allister Heath, that welcomed “a tougher, rougher non-deferential conservatism”. For leave voters, he said, “losing anti-Brexit irreconcilables, especially overrated establishment figures, is a huge step in the right direction”.

For much of its history the Telegraph was the paper of the establishment, at least its landed and military wings, which underlines quite how much has changed. In his column, Heath welcomed the long-delayed “seismic realignment” of the Conservative party, but he could have easily been talking of the similar refashioning of the paper long known as “the Torygraph” and now more often “the Daily Boris”.

It is not alone in its visceral support for the hardline new government, and writing news with an agenda has long been a feature of the British press. This week the Sun superimposed the Labour leader’s head on to a bird with the headline “Is this the most dangerous chicken in Britain?” in an echo of its infamous lightbulb front page featuring Neil Kinnock ahead of the 1992 election. It went further in using Johnson’s words to set the news agenda, when it took his playground use of the sexist “big girl’s blouse” to send a reporter with a pink top to Jeremy Corbyn’s house.

These antics, rather than act as a reminder of the days when millions more read these papers, reflect a new shrill tone for the “news”. The debate about whether the media sets or reflects that tone is never ending but there is evidence that, while Johnson and his allies may be becoming more radical in order to take power, the press is doing so in a bid to survive.

It is hardly news that mass-market newspapers are ailing: the once million-selling Telegraph sold 328,000 in August, just 4,000 more than the Times, once bulks sales are taken out. The Sun still sells 1.26m, but double-digit sales declines were suffered by all but the Mail, Guardian and FT in August.

Although print can still set broadcast and online news agendas, none of this should matter as most of us read content online offering greater readership but less revenue. Faced with the online onslaught, the reaction of many beleaguered newspapers, a bit like the tone of protest outside parliament, is either to merge news with entertainment or start shouting into people’s faces.

Johnson, a favourite of the billionaire Barclay brothers who own the Telegraph, has long had special treatment from the last remaining national daily broadsheet. Ahead of his anointment as prime minister, it splashed his weekly columns on its front page while paying him £275,000 for the privilege. Unlike the Sun, it has always backed the Conservative party in an election. But there were always certain issues – the armed forces in particular, possibly the monarchy – where it would happily disagree for the greater cause. Founded by an army colonel with a grievance, it has always been a chest-puffed proponent of Queen and Country.

This changed in the Johnson era where support for his policies trumps other concerns. This was evident in the favourable treatment of Gavin Williamson when he was sacked as defence secretary by Theresa May on suspicion of leaking security information. The resulting interview took umbrage at the fact he was “ambushed” while on holiday. Two months later Williamson, who denied the leaks, was appointed to Johnson’s cabinet.

Then in June, the paper splashed that Johnson’s leadership rival Rory Stewart may have “spied” for MI6 – a job that would once have been considered quite honourable by the paper. Stewart denied any such role but the truly surprising thing was that the paper was willing to splash on a national security issue to attack its candidate’s opponent. One old Telegraph reader described both stories to me as “completely rum”.

Award-winning journalist Peter Oborne left the paper and wrote about the unethical relationship between editorial and commercial in 2015. Now at the Mail, he has written little about the newspaper until last month. Imagining the sort of treatment Corbyn would have received if his first days had gone as badly as the new prime minister’s, Oborne wrote: “It’s time to end the sycophancy over Boris Johnson.” In it he warned of the dangers of failing to question a politician by leave-supporting newspapers. “They weren’t interested in truth. They were interested in winning,” he wrote. Truth has made way for propaganda, in other words.

Yet there are still many honourable exceptions in the paper: from the MPs’ expenses scandal to the Philip Green harassment case; from detailed analysis by Europe editor Peter Foster to great columns on the business pages.

Brexit has simply added fuel to the fires lit by the arrival of online competition and the need to maintain readers and finance. Where once millions of people belonged to the two main political parties and bought the connected papers, now the mass market finds news and entertainment via Facebook and YouTube, where they are prey to attack ads. The Telegraph, which made an operating profit of £51m in 2015, is rumoured to be barely breaking even this year.

For years there has been talk of it being for sale. A recent trip to Washington by senior executives reignited rumours that the Washington Post’s owner, Jeff Bezos, may be interested.

News organisations owned by companies not run by founding fathers, such as the Nikkei-owned FT, appear to be ploughing a different course. This week’s FT series on Corbyn had been months in the planning and attempted to offer a a detailed analysis of Labour plans.

It is still unclear which business strategy will prevail. It might be those who shout loudest or those who try to hold the line of good solid reporting, like almost everyone else.

The Telegraph ran a piece by Guto Bebb, an MP stripped of the Tory whip last week, which talked of the party run by “an obsessed sect”. A day later a front page column by Allison Pearson blasted: “As for those taking out the smelling salts and wailing about the Tory party becoming a ‘narrow sect’ don’t seem to understand that, without Brexit, their ‘broad church’ will soon be a ruined cathedral, with only the ghost of greatness.”

That’s a line that could be as true of newspapers, as it is of the Conservative party.