When Jonny Evans and Papiss Cissé exchanged mouthfuls of saliva at St James’ Park on Wednesday night, it was easy to predict the reaction: outrage, pure and simple.

“This is not acceptable. It’s disgusting,” said Dietmar Hamann, a laid-back type who one imagines isn’t so easily revulsed. Phil Neville thought it was “unacceptable”, while Robbie Savage, a man many actively choose to disagree with whatever his opinion, found many echoing his thoughts that the unpalatable act is “the lowest of the low”.

Talk of a lengthy ban being handed down followed and among the swirl of commotion on TV and social media there was very little perspective. Alan McInally, the former Celtic and Scotland striker, perhaps had the most eye-opening view. “If you get tackled and somebody injures you, I think you take it. If somebody spits on you, as a footballer player, that’s not happening … maybe six games isn’t enough. If you give them 10 games, they take the wrath of their football club.”

It would be interesting to hear whether the Stoke midfielder Stephen Ireland agrees with McInally. He’s currently out of action with 15 stitches in his right calf after Hull’s Maynor Figueroa sliced his leg with an unpunished tackle last weekend.

Or Neymar, who was lucky not to be seriously injured after feeling the full force of a lunge from Villarreal’s Tomás Pina for Barcelona in the Copa del Rey on Wednesday night.

Or Alf-Inge Haaland, who was left writhing around in agony on the Old Trafford pitch after Roy Keane’s intentional studs-up lunge in 2001. And then there’s Saido Berahino, who given the choice of being assaulted by a warm, wet splodge of saliva or the studs of an airborne Alan Hutton with his sights set on the West Bromwich Albion forward’s crown jewels – as was the case on Tuesday night – well, you could imagine what he’d choose.

Louis van Gaal says he cannot imagine Jonny Evans and spitting at Papiss Cissé. Guardian

But perhaps that simplifies the argument. Everyone would opt for being spat at above suffering serious injury. As humiliating as it is to have a gob-full dripping down your face, its effect on you is psychological. I’ve been inadvertently spat on in a football match and it hasn’t bothered me because I knew the intent wasn’t there. I may well have done the same to someone else, it’s impossible not to have to clear the pipes when your body’s being pushed to the limits outdoors. So, call it friendly fire if you will.

But when it is intentionally launched in your face, it is entirely different. Even in the heat of battle you have to give it some thought. So, yes, it is horrible. And offensive. And the arguments about it being a terrible example for those easily influenced is valid.

But “the lowest of the low”? No. Perhaps it’s a very British thing to rank spitting so high in the list of things to be outraged by. John Terry was banned for four games after being found guilty of using racist language on a football field. In 1999 Patrick Vieira received the same punishment – plus a further two games for his reaction to being sent off – for spitting at Neil Ruddock, a player who was so outraged he broke with tradition and even managed a sprint to confront the Frenchman. And that’s the same Ruddock who fractured both of Andy Cole’s legs in a reserve match for Liverpool against Manchester United some years earlier with one typically errant swipe.

Yes, we probably need to have a rethink when it comes to moral outrage. Maybe the reason people get so hot and bothered about spitting is because it’s an easy thing to get hot and bothered about. There can be no discussion about interpretation when you see a sticky ball of drool fired from one person to another. It is hard to mount a legal defence when others accuse you of doing something that can be judged so easily and with so little comeback. Pundits and fans perhaps feel a little more comfortable about condemning it. Here’s something the whole world, no matter who they are or where they’re from, can all agree on as being wrong.

It is just a pity that the condemnation of potentially career-ending challenges and the discussion around how to better protect players from them rarely grab the headlines in the same way.

So how do we bring a little perspective to the discussion about these far from great expectorations?

Maybe the reaction to spitting should be set aside, put into a separate box that exists outside of football. Yes, we all know it’s disgusting. What more is there to add? A better use of everybody’s time would be to call out those players who still try to harm the wellbeing of fellow professionals.

We could all do well to refer to the story of Rudi Völler v Frank Rijkaard at Italia 90. We all know it. The image of Rijkaard’s flob dangling from the West Germany striker’s hair is hard to forget. They were both sent off following a tussle on the pitch in which Völler appeared to do little wrong.

“Spitting is universally recognised as perhaps the ultimate degradation and it’s bound to result in rather aggressive retaliation,” said the consultant psychologist Dr Aric Sigman, in a documentary about Italia 90. But Völler didn’t retaliate. He was the bigger man. He was even spat on again by Holland’s Rijkaard as he jogged back to the dressing room.

That Völler forgave Rijkaard some years later is remarkable. It is hard to imagine Haaland doing likewise with Keane. But Völler could play on. Others, when suffering violent conduct launched by legs, rather than lips, cannot.

Poll: What ban should be applied to footballers who spit at opponents?