These debates, proclaims David Aaronovitch in the Times, "are a further triumph of the people over the politicians" – a "large new increment of power moved from the rulers to the ruled". He means that at last we can see for ourselves what we're getting. And how did the Fourth Estate rate in this mighty shift? Try often fifth-rate and shifty.

Take the Sun on the morning before the match. "The Lib Dems are Labour in disguise. They are just keen on high tax and bossing us around. The barmy brigade would lower our defences, free criminals and let illegals stay … A vote for Clegg is a vote for Brown. Simple as that."

Or take Ben Brogan, the Telegraph's new political Mr Big, brutally belabouring Nick Clegg as a "dangerously seductive" sort of Jimmy Carter figure, the anti-candidate with a plan. "He's got nothing to lose – and he must be stopped."

But did anyone pay any heed to Ben or Bun on the morning after? Absolutely not. Clegg walloped Messrs Brown and Cameron on three instant polls, including one in the Sun itself. David Cameron's supposed triumph was to be judged "the best Prime Minister" on a YouGov effort while actually losing four points on his previous PM rating with the same sample before the debate began.

And if that was true, what were we to make of the Sun's claim that Brown – our "Prime Sinister" – looked "shifty, arrogant and bullying", or the Mirror's belief that "Cameron was left floundering as Gordon Brown repeatedly outsmarted him"? Nothing: except that, as usual, the press was merely parroting the number it first thought of.

Nobody can quite tell us what all this debate hoopla means as yet. The fat lady has got Sky and BBC arias on her agenda still. Viewing figures from beginning (at nearly 10 million) to end will tell their own story. The concerted hype of TV, print and twittering millions will surely wane, not wax. But there is already a sense of irrelevance to much of the old-school press propaganda. It was young Nick wot won it, in the tabloid that said he shouldn't. "The nice, bright, young man" pitch worked, as Brogan had to admit. It was the Lib Dem who enjoys no consistent support from any Fleet Street paper who managed quite well without it, thank you.

For the most part, frankly, you can tell where the press and its pundits will wind up on election advice morning. The Telegraph, Express, Star, Sun, Mail and (probably) Times will advocate "change" to the party of traditional or proprietor choice. The Guardian and Indy will be kind to the Greens, warm towards Clegg but reluctant to desert Labour.

But the debate opportunity – the chance to see and judge for yourself – mists a few of those certainties, at least round the edges. And it also puts too much galumphing press spin in an unkindly light. Did Brown "bomb" on Thursday night, as the Sun claimed? Was Cameron really "calm and unruffled" throughout?

We can watch. We can make up our own minds. We don't need Andy Coulson to call us (after he's phoned Wapping) to pass on a Get-Clegg message. We don't really need a three-ring circus of instant pollings either. Who won? You won. And you'll keep on winning, if you can be bothered to keep sitting up and taking notice.

On the attack



It's always easier for journalists to say what they don't like, rather than what they do. And that's the way the punters like it, too. Attack is the surest way of building circulation. Defence sees it crumble away.

But now here comes the media analyst Jim Chisholm, putting figures to those simple truths – and showing that Lord Rothermere and Mr Murdoch would find newspaper business a damned sight better if Labour gets back into power.

Trace sales figures and election changes right from the 1960s until now and the Mail has gained at least 1m in market share with Labour in government, and lost 500,000 during Tory times. Every year of Tory power since Murdoch bought the Times has cost that paper 6% of circulation share. The Daily Mirror's rate of decline doubles under Labour.

And so on and so forth, right around Fleet Street. When your side wins, you lose, and vice-versa, in a world where consolation is an each-way bet.