The kowtowing of the political class to the Murdochs has been dismal, but it is familiar enough. Any suspicion that the police were similarly deferential would take things to another and more disturbing level, undermining every assumption about the integrity of public authority. The MPs who quizzed past and present top Metropolitan police officers seemed genuinely mystified as to why New Scotland Yard had seen fit to open and shut the remarkable NoW files in such short order. They were troubled by the failure of the police to inform victims that they may have been hacked and by the extraordinarily cursory 2009 "review" of the original investigation. And they heard a former head of counter-terrorism describe News International as a "major global organisation with access to the best legal advice, [which was] ... deliberately trying to thwart a criminal investigation".

It was heartening to see parliamentarians begin to recognise that a malady which began with the intimidation of elective power can only be remedied through its reassertion. Back in 2009, Rebekah Brooks declined to dignify the culture committee with her presence, and – according to one former member – it was fear of reprisals which deterred MPs from pushing matters further. But Tuesday's request for a date with both Brooks and the Murdochs was accompanied by talk of commanding them to the bar of the Commons. Today, the whole house will have its say in an opposition day debate. Plainly worded and to the point, Labour's motion calls on Murdoch to withdraw the bid for BSkyB. Even now, Whitehall's technocrats may be briefing ministers that such a resolution is impotent, citing the reference to the Competition Commission. But this Whitehall view is blinkered in so many way, it is hard to know where to begin. The notion of Jeremy Hunt meting out disinterested jurisprudence was always absurd. He has himself commented on the oddity of an elected politician taking on this role and he has gone out of his way to be accommodating to NI. Over the last eight days the ersatz wig has tumbled from his head.

Politics is the art of the possible, and neither ministers nor regulators – nor, indeed, international corporations – can ignore the possible forever. News Corp's buying back of its own stock to arrest the slide in its share price is only one reminder of that. The company has reaped a whirlwind of rage which, by Monday, had forced it to seek shelter in the Competition Commission. By expressing the clear will of the people – that the takeover cannot be countenanced – the Commons would be fulfilling one of its principal democratic functions, even if there were no further effect. But it could very well be that there will be consequences, even if News Corp itself is too brazen to concern itself with what the people think. Both the Competition Commission and Ofcom, the latter the prospective applicators of the "fit and proper person test", would want to reflect and weigh the concerns of parliamentarians. Both bodies are, quite properly, subject to judicial review if they overstep the law by acting irrationally. To act irrationally in public law is, however, to act in a manner which no reasonable person could countenance. The approach of the people as a whole is arguably pertinent to this sort of a test, and so MPs would do well to express the nation's sense that letting the deal proceed just now would be outright perverse.

Every Lib Dem would have wanted to follow Ed Miliband into the lobbies tonight, even before reports started to emerge that the Conservatives, too, would want to back the motion. No matter that, a week ago, David Cameron told the house that it would be entirely improper to connect phone hacking and the BSkyB bid. This week has proved an ocean of time in politics. By pitching the popular will against the disgraced popular press, MPs can on Wednesday night perform a useful service.