Sam Dastyari has always been an astute political analyst and he has an honorary doctorate in internal intrigues, so his analysis of his own situation as he confirmed his departure on Tuesday was hard to argue with.

Dastyari noted his continuing presence would detract from Labor’s mission (which right now can be distilled to Bill Shorten wanting to win the next federal election, and, with a bit of luck, Bennelong this Saturday) – so if that was the reality, it was best to find another situation.

Sam Dastyari quits as Labor senator over China connections Read more

Implicit in that assessment was a judgment his position had become untenable.

The Coalition was in the grip of its relentless pursuit, hyperventilating and implying dark deeds around the clock, unleashing a barrage of Le-Carré-style rhetoric, and the internal news wasn’t much better. Labor colleagues were either briefing against him or noting publicly that he really ought to consider a second career in floristry.

If this had been a leadership coup, and Dastyari in the various backroom machinations up to his neck, his professional advice would have been unequivocal: bring in the end-of-lease cleaners.

But while the self diagnosis was acute, what Dastyari didn’t say was also notable.

The superficial inconveniences were well articulated, while the substance sat mute. There was no admission of, or apology for, his own poor judgment, which is at the root of this departure.

Malcolm Turnbull denies he is anti-China in combative Q&A appearance Read more

There was no recognition, in public at least, that an Australian senator should not go to the home of a businessman of any nationality, ask that phones be left outside, and warn the homeowner that it was possible he was under surveillance by intelligence agencies.

Given Dastyari’s enthusiasms often prompt him to talk first and think second, it is quite possible the episode which has brought him undone was just a bit of loose banter, rather than anything sinister, but giving him the benefit of the innocent interpretation, the conduct was naive and stupid and unbecoming of a parliamentarian, whose duty must be to the public rather then the interests of a billionaire political donor.

There was concern there would always be another poor judgment lurking around the corner, that a Sam epiphany would be quickly followed by some Sam recidivism; and Dastyari had troubled some Labor colleagues over a long period by being too willing to push the China line in various internal deliberations.

So there Dastyari was, bidding farewell in the commonwealth parliamentary offices, with Shorten noting his good, decent and patriotic colleague would make a “valuable contribution to our country in whatever he chooses to do”, which is the political equivalent of saying, politely, thanks for the memories, and don’t let the door hit your bum on the way out.

Turnbull says Shorten must 'boot Dastyari out' to prove he is 'on Australia's side' Read more

But a couple of things are worth highlighting as we bid farewell to our frenetic friend from New South Wales Labor for at least as long as it takes for him to surface, volubly, elsewhere.

If we think Dastyari is the only person in politics who has trouble knowing where to draw lines, we are all suffering from a collective delusion. The culture of chasing the money that lurks behind the basic misjudgment is endemic, and a problem for both major parties, one they have seemed very reluctant to fix.

Dastyari’s position was completely untenable because of his own gobsmackingly poor judgment, but that doesn’t justify some of the reckless public discussion around his behaviour and motives, and the important issue of Chinese soft power and influence.

This has gone from sotto voce to cold war potboiler in a matter of weeks, and a serious public policy challenge facing democracies around the world has been laced heavily with brutal intra-day politics, with some of the media coverage crudely xenophobic in tone.

The government has been quick to transform an intellectual challenge into an emotional one, in order to better mine the political resonances.

We are unfortunately well used to government by feelings and inferences, lurching from one day to the next. It seems a nightmare that’s hard to shake. But if we care about solving big problems, it would be best to tone down the conjecture and the overreach.

If we want to face up to the serious challenges of the age, which include both big geopolitical calls and preserving security and harmony at home; if we want to have a conversation about the national interest rather than watching a desperate daily display of one-upmanship by a government hunting for scalps across the aisle as a psychic break from knee-capping one another – it really is best to avoid transforming a weighty issue into a graphic novel, a three-ringed circus or a tawdry episode of Survivor.