Ha ha ha ha! That is, roughly, what we all say as we watch the News of the World's discomfiture over revelations that the illegal interception of voicemails was rife in there during Andy Coulson's time as editor.

The former Prime Minister "refuses to comment" on claims that Rupert Murdoch pressured him to smother the phone-hacking investigation. The absurd "one bad apple" defence falls to pieces. Collars of ever more senior executives look like being felt.

All utter bliss. It doesn't trivialise the importance of the phone-hacking, however, to give it some perspective. A self-righteousness high can also be an anaesthetic: and phone-hacking in search of celebrity tittle tattle is not the worst thing newspapers do by quite a long chalk.

Sensational reporting on suspects in murder inquiries, heedless of the spirit and often the letter of sub judice rules, does far more real-world damage. Consider the way Joanna Yeates's landlord Chris Jefferies, for no other crime than being "eccentric", was dragged through the front pages; or the horrible innuendoes slung about during the Madeleine McCann case.

Consider the front-page hate speeches about asylum seekers and gipsies in Right-wing tabloids; the damaging generalisations about welfare claimants; the paediatricians chased from their homes by angry mobs; the headbanging bigots given front-page platforms in the interests of a good story and the bloodshed that follows. Consider the hounding of celebrities when they are bereaved or mentally ill.

Consider the cynical reporting of medical issues - complex evidence wilfully misrepresented to "show" that this might cause cancer or that might prevent it; or the verifiable impact of vaccine scaremongering on inoculation statistics. Consider the fear and ignorance spread as a result, the money and hope wasted on quack cures and miracle diets.

All these have real-world consequences that go beyond the shabby, school-sneak behaviour of hacking celebrity voicemails. Most of these aren't even illegal; and they're policed by a self-regulatory body so toothless that it would struggle with lumpy soup. (One proprietor, Richard Desmond, has already demonstrated that if you find being censured by the PCC annoying, you can just withdraw from it.)

Like everybody else, I watch with unalloyed delight as the net closes on phone-hacking crooks. I cheer as yet another celebrity sees the apology and offer of damages as what it is, ie tactical, and announces their intention to take things all the way. I love the double-bind that the hardest people to buy off are rich people, and that in this case the News of the World has taken on dozens of rich people. I love imagining the tingle on powerful scalps at the thought of what disclosure rulings might bring into the public domain.

This is popcorn stuff: the enjoyable spectacle of a bully getting a bloody nose. But in the grand scheme of things it isn't much more than that.