So the Tucker-Putin chat has finally landed. And it is oddly flat. The breathless predictions of both Mr Carlson’s fanboys and his noisy detractors turned out to be wrong. His sit-down with Vladimir Putin was neither the most explosive exclusive of modern times nor was it a reckless platforming of ‘evil’ that might have world-shaking consequences. It was just strange. And a tad tedious. That this feverishly anticipated chat between the preppy hero of the Very Online right and the notoriously guarded leader of the Russian Federation had so little spark, and at times felt positively sluggish, requires an explanation.

Of course a two-hour exchange with Putin was never going to be riveting. He isn’t famed for his easy manner. Yet, even by Vlad’s standards, it was bad. Let’s just say it won’t do anything to challenge the stereotype of Russians as stiff and melancholic. Putin hijacked the exchange with his eccentric view of history. He gave that lecture he loves, about how Ukraine is an ‘artificial state’ magicked up by Stalin. On and on he went, tripping through the centuries, perhaps mistaking Carlson’s frozen features – his face ‘froze so hard he barely seemed to blink’, said one body-language expert – for interest. Putin needs a Substack, not Tucker Carlson. ...

So all the pre-emptive chatter about the interview, from both Tuckerphobes and Tuckerphiles, was wrong. The hysterical cry that Carlson’s ‘platforming’ of Putin is an outrage, a crime against decency, looks absurd now. The world has not been intoxicated by Putinism. If anything we’ve been anaesthetised by it.