Dragged to the House of Commons to explain why he was licensing a fresh expansion of the Murdoch media empire, Jeremy Hunt yesterday wondered aloud why it fell to politicians as opposed to independent regulators to settle such things. The culture secretary's thought was an interesting one, betraying a recognition of the terrible temptations he faced. But like an alcoholic discussing his problem over a pint, he succumbed all the same. In the midst of the News of the World phone-hacking scandal, Ofcom's turn-of-the-year advice to refer the decision to the Competition Commission provided the perfect opportunity for Mr Hunt to keep his hands clean. But far from clearing the murk that always surrounds News Corporation's dealings with elected power, he has greatly thickened the fog.

The Australian-born American citizen Rupert Murdoch commands just under 40% of the UK newspaper market, and just under 40% of the vast BSkyB. Now, with Mr Hunt's help, he is set to increase that second figure to 100%, and to merge the two operations, creating unique opportunities for bundling up paper and TV advertising and sales. Even in Berlusconi's Italy there are restrictions on broadcasters moving into print. No well-functioning democracy should allow one man to frame its window on the world. But then the institutions of British democracy have hardly been functioning well of late in relation to Mr Murdoch.

The fourth estate of the free press, in which we are of course one interested party, is one of those institutions. It should check and balance political power from the outside, while itself being held in check by the ordinary processes of the criminal law. The fact that BSkyB's summer party last night was staged in the Foreign Office, however, seemed apt: Murdoch's tentacles reach deep into the establishment's heart. A fortnight before yesterday's decision, the prime minister – who had of course basked in the warmth of the Sun in last year's close election – attended a closed summit of CEOs at News International's Wapping base. But two decades after the Sun claimed to have won it for John Major, and one and a half since Tony Blair flew to Singapore to woo Mr Murdoch, reports of politicians kowtowing to News Corp have lost all power to shock. What is new – and what, surely, ought to have given Mr Hunt pause for thought – is the emerging evidence that the company has been run as a law unto itself.

After years of denials, supine Press Complaints Commission oversight and an odd reticence on the part of the police, the truth has very slowly asserted its power in the phone-hacking scandal. Dozens of detectives have been looking into the dealings of just one Murdoch paper, there are multiple lawsuits involving politicians as well as celebrities, and the News Corp board has made an unprecedented admission of guilt. With a handful of arrests already made, and with live questions remaining about whether the men and women at the top could be charged under Section 79 of the Regulation of Investigatory Powers Act, any cabinet minister worth their salt would be desperate to keep their distance from this company if it were in any other line of business. It is true that no charges have yet been pressed, and so it is proper for ministers to be cautious. Being cautious, however, would have meant passing the file to the Competition Commission. Instead, Mr Hunt clung on to it and justified this by devising special arrangements to secure the editorial independence of Sky News, wilfully disregarding the Murdoch record in thwarting safeguards for past acquisitions, from the Times to the Wall Street Journal.

Confronted with News Corp's awesome power, Mr Hunt has made it more powerful still. The web movement Avaaz is marshalling dissent from the margins. But within the mainstream, ever more voices must answer to a single empire, and democracy will pay the price.