Those who hoped that the records relating to Black Wednesday would be a sensational account of a prime minister breaking down, a chancellor cracking up or senior civil servants heading to the window ledge on the seventh floor before being coaxed back are destined to be disappointed. The documents released yesterday are instead a sober reflection on what went wrong, how much it cost and the lessons that might be learnt from the dire episode. This is important material but it serves largely to reinforce what was already suspected rather than provide a radically original analysis of events. That it is in the public domain is welcome.

The nine separate files placed on the Treasury website make for a consistent story. It is a tale of ministers pressing for membership of the exchange-rate mechanism for reasons which had more to do with short-term politics and foreign policy than long-term economics. The impossibility of discerning an “ideal” value for the pound is conceded, as are the limits on any government in resisting the money markets. If a film were to be made from this script it might well be entitled It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time.

It is still relevant to our time. If the preferences of 10 Downing Street had been heeded in 2003, Britain would have moved towards joining the euro in a similarly haphazard and economically incoherent fashion. The results could have been yet more catastrophic as monetary union, unlike the ERM, does not come with an ejector seat as a standard feature. The euro is not likely to be a significant factor at the next general election. It would be wise, nevertheless, especially in the light of this disclosure, for the Prime Minister to be quizzed closely on his intentions.

The arrival of this data was brought forward by a farcical error. A Treasury official, rather overzealously interpreting the spirit of the Freedom of Information Act, managed to e-mail to the BBC the internal guidance as to what should be held back from the public. Most of these exceptions appeared to be reasonable. It was, however, faintly risible that, due to Treasury incompetence, sections that had been excluded on the basis that they were “private conversations with foreign officials” ended up being revealed anyway.

The implementation of this Act needs to be improved, and improvements must include depoliticisation of the process. As we reported last week, publication of these papers was delayed after Sir Andrew Turnball, the Cabinet Secretary, alerted John Major and Lord Lamont of Lerwick to their impending airing. Irrespective of whether his decision, which followed established precedent, triggered serious irritation in the Treasury, it is today evident that neither the former Prime Minister nor the ex-Chancellor ever sought to censor the documents. That fact should be acknowledged.

The early days of the Act have, unfortunately, coincided with an intensification of the pre-election campaign. All sides have sought to find files that will embarrass their rivals. This has not been an attractive spectacle and there is a danger that the supreme importance of public access to government documents will not be recognised by officials or politicians seeking to expose these items in the quest for cheap political points.

These new records are an absorbing assessment of Black Wednesday. But let us hope that the farce and mystery that has accompanied their release is, like the ERM crisis, not repeated.