It feels as though Manchester United are trapped in a perpetual doom-loop, so haunted by their litany of recent failures that they can no longer conceive of a way out. Michael Carrick is morphing before our eyes into Ole Gunnar Solskjaer Mk II, turning his elevation to the “permanent” head coach’s role into a one-way ticket to oblivion. 

Noussair Mazraoui is such a delicate flower that he decides he can only cope with a squally autumnal evening in the Italian Lakes by wearing leggings. That is before you look at the bench, where quite frankly you have to cover your eyes. If Joshua Zirkzee represents the answer, then you hate to think what the question might be.

We should be shocked at seeing a club of United’s pedigree out-thought and outmanoeuvred by opponents who were in the fourth tier of Italian football in 2019. But this humiliation by Como holds up a mirror to an embarrassing gulf in attitude, ambition and boardroom vision. Where the home side, making their Champions League debut, have invested heavily at every level under the Indonesian billionaire Hartono brothers, United in the age of Ineos and the dreaded Glazers have become a study in complacency and sclerotic leadership. This lopsided result had its roots in two vastly different club cultures.

Carrick’s display of contrition at the final whistle, trudging over to United’s fans and throwing his hands up to acknowledge his players’ ineptitude, seemed too little, too late. These supporters sought not fatalism, but some measure of defiance during the match itself. Instead, the difference in body language between the two managers created an instructive touchline drama. Where Cesc Fàbregas was all manic energy and coiled intent, Carrick just looked faintly bewildered, stroking his beard in the manner of a philosopher wrestling with life’s most fiendish conundrums.

In fairness, he has inherited the mother of all quagmires at United. Casting your eye across his starting line-up here, you noticed not a cohesive unit but a piecemeal sequence of experiments under four different managers. Harry Maguire? The link to Solskjaer, who made him captain. Matthijs de Ligt? A member of the former Ajax coterie brought over by Erik ten Hag. Bryan Mbeumo? A striker who only joined after being persuaded by the wacky methods of Ruben Amorim. Youri Tielemans? He, at least, was recruited specifically for Project Carrick. The problem is that when thrown together against Como, they were all – with the possible exception of Tielemans – as hapless as each other.

As sure as night follows day, this mortifying experience will give way to endless melodrama about the manager. Carrick will be bombarded by intrigue about potential replacements, with Antonio Conte’s name already gaining traction. But this tiresome parlour game neglects deep-seated problems at United. Ever since Sir Alex Ferguson’s retirement in 2013, the place has been a talent vortex, buying players at their fullest bloom and spitting them out as raddled husks. From Paul Pogba to Anthony Martial, Jadon Sancho to Marcus Rashford, the list is as drawn-out as it is damning. While Ineos was expected to restore stability after acquiring minority ownership in 2023, the systemic decline has accelerated under its stewardship.

For all his brilliance and ruthlessness as a businessman, Sir Jim Ratcliffe has yet to convince that he has any feel for football. Just look at the performance of Ineos’s other prize assets this season: Lausanne-Sport lie 12th in the 12-team Swiss top flight after one win in 10, and Nice are a distant 13th in Ligue 1, having burnt through eight different managers during the petrochemical giant’s seven years in charge. United, where the majority of the Ineos brains trust’s efforts have been concentrated, might be the biggest basket case of all. The club have made their worst start to a season since 1986, tumbling out of the Carabao Cup and finding themselves closer to the Premier League relegation zone than the top four. It is in Europe, though, that the true scale of the malaise is exposed.

United secured an unenviable distinction in Como of being the first team to concede in the opening two minutes of consecutive European matches. Such carelessness has proved a recipe for dysfunction at every level. Where Lisandro Martínez reacted to the horror start at Atlético Madrid by blaming the board, claiming he expected more “from the top”, Bruno Fernandes channelled the frustrations in northern Italy into arguing that his team were insufficiently inclined to press man to man. While it is never a healthy image for a side to be populated by professional malcontents, Martínez undoubtedly had a point.

Jason Wilcox’s success rate as United’s director of football has been nothing short of abysmal, but still his job, unlike Carrick’s, appears under little direct threat. Amorim stood up to him and swiftly paid the price. His successor appears to be headed for the same fate, and it is by no means all his fault. Wilcox gave the impression of only half-wanting Carrick to be the manager and proceeded only to half back him in the transfer market, securing just three major summer signings as opposed to the requisite five or six. On Wednesday, thanks to the latest nadir in United’s interminable slide, a bitter harvest is laid bare.