The BBC is an infuriating organisation: powerful, introspective, arrogant, imperial, insulated from the pressures of the commercial world. Its resemblance to a Central African republic, with frequent revolutions, governments in exile (Alistair Milne, John Tusa, Paul Fox) and regular regime change (three of the last four directors-general have been overthrown, with the fourth, John Birt, escaping by the width of an Armani seam) is clear. It would have been even more marked if only Alastair Campbell had succeeded in his desire to have Greg Dyke’s body dangled from the front of Broadcasting House.

So why not take the advice of Richard D. North and scrap it? The problem with that solution is that the BBC is still, and by a considerable margin, the best radio, television and online broadcaster in the world. It continually makes or commissions programmes in all genres — drama, comedy, current affairs, news — that are really good — not all of the time, maybe not even most of the time, but more of the time than any other broadcaster.

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