WHEN it comes to the new series of the BBC-set sitcom W1A, the list of potential storylines must by now stretch all the way from New Broadcasting House in London to Pacific Quay in Glasgow.

Reality is proving an especially fruitful source.

How about this lot, for example, as material to mine? Yesterday morning, a House of Commons committee, while generally laying into the BBC, concluded that its main source of funding, the licence fee, was becoming harder to justify and was likely on the way out. Later, a government minister reported to the Commons that one of the corporation's former stars, Jimmy Savile, had abused more than 60 patients and staff at Stoke Mandeville hospital. Earlier in the week, the BBC director-general was taken to task by another committee over the state of the toilets in New Broadcasting House and the unpleasant smells which greet visitors. Never mind The Archers becoming EastEnders in a field - another charge of which Auntie stands accused - the BBC seems to be sitting permanently in a cowpat of its own making.

First, cards on the table. I have worked for the BBC and on occasion I appear on it. Whether one works for the corporation or not, there can be few among us who cannot claim to be related to Auntie in some way. The BBC is an institution in the UK's public life in the same way as Whitehall, Westminster, and the weather. It is inescapable. It is in our homes, in our ears, on our computer screens. And if we do not pay for the privilege of accessing its services - currently £145.50 a year - we can be sent to jail. We are all, in the jargon of the corporation, stakeholders in the BBC. Which makes it all the more remarkable why so many seem so keen to drive a stake through the old girl's heart.

The Commons Culture, Media and Sport Committee did so both in sorrow and in anger, concluding that there were "major questions" to answer on how and why the BBC should be funded to the tune of £4 billion, and how it should operate in future. Among the committee's recommendations was decriminalising non-payment of the licence fee (and about time too); bringing in a broadcasting levy on all households; investigating a subscription service; and scrapping the chocolate fireguard that is the BBC Trust and establishing a new regulator. Inevitably, outrage over having to pay the licence fee has been replaced by fury at the notion of a general household levy, seen by some as a sort of poll tax for the telly. Good luck with that idea, then.

Overall, the impression given was of an organisation having to be cajoled into the 21st century. There are not many institutions that can make a Commons committee look go-ahead in comparison, but the BBC is one of them. But then again, poor old auntie has a season ticket to the dock of public opinion. When it is not the public having a go it is politicians. If you have any money left over after paying this week's licence fee instalment, you might like to invest in Pinkoes and Traitors, a history of the BBC from 1974-1987 by Jean Seaton. Among her revelations is that the Thatcher government was a hop, skip and an emergency protocol away from taking control of the BBC over what ministers saw as unfavourable coverage of the Falklands War. With the BBC, times change, angry viewers and listeners change - one decade it is irate Tories, the next disgruntled Yes supporters - but the general urge to have a go at the corporation remains seemingly eternal.

It has to be said that many of the bullets being fired at the BBC have been manufactured in house. Let us see, now. Leaving it to others to expose Savile; lavishing six figure severance deals on senior managers while keeping vast numbers of staff on low pay and short-term contracts; going after non-payers of the licence fee as if they were major criminals; broadcasting too many repeats and not enough original programming; using content generated by newspapers and not crediting the source; trying to have a finger in every pie - the list goes on and on. To this, those Yes supporters who demonstrated outside Pacific Quay last year during the independence referendum campaign would doubtless wish to add biased journalism.

The Pacific Quay protests demonstrated the sticky position in which the BBC increasingly finds itself. That so many turned out - the numbers were estimated at anywhere between several hundred to a couple of thousand -shows that viewers and listeners feel ownership of the BBC as surely as football fans do their clubs, or shareholders the companies in which they have invested. The protests also highlighted the fact that no matter how much the corporation bends over backwards to be fair and impartial (Nadia Comaneci herself would be tempted to award it a perfect 10 sometimes), it only takes one report, in one case from UK political editor Nick Robinson - for the cry of alleged bias to go up. Never mind that the entire basis of a free press and broadcasting service is that a multiplicity of views should be heard, from which readers and listeners can draw their own conclusions. With the BBC, if someone shouts loudly enough about something to which they personally object, the rent-a-mob hears the call and turns up with its banners, emails and telephone complaints. Call this what you will: democracy in action, bullying at work; it is rarely, if ever, an edifying sight.

John Whittingdale, chairman of the Commons committee that delivered its findings yesterday, had it about right when he said that the corporation had "tried for too long to be all things to all people". To put it another way, Auntie has had, and continues to have, a God complex, an abiding belief in its own infallibility. One can see how it happened. The BBC is A Good Thing. Scratch that - the BBC, at its best, is A Great Thing. Down the years it has done a superb job of educating, informing and entertaining the public. But it is no longer the only organisation doing so. In a multi-platform world no media organisation has a divine right to exist. While the BBC has not been short of battles to fight down the years - governments of every hue have sought to give the corporation a kicking - it lacks street fighting skills for the fray. When it is attacked, its instinct is to run for cover, to bluster, to have meetings about meetings. With the royal charter due for renewal next year, it can no longer stay on the back foot in this way.

The way back into the public good books need not be a long, winding one. It should start with dropping the God complex and embracing the notion that smaller, targeted and better is more beautiful than big, sprawling and scattergun. Do not be a stranger to listeners and viewers, auntie. Instead, be a pal again.