Television - A flagship programme risks getting the wrong make-over. By Andrew Billen Panorama: Taken on Trust (BBC1)

Once upon a really long time ago, there was something called the Panorama problem - although this was something of a misnomer, because it was really the Robin Day problem. There he would be, every week, striding through the title sequence in time to the thumpy music. But after that, unless there was a politician to grill, there was nothing much left for him to do, and he looked grumpy and out of place introducing younger men's work. The asset, as Richard Lindley recorded in his history of the programme, had become a liability. Eventually he left, and Alastair Burnet, David Dimbleby and Robert Kee succeeded him into the chair before the concept of presenter was abolished altogether.

At the end of last month, the Guardian got hold of an internal BBC discussion document, written by the head of development, Colin Savage, which suggested that Panorama needed to recruit two new presenters, Jeremy Paxman and Fiona Bruce. Paxman would not be a bad idea, as it is pretty rum that, from one election to the next, the BBC's best television interviewer is seen only on BBC2. But the suggestion that Bruce, whose severe eyebrows hold a disquieting allure for a certain type of English male, is the answer to the current Panorama problem indicates that the cure might well be worse than the ailment.

The kind of programme Bruce would introduce, the leaked document went on to suggest, would be "more accessible and enjoyable" and "more contemporary both in its appearance and its behaviour". It would move from an "image of distant informer to that of active agent". The staff would change, too. They would be "warm, intelligent, accessible reporters - fewer, bigger [sic], brighter". Programmes could be linked to "issues" discussed in EastEnders. These changes would earn Panorama a place back in prime time, namely 8.30pm on a Monday night, near enough to its historical 8pm start time. Wonderful. The only problem is, it would no longer be Panorama. In all but name, Bruce would be introducing a second edition of her tabloidy series Real Story.

The Panorama staff, who have lived since 2000 with the indignity of occupying the old Joan Bakewell God slot on Sunday nights, are furious. Well they might be. In recent years, the programme has trans-mitted the odd incoherent studio debate and one silly film about the link between Hollywood movies and 9/11, but most of the reports I've seen have been thoroughly researched, imaginatively produced and, often, important.

The investigation screened on 3 October, a 60-minute special subtitled Taken on Trust, was a case in point. It followed on from two previous editions of the programme about allegations that a minority of users of the antidepressant Seroxat become prone to suicidal thoughts, self-harm and suicide. There is also evidence that the drug is addictive - although, un- til last year, its own instruction leaflet assured customers it was not.

The new programme revealed further evidence that suggested the drug should not be prescribed to children - and perhaps not to young adults, either. As worryingly, it produced a strong case that the prescription drugs regulator, the Medicines and Healthcare products Regulatory Agency (MHRA), had been dilatory in investigating complaints against it stretching back 13 years. It took the research summaries of Seroxat's manufacturer, GlaxoSmithKline, on trust. It did not follow up "yellow card" reports submitted by concerned doctors and did not, apparently, think to look on the internet, where thousands of worrying reports on side effects are posted. In a substantial minority of cases, Seroxat produces iatrogenic symptoms. I suggest the regulator look up the word if it is not quite sure what it means.

"Criticisms of Panorama would revolve around the four Ds - that it is too distant, demanding, difficult and didactic," wrote Savage in his commissioning brief prepared for the BBC's head of current affairs, Peter Horrocks. This makes the job of TV criticism rather easy. Was Taken on Trust distant? No, its interviews with those suffering from the drug's side effects and with the parents of a young man they believe was killed by it were moving and empathetic. It further humanised its subject by featuring two beleaguered whistle-blowers: Richard Brook, the chief executive of Mind, who resigned in disgust from the latest MHRA review into Seroxat; and another doctor, David Healy, who claims to have been smeared by the drug industry since his original contributions to the Panorama investigation.

Demanding? It demanded answers of the regulator-in-chief, the distant and didactic Professor Sir Alasdair Breckenridge - though I suspect the writer was using "demanding" tautologically as a synonym for "difficult", which, thanks to the clarity of the programme's storytelling, it actually wasn't. Didactic? Well, yes, it had an argument and pressed it: is this a problem? As for the idea that Panorama lacks "warm, intelligent and accessible" reporters, I won't embarrass the reporter on this story, Shelley Jofre, beyond saying that she was all those things.

What would be the worst that would happen if Panorama were returned to 8pm on Monday nights? A low audience share. But there, every week, as it went out against the often fatuous Tonight With Trevor McDonald, would be the clearest possible exposition of what the BBC meant by public service broadcasting. The Panorama "problem" is a figment of the imagination of the BBC chairman. The BBC has no shareholders or advertisers to mollify, only politicians and licence-fee payers who sometimes wonder what it is for. He should announce that BBC1 is prepared to surrender one prime-time slot a week and stand by its charter remit.

Andrew Billen is a staff writer on the Times

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