This question begins in America, with Jon Stewart's first – and last – appearance on CNN's 'Crossfire' programme. Indeed, it was one of the last appearances made by anyone on the show in its long-running format – it was cancelled as a result of the fallout from Stewart's appearance. Live on air, he used his appearance to accuse Crossfire of 'hurting America' with its take on US politics. What Stewart was referring to was the established means of 'doing politics' on TV, where Beltway insiders of both parties (and never anyone from outside the big two) would score points against each other, interpreting the politics of the day as though it were an amusing parlour game at best.

Stewart visibly struck a nerve with the show's presenters, and his remarks struck a chord with the American public and the more forward-looking members of the US broadcasting community. Once someone had come out and said it, everyone could admit that, actually, Crossfire was a farcical excuse for political debate; not merely annoying, but actively harmful to the existence of informed and intelligent understanding of the issues. Whatever one thinks about politicians – and I personally think that we're all entitled to poke a lot of fun at them – there does come a point where we have to question why our media seems incapable of taking issues seriously.

This leads me neatly on to the BBC. Thursday night's election coverage was, by popular opinion within the group of people who actually bothered to watch, pretty dire, on the whole. Particular ire has been directed at the sequences involving Jeremy Vine, whose attempts to out-do Peter Snow lead to him prancing about holding pictures of Mr Bean (in a tired re-run of Vince Cable's original joke which, funny as it was, has surely passed its sell-by date), attempting a dreadful imitation of a 'cowboy' accent for a sequence that apparently had something to do with Nick Clegg, and generally making a prize arse of himself in front of a bewildered nation and a bemused studio panel.

The one innovation that the BBC introduced for the coverage that didn't fall flat on its face was the decision to include a panel of bloggers to give some input. OK, at this point I have to admit that 'political blogger being in favour of more influence for political bloggers' is one possible interpretation of my argument, but I hope that it's not taken that way as that's certainly not how it's meant. And it was the inclusion of the bloggers which did allow the closest thing the BBC will probably ever allow to a Crossfire moment – when Alix Mortimer was able to repeat, live on air, the comments that the viewers had made regarding Jeremy Vine's antics. Emily Maitlis moved the debate on swiftly, but the point was made.

Admittedly, it was hardly on a par with Jon Stewart's Crossfire appearance. A few seconds of criticism of the BBC was allowed before we were off to another inane feature or unenlightening interview. But it got me thinking, and it might have got a few other people thinking too: “Hang on, I always thought that I was the only one who really hated this stuff, but if other people do too then maybe the BBC should do something about it”. And it's not just election night coverage. Many of the criticisms of Crossfire also apply across the range of the BBC's political output – the insiderness, the reliance on canned confrontation between partisans, the belief that a bit of verbal sparring can create an informed public debate, the ever-increasing dependence on gimmicks – these are features of almost every flagship BBC programme. We have long passed the point at which serious analysis of football matches is easier to come by on the BBC than serious analysis of a political issue. The level of insight and debate, not to mention the seriousness of its conduct, on “The Apprentice – You're Fired” exceeds anything you'll see on “This Week”. “The Daily Politics” is pretty atrocious too, and sometimes there doesn't even seem to be an attempt to hide it. Question Time is OK (and, funnily enough, the QT immediately before the election coverage was actually rather good), but the standard varies depending on how good the selection of panellists is. The worst part of it all is that people like Andrew Neil are perfectly capable of doing in-depth, thoughtful interviews (such as his Straight Talk series on News 24) but seem to end up fronting contrived, dull or clichéd shows. I can only assume that this is what the BBC thinks we want to see; we have to make it clear that it is wrong.

My point is this: much of the BBC's political programming has now become actively harmful to political debate. It's a shame that Jeremy Vine is getting the stick for this, as he seems like a decent enough bloke whose main crime is simply a willingness to do what's asked of him even if it's a bit stupid, but his election night appearances really do sum up what's wrong with the BBC. The reliance on gimmicks and ludicrous metaphors has reached the point where it makes no sense: the metaphors serve to confuse more than they enlighten, surely a sign that something has gone badly wrong somewhere.

My hope is that the reaction from the blogosphere will serve to strengthen those who think that the BBC can, and should, do a hell of a lot better when covering politics. The time has come for the emperor to realise that he's not wearing any clothes and, frankly, we don't want to see a naked emperor prancing about on our TV screens.