Dear Mark Tully: Your resignation is ill timed and pointless. Please go back to telling us about India. We miss you already, says a fellow journalist

I'm sad. We've all used that word, nobs and names and now me - a fan. We're sad that such a distinguished journalist should resign after 30 years, amid already well aired accusations of poor management, lack of communication and low morale. I'm sad about the gagging clause, but none of us is truly free to criticise publicly those who employ us. If we do, we know that someone is eventually going to say shut up or go.

I fear your resignation is ill-timed and pointless, so I thought I'd dash off this note in the hope that you might change your mind.

It's ill-timed because we, the licence payers, have had enough of BBC-bashing. Now that the charter has been renewed for 10 more years we are looking forward to you guys getting back to delivering the news, not making it.

And it's pointless because there are enough people here in London doing the whingeing. A few weeks ago I attended a lecture by John Tusa who savaged management techniques in general and the BBC's use of them in particular. It was provocative stuff. Why not leave it to Tusa? He's been a manager (you haven't) and he's here in London (you're not). Don't you see, there are already enough men outside the tent pissing in. You don't need to join them.

Look, Mark, folk around here are saying that you've been away, far away, too long to have a clear idea what is happening here, and that is bound to affect your credibility. Out there in India I fear you've been got at by the disaffected. And in my experience there's nothing to compare with a BBC employee on the rant. All journalists whinge, but a Beeb man . . .

I was invited to join Newsnight in 1987. On my first day a senior producer expressed amazement that I should be tempted to move from print when many at the BBC would kill to move the other way. 'You'd have loved it here, five, 10 years ago, but not now. . .' Yes, I spent my first hour listening to one of those naff golden-age speeches. And it only got worse.

John Birt had hardly cleared his throat and already the mood was pathetic; people wasting their energy backbiting, bitching, undermining each other and being vindictive. One guy told me he'd only be happy when White City was razed to the ground.

What's it all about? The age of negativism. Out of the age of deference (you remember that, Mark?) came the age of questioning and out of the age of questioning has come the age of negativism. Nowadays if you praise a person or a policy you are a toady. Where's the balance? Well, balance is too bland, isn't it? It doesn't get you half-page articles in Sunday newspapers (plus a moody picture).

Couldn't you, please, go back to doing what you do so well - telling us about India. We miss you already.

And finally . . . Birt's a silly bunny if he accepts your resignation.

Yours devotedly, Linda Christmas

(Photograph omitted)