Earlier this year, as part of the Armed Forces Parliamentary Scheme, I had the privilege of visiting the Army’s 77th Brigade — the unit specialising in information operations and psychological defence. Their mission is stark: countering the rising tide of disinformation, much of it Russian in origin, designed to weaken trust in our institutions and, ultimately, in one another. During our visit to Newbury, experts explained that people in the UK are exposed to tens of thousands of false or misleading messages every single day. Some are blatant fabrications; others are half-truths, manipulated headlines or carefully edited videos. But the strategic aim is always the same: to corrode faith in the things that bind us together as a national community. Since 1927, one of those binding forces has been our national broadcaster. The BBC is far from perfect — few institutions are — and it has made serious missteps. But nearly a century after receiving its first Royal Charter, it continues to offer something increasingly rare: a shared national culture.

Whether it’s Strictly, a Gavin and Stacey Christmas Special or The Traitors, the BBC still generates moments we experience together as a country.

Take The Traitors finale a few weeks ago. Millions of us watched Joe Marler’s dramatic downfall, gripping sofas across Britain as the “faithfuls” turned on their own. For one evening, we were a genuinely collective audience — laughing, gasping, posting online, and talking about it the next morning. That is what shared culture feels like.

But too often today, it can feel as though we are each living our own version of The Traitors — trying to work out what is true and what is false; what is fact and what is invention. Mis- and disinformation, amplified by “blue-tick” bots across Facebook, X and TikTok, exploit the openness of our democracy by setting us against one another and undermining the institutions that unify and define us. The BBC was founded on three simple aims: to inform, educate and entertain. It still does all three. It remains the most widely accessed source of news in the UK — and one of the most trusted. And its work extends far beyond our shores. During my PhD research, I spent time in rural India and Latin America studying how the BBC World Service brings reliable information to communities that might otherwise never receive it. Its audience has only grown since.

Today, the World Service reaches 418 million people each week — including 24 million in Iran, where the Persian Service grew by 38 per cent last year despite being banned by the regime. The BBC is recognised as the world’s most trusted news provider.

Here at home, we should never take that role for granted. Trusted information is the foundation of democracy. When that trust is eroded — when we stop believing what is true, and turn on the institutions that hold us together — we leave ourselves dangerously exposed to those who wish Britain harm.

We should hold the BBC to the highest, toughest standards. We should demand transparency, fairness and accountability — and expect swift correction when mistakes occur. But we should also defend it.

Because in an age of division and disinformation, the BBC remains one of the few institutions reminding us that we are still — despite our occasional differences — one United Kingdom, with a shared culture, commonly held values, and the ability to speak to the world with a single, trusted voice.