I may be agnostic, but I'm not indifferent

'My strategy for religion is easy: make terrific programmes'

For a few weeks last autumn, EastEnders was the best religious programme on television. As Ethel lay dying, afraid that her pain would become unbearable, she begged her friend Dot to help her to end her life. But Dot was a devout Catholic. To assist a suicide was a sin. The dilemma between what her faith had taught her and what her friend was asking tortured Dot. It made for moving, memorable drama. This was the stuff of Graham Greene, on primetime BBC 1.

EastEnders was just one of the programmes I cited to demonstrate the BBC's enduring commitment to issues of faith and morality when I was appointed head of religion and ethics last week. I also championed The Moral Maze, which for me embodies radio's special gift for blending intelligence with intimacy. And Songs of Praise, approaching its 40th birthday fresher than ever.

But the tornado of media interest in my appointment centred on one thing: the fact that I'm an agnostic, undecided about the existence of God. It counted for little that I've worked on a range of high-profile TV programmes on religious topics, among them a pro- file of Pope John Paul II and a series on missionaries.

No, the sticking-point, and my sudden newsworthiness, was my lack of faith. Some religious groups were outright hostile. Most offered, fairly, to wait and judge me by results. Perversely, by far the most rabid reaction came from a non-believer, Simon Jenkins in The Times. Here, he raged, was a tell-tale sign of the death of conviction and enthusiasm in the public sector.

The issue boils down to this. If I lack the perspective that faith provides, can I effectively lobby for worship programmes and credibly oversee everything from "Thought for the Day" to Everyman?

The simple answer is, yes. If there's a problem, it's a misunderstanding about the word agnostic. To many it seems to suggest a void where faith should be, a sense that if we can't ever know for certain about God, why bother looking? And so when I describe myself as "open-hearted,'' people mistake it for "half-hearted". When I say I don't know, the assumption is I don't care.

I see it differently. For me, agnosticism means being on a continuing journey. Driving that journey is the conviction, which believers share, that there are more important things in life than the material world. It also means admiring, perhaps even envying, those to whom faith gives meaning, purpose and identity. And, above all, it means asking the profound questions that first inspired humanity to turn to religion – how we were created, how we should deal with suffering and face death, how we should respond to the moral frailty of human beings, how to find peace and self-knowledge as individuals, and how to bond with others into communities.

My point is that uncertainty should not be confused with indifference. On the contrary, if you have not been blessed with the gift of faith and the reassurance it offers, the search for meaning is all the more urgent.

Which is why I reckon Simon Jenkins is so wide of the mark. He claims that being an agnostic means I must believe in nothing "beyond the next meeting". My lack of faith condemns me to being a grey strategy man, a dinosaur in a suit (pity my tailor!). Lazy logic, surely. OK, I may be unsure about God, but that doesn't stop me believing many things with a passion – that tolerance and generosity lie at the heart of any civilised society, or that children should be brought up with a respect for truth and justice, and a love of learning.

And at the BBC, agnosticism doesn't stop me enthusing like crazy about a quite different faith – a secular, professional devotion to ambitious, quality programmes that move, challenge or delight the audience, and a belief in radio and television that connects with the deeper realities of life.

That's where Dot and Ethel come in. Thanks to them, my strategy for religion and ethics is easy to write. It's just three words long: make terrific programmes.

The writer is head of religion and ethics at the BBC