I'm currently experiencing the apprehension of a new stage in my career and the possibility that the past may come back to haunt me. From next week I will be giving up news anchoring and devoting myself to editing in the newsroom. Until now I've never been afraid to step on people's toes but so far the "strongly worded advice" that I've often dished out to my colleagues has always been compromised by the fact that noone has ever been forced to take what I say seriously. So only now have I realised how much more comforting it is to not have real responsibility.

In the end it all happened so quickly. It'd been months that I and a small group of like-minded colleagues had been discussing and debating - but mostly despairing - at the situation here at Press TV and in recent months it had got into our heads that the only way to get something done about it was to take proposals right to the top.

The CEO became an almost mythical figure for me. I had never met him but he was the divine force that was to reach down from above and turn my world into the utopia that I'd been praying for for so long. I delayed it and delayed it - until I myself had taken on a kind of totemic presence in the newsroom. Writers with a grievance, producers on the brink of resigning, anchors at wit's end - talk to Will, he's going to see the CEO. I was the chosen one, It was I who was to climb the mountain to the fifth floor office.

And on Tuesday I finally did it. There he was, dressed in a simple green turtleneck, smaller than I thought but with a tightly-knitted brow that said "get to the point". I'll admit it was partly deliberate that I let some of the last few months pent up emotion rise to the surface. But at the same time it wasn't an easy job trying to channel the constantly potent cocktail of frustration, rage, disillusionment, and indeed hope, that pumps through my veins every shift into a quiet chat with the boss. I allowed my voice to stammer as a token of the intensity of my emotion.

So when he brushed me off with "it'll get better", "things are already changing" and "there's nothing we can do about that for the time being" I started to question my faith in God's omnipotence and omniscience. But then he asked me for concrete proposals. If you think things are so bad what do you think we can change.

And the idea which he had actioned within 48 hours of my suggesting it was this. Take me off the screen and put me on the editorial desk. Give me (and one similar-minded colleague) license to tear apart the crummy texts that pass for news on Press TV, tear into the writers who think the art of journalism is copy-pasting from the wires and basically be a force for good in the newsroom, encouraging, criticising, guiding, training, assessing, initiating, actioning, following up - all those businessy things that pro-active professionals are meant to do.

But that's where the uncertainty now lies. Now that I have a measure of power, I'm waiting to meet the resistance. Noone took any notice of me when I was just the anchor who was hard to please. Just the few conscientious ones who could tell I had something constructive to offer. It was only they who really took any notice of my attempts to try to make the world a better place. Now that I've been given authority I have to learn how to use it.