Researchers in Oxford, Cambridge and Sydney (or Oxbridney, as this new elite triumvirate will surely come to be called), have identified serotonin - which regulates mood change in humans - as the “the biological key that transforms locusts from solitary and antisocial insects into marauding swarms”, revealed a report in The Times yesterday.

“Levels rise when locusts are jostled and become gregarious”, the report says, going on to explain that the behavioural change “can be stopped with chemicals that block the action of serotonin,” and encouraging the development of, “sprays that convert swarming locusts back into solitary insects, which would not present such a threat to crops”.

Suddenly, I feel an empathetic bond with our friends the locusts. I do not propose to explore the rights and wrongs of spraying the little perishers with Prozac (or other serotonin reuptake inhibitors) - I guess pretty much anything is permissible in the struggle against famine. But I cannot help being charmed to discover that their gregariousness or otherwise is so conditional. Because, like, whose isn't?

If I were a locust I don't think I would ever swarm. I'd be one of those locusts poking about in the kitchen for a bit of pitta bread and taramasalata, and asking if anyone had a number for a cab firm. If I were a locust and my best mate came round to say that the lads were gearing up for a big day out on the swarm, I think I might have a conversation that went very much like this:

First Locust: Come on, we're going to swarm.

Second Locust: No, I'm not in the mood.

FL: What do you mean “not in the mood”? You're a locust.

SL: Not today, I'm not.

FL: Not today?

SL: No. Locusts, as you well know, are the swarming phase of short-horned grasshoppers of the family acrididae. And I, personally, am in no phase to swarm.

FL (making lewd pelvic thrusting gesture): There's nothing “short-horned” about me.

SL: And anyway Casualty's on. And then it's Strictly Come Chirruping.

FL: You're such a drag. You always say this and then you know perfectly well that you have a great time when we get there. We're going down Mali. Some villagers have finally managed to get a maize crop together and we're gonna go mental. It'll be the most fun we've had since Ethiopia.

SL: You said that about that party last week in Hendon.

FL: Well, that was a mistake on my part. I've said sorry.

SL: That was sooo embarrassing.

FL: I know. I've said -

SL: Big Jewish family sitting down to Passover dinner, just getting to the bit where they recite the ten plagues: “murrain, boils, hail, loc-” when suddenly there's a knock on the door, and two locusts standing there, bottle of Ernest and Julio Gallo in one hand, me in my bloody reindeer horns...

FL: Mali will be different, I promise. Everyone will be there. It was on Facebook.

SL: Facebook? Oh no! It'll be full of crashers from Manchester.

FL: There'll be girls.

SL: I never know what to say to girls.

FL: You don't “say” anything you just... (makes lewd pelvic thrusting gesture again).

SL: Look I don't fancy it. It's cold. And my coat's at the dry-cleaners.

FL: That hottie from down the road is going to be there.

SL (looking briefly interested, but then becoming crestfallen again): Really? I heard she was seeing someone.

FL: That asshole cicada? He's not in your league, pal. This is your chance to get back in there.

SL: No, no. I'll only look desperate. And anyway I feel like I need a bit of “me” time.

FL: “Me time”? For heaven's sake. Have you been at the serotonin reuptake inhibitors again?

SL: What if I have? It just levels out the highs and lows. I'm still me. I never liked swarming. Not even when I was a kid.

FL: Oh come off it. Remember that time when we swarmed in Egypt?

SL: No.

FL: Come on, course you do. Back in the first Summer of Love, 1447BC. Ah, those days. When the pills were pure, and a swarm was a swarm. Exodus x, 12, or thereabouts, I forget exactly: “And the Lord said unto Moses, Stretch out thine hand over the land of Egypt for the locusts that they may come up upon the land of Egypt, and eat every herb of the land.”

SL: If Moses told you to put your hand in the fire, would you do that?

FL: Yes, actually. It would probably be like that burning bush, and not even hot. Come on, you must remember. It was the best party ever. We went up over all the land of Egypt, and rested in all the coasts of Egypt. Before us there were no such locusts, neither after us were such.

We covered the whole face of the Earth, guy, so that the land was darkened; and we did eat every herb of the land, and all the fruit of the trees which the hail had left: and there remained not any green thing in the trees, or in the herbs of the field, through all the land of Egypt.

SL: And do you remember how rough you felt in the morning? It was me who had to hold your hair back while you puked, and bring you peppermint tea all day and make you beans on toast. I never did like that Moses

FL: I loved him. He was the Leader of the Gang.

SL: So was Gary Glitter.

FL: Well, look, do as you please. You can sit about moping all day about your crappy life. Or you can get out there and get on it. The lads will be really pleased to see you. And I promise, if it's rubbish we'll come straight home again?

SL: You promise?

FL: I promise.

SL: Are you going to drive?

FL: Er, probably not. I was planning on having a few drinks.

SL: Oh God, not the bus? I hate the bus. And coming home it's all full of drunks and crackheads and stabby teenagers.

FL: OK, OK. I'll drive.

SL: I'll go and iron a shirt, then. God, why do I let you get me into these things? I tell you, if there are crop sprayers I will go bloody mental on you. I will.

Times Recommends

• Graveyard of empires could claim more careers
• Would you live on the wrong side of the Berlin Wall?
• At last we’re getting our heads out of the sand