By the law of any self-respecting jungle, it was jolly peculiar behaviour - but given that you are all at liberty to pretend that you have never once watched the show, I had better start with a recap of Tuesday night on I'm a Celebrity... Get Me Out of Here! One of the tropically stranded contestants was striding through the undergrowth when she happened upon another, newly arrived contestant slouching in the speckled green gloom. Now, these women had apparently never met - unless television was fibbing to us, which we know it would never do.

Nevertheless, as their gazes met, they fell into each others' arms in a prolonged and loving, full-bodied hug.

If you think that is a slightly weird overreaction, this is weirder still: the ladies' dramatic intimacy came only days after a study from Manchester Metropolitan University claimed that we do not hug each other enough; one psychologist, David Holmes, pronounced: “Britain has forgotten how to hug. No one does it any more.” To which I can but protest that Dr Holmes does not live in the Britain that I do - for here in Sarlertown hugging has reached epidemic proportions of physical intrusion.

It is as if, irritated by confusion over the number of cheek kisses and which side do you start to avoid bumping noses, the whole hog has become the easier option. Women have always hugged women (especially, one must note, when there are men around to notice), then gay men started hugging each other, in calculated public gestures of “pride”. Metrosexual men, not to be left behind, took up hugging their chums as long-lost brothers and now, perhaps inevitably, men hug women too, usually upon greeting and often with a second grab upon departure - even if they have met but once or twice before.

Huge, suffocating wraps of a more-or-less stranger's muscle, flab, sweat and cologne enfold the frailer female physique; should they linger a little suspiciously too long, she hesitates to wriggle free lest it look churlish when, after all, he's only being friendly. Isn't he? The hug, in this context, is not raising the status or value of the recent acquaintanceship; it is an

impertinent charade of discomfort, an abuse of manners and, at worst, it devalues the wonderful thing that a proper hug may be when shared with your family - especially, obviously, your children - and very close friends.

Outside of one's truest inner circle, I should like to propose that hugs be applied to lesser-known companions only within the strict boundaries of three Cs: comfort, condolence or congratulations. Beyond that, should you ever come across me in some distant, witchetty-sodden jungle, a simple handshake and the presumption that I am indeed Dr Livingstone will suffice.

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