WHILE the stupidity of the individual should never be overlooked, for acts of sheer gormlessness, you really need a group. Specifically, you need a group of men.

Maybe it's that competitive urge that outstrips all common sense or self-control, but no-one can talk themselves into doing increasingly stupid things like a gang of blokes.

Put it this way, who do you think came up with the idea for Jackass: a couple of women TV producers, or a few chaps down the pub?

Actually, I have no idea, but I know what's most likely.

When men gather together, and an outlandish suggestion is made, there's a moment I like to call the The Mockery-Acceptance Gap. In other words, there's a point where it could still go either way.

We are, after all, pack animals at heart. If someone says, for instance: "Let's have a snowball fight on the roof of the Echo building!" his colleagues will muse for a moment before responding.

Should the first response be: "That's a pants idea," or something similarly derogatory, then his fellows will spurn the plan and fall to mocking the poor unfortunate for daring to breach it in the first place.

However, should the first reply be along the lines of "great, I know where they keep the key!" then the idea is likely to become accepted and acted upon. Unless someone suggest building a snowman as well. Anyway, this has all got a bit anthropological, when all I wanted to do was explain why half the men in our office (and a couple of women) have pledged to grow moustaches next month.

You'll be aware, I'm sure, that our editor threw down the gauntlet last Monday, calling on Echo staff to cultivate their upper lip for charity.

And while individually we'd no doubt have decided to leave him to his Tony Ferrino-like fate, collectively there's a sudden surge of interest.

Of course, you could just argue we're a charitable lot, but don't kid yourself that we're in it for the good causes.

No, now it's a competition, a bid to see who can look less stupid, sinister, or suspiciously camp than his fellows.

Also, there's a bit of a fascination among men about growing our facial hair. After all, it's one of the things our sex can do that the other can't (although my great aunt had a fair try). Just knowing that we could be bewhiskered if we wanted makes us feel a bit more macho inside.

And so we have people pledging to imitate the 'taches of David Niven, Jimmy Edwards, Fu Manchu, and (worryingly) Adolf Hitler.

My money, however, is on the whole office looking like a casting session for a Village People tribute band...