A VULNERABLE soul, in care, is subjected to abuse and cruel neglect. Her pleas for help are ignored, and by the time she reaches hospital it is too late; she dies in distress having undergone an amputation for the gangrene she had so often been told she was "making a fuss about". Another frail person is left without a front door for three months as a housing authority pursues payment for vandal damage before undertaking the repairs that would offer her some vital security.

Had such things happened to a child, each story would have made front-page news. Because the victims in both cases were elderly, these tales, published in Scotland in the past few days, were buried on the inside pages. At least they were printed, some might say. But for me they represent another illustration of an iniquity that should shame us all.

It is not just bad employers and insurance companies that exercise institutionalised ageism. It seems to be deeply rooted throughout our society, and the time has come to tackle it. Maybe it's because I am 48 and therefore little more than a decade short of women's traditional retirement age, but I find that I am becoming increasingly outraged at the way we treat our old people. It is just a pity it takes the spectre of the geriatric ward to inspire militancy and a declaration of war on such wanton disregard.
continued...

Last week it was reported that Pat Lally, one-time Labour lord provost of Glasgow, is to stand as a candidate for the next Scottish Senior Citizens' Unity Party (Scotland's pensioners' party) in the next Holyrood elections. The indomitable octogenarian, dubbed Lazarus because of his ability to keep rising from the political dead, said: "It wasn't until becoming a full-time pensioner I realised how little the voice of pensioners is heard, and there is nobody better placed than a pensioner to fight on behalf of the rights of other pensioners."

They should not have to do it alone. Because of modern advances in medical care, most of us can expect to join the pensioners' ranks, and we should all be doing all that we can to make sure that it's a more comfortable prospect.

Politicians such as Lally are well aware of the potential clout of the grey vote, and every party is hard at work soliciting its support. Right now, one in six of us is aged 65 or over, and within 30 years it will be one in four. For the first time ever, the over-60s outnumber the under-16s, but you would never guess it from the lack of prominence awarded issues affecting older people.

When England's drugs regulator refused to authorise cheap dementia treatments for people in the early stages of an age-related disease that is more common than heart attacks, strokes and cancer combined, there was a brief flurry of interest. Compare that with the intense coverage of high-profile decisions to force the prescription of expensive breast cancer drugs to younger women - lives deemed "worth saving".

Children's charities are awash with cash, and appeals for better hospital facilities for babies are sure-fire winners in the fundraising stakes. It is tragic that at the same time old people are abandoned on acute wards for months at a stretch and blithely described as bed-blockers because there is nowhere else to put them. Who cares? Well, I do. I wouldn't want to have to endure the treatment currently meted out to so many, mixed-sex wards among them.

Older people have been too often ignored and marginalised, stoically accepting of their apparently second-class status. That might have applied to pre-war generations, but it won't wash for long. The vanguard of the baby-boomers is advancing towards pensionable age (wherever that is set), and they are not renowned for going quietly.

I can understand the sense of vulnerability that might drive older people to keep quiet about their plight, fearing a backlash of accusations about being "a drain on resources", or part of a terrifying demographic "time-bomb". What they need is the vocal support of those of us they have helped to raise, and continue to support in so many ways.

In my experience, it is older people who contribute most to the development of society. It is they who volunteer to do the work that builds and maintains local communities, and it is they who invest in thinking for the future. At any public meeting about the NHS, for instance, the over-60s make up the vast majority of the audience. Perhaps it is because they use its services most, or because they have the time and experience to bring to bear, but they undoubtedly make a difference.

The widely welcomed Kerr report on the future of Scotland's health service would not have been the same without the input of the people (most of them pensioners) who took part in the debate. They helped to shape a national plan that envisages more care being delivered where people want it most: closer to their homes. The older people I encounter are engaged, informed, and open to new ways of improving everyone's lot. It is a mistake to underestimate their intelligence.

Yet that is what many continue to do. In the run-up to the elections, politicians such as Pat Lally will try to woo the older voter with soundbites they think will flick the silver switch. Many will involve scaremongering about young people, crime, and the antisocial behaviour that is physically separating the generations and further isolating the elderly. One of Lally's unique selling points is his antipathy towards what he calls "hospital centralisation", a trip-off-the-tongue distortion of the principles of the Kerr report that so many older Scots helped to create.

It is regrettable that one of their number should be so keen to perpetuate the stereotype of senior citizens as purple-permed reactionaries, fearful of change. That image is as out of date as the ageism it breeds, and it is up to all of us to challenge it - for our own sakes, if nothing else.