The public don’t seem to care about the elderly
People are happy to donate to help the young, animals and the sick, but neglect charities for older people
Silver Sunday is a glorious celebration of old age. I have attended the flagship event, the massive tea dance in the Great Room of the Grosvenor Hotel in London. The tea was delectable, but better still, police cadets had been recruited to dance with us all, the young mixing happily with the old in a way that is becoming increasingly rare.
We should celebrate old age like this more often. Maybe then the charities which work with older people would be better funded, more popular, and so more effective, instead of being, as I believe they are, the Cinderellas of the voluntary sector.
If you look at the nation’s top 10 most popular charities, you won’t find any mention of older people. Cancer, yes. Dogs, yes. The National Trust, yes. And they are terrific causes. But given our ageing population, and increasing need, shouldn’t charities working with older people be there too? It’s no wonder that the excellent AGEUK must sell products, from car insurance to funeral plans, to help pay for its drop-in centres.
When we launched our befriending helpline for older people, The Silver Line, in 2013, it was a totally different experience from the launch of Childline in 1986. When Childline started, it was received with such warmth that I took part in 19 broadcasts in one day, and donations came flooding in. When The Silver Line launched, I was lucky to be able to discuss it on one national TV show and a few local radio stations.
All through the four and a half years of The Silver Line’s existence, we have depended not upon donations from the public, but on grant-making foundations and corporates working in the elderly sector. Even though in less than five years we have received more than 2 million calls, thus proving the demand. Even though I receive touching letters from callers who tell us we have transformed their lives, that they no longer feel utterly alone. Even so, older people just don’t appeal to the public as deserving of support.
Why do vulnerable older people seem not to touch the public’s heart? We have Children in Need. Why not Older People in Need? Why does a new charity, like The Silver Line Helpline, created so that isolated older people could counter the damaging effects of loneliness on their health, find it so difficult to attract funding?
Could it be one result of the fragmentation of the extended family, which used to centre on its oldest members? I grew up in an extended family, where the generations spent a great deal of time enjoying themselves together. I saw my grandmother at least once a week throughout my childhood. I stayed overnight with her to help with her medication. When I once ran away from school, it was to stay with her, and she also fed me meringues and taught me how to play Canasta.
But in those days families were geographically in easy reach of each other. Nowadays families are scattered around the country. So older people often end up isolated, living alone, sometimes with nobody to have a cup of tea with.
It might be because, although you hear a great deal of lip-service paid to “intergenerational” stuff, we are as a society more and more divided, kept apart not just economically, but in age brackets. Look at the media, the way broadcasters target different generations. Radio 1 has no music that appeals to me. I’m expected to go to Radios 2 and 4. Daytime TV is clearly designed for the old, night-time for the young. Indeed when pitching a new idea, mention the word “old” to a broadcasting commissioner, and most of them will clap their hands over their ears and run.
Look at where we oldies are encouraged to live. I applaud the rise of retirement housing: we need the security of appropriate housing. I down-sized when my family home became an anxiety instead of a haven. But I hate the idea that young people are shut out of gated communities reserved for the over-fifties. I love the developments (like mine) which include a pool to attract the grandchildren. And I wonder whether the physical lack of contact between the young and the old explains why it’s so difficult to fund charities helping older people.
Maybe the very idea of old age is too uncomfortable for the young. Too often we associate age with problems – dementia, disability, bed-blocking – whereas in my grandmother’s day older people (who didn’t usually live as long as today) were thought of as wiser, more experienced, more useful. And yet we know they are an invaluable resource. So many families today depend on the Bank of Mum and Dad, the baby-sitter duties and the childcare support.
I am not surprised that very often the people who respond to appeals are oldies themselves. As one wrote to The Silver Line, enclosing a cheque: “I am not a wealthy person so wish I could give more, but you came to my rescue when I had nobody to talk to or even care.” To prove we as a country do care, I would like to suggest the creation of a minister for older people, to ensure that this sector of society is properly valued, nurtured and protected. And to celebrate them, every Sunday – not just this one – should be regarded as Silver Sunday.