It began when the baby boomers left home.

Careers took them to far-flung places. Succeeding generations are doing the same. "The world has shrunk," we say, as we Skype our children in England or Europe, America or the Far East. What opportunities they have. Isn't it great?

But, as the old among us are discovering to their cost, there is a price. It's paid when fitness falters and there's no family to turn to for support. It's a price the UK will soon be unable to afford according to Norman Lamb, Westminster's care and support minister. He points to the expected 50 per cent increase in the over-60s in the next 25 years. This is the demographic group that accounts for six in 10 hospital admissions. In Scotland we can expect an 86 per cent increase in people over the age of 75 by 2037.

Mr Lamb says we will need volunteers to plug the gap left by the state and "inadvertently neglectful families". He says isolation is, in some places, a more urgent concern than crime but claims the state can't battle it on its own. He is calling for a nation of volunteers to take the place of the extended family. Is it a cost-cutting response and could it work? As I watch family and friends reach infirmity I have become ever more convinced that the state, whether in England or Scotland, makes an honest attempt to care for people's bodies. If health care can be judged by mountains of pills, the number of hospital and GP appointments or the availability of scans, it's pretty thorough.

The problem comes later, once the medication is sorted out, once the elderly person has returned home. Then the emphasis lies in making sure everyone is clean, fed, watered and warmed. It's a policy demonstrated every morning as teams of carers go into action like an invading army. Their task is to rouse, wash, dress and breakfast the old or infirm in less time than it takes to clean a budgie cage.

What remains neglected is the person who inhabits the body. It's not surprising. Carers will tell you that, for many of their clients, this may be their only social contact until bedtime. They'd prefer not to rush through their care with no time for a chat but what can they do? To spend an extra five minutes in one house is to keep another poor and lonely soul waiting.

The misery that ensues should be enough to trigger an action plan. But we live in a world where cost determines everything. A pilot scheme is suggesting that a more humane approach can also pay off.

Age UK (the southern sister of Age Scotland) has joined forces with health and social care providers in Cornwall to place supervised volunteers in local GP surgeries. The aim was to identify the individual desires of their elderly patients and to fulfil them. The results are enlightening. For example, one man longed to see his dog run on the beach again. With the help of a volunteer, he did. A woman wanted to have her hair properly washed after enduring months of her carers using dry shampoo. It was done. Similarly small, apparently trivial acts of kindness are being delivered to 100 frail elderly. Not only are they enjoying improved mood and well-being, the cost of their care is dropping.

The project reports a 30% reduction in non-elective hospital admission costs, a 40% drop in acute admissions for long-term conditions and a 5% cut in demand for adult social care.

In other words, alleviating human misery saves money.

I can't say I'm surprised. But as a member of the baby boomer generation who is edging, however slowly, toward the frail elderly category, I am delighted.

What is currently happening to old people is a blot on our society. Dr Matthew Boulter, one of the GPs involved in the Cornish scheme, told about visiting a disabled patient at home. As he was leaving the house he realised she had no chairs and wondered if that meant she had no visitors. He doubled back to talk to her to discover she hadn't been out of the house for five years. Her wish was to do her own shopping in a nearby supermarket. The GP was able to arrange it. Isn't it shaming to think that people remain isolated for years and die without having such simple requests granted?

We know that loneliness is twice as damaging to health as obesity. It increases premature death by 14%. In Scotland, more than 80,000 people over the age of 65 say they are always or often lonely. Television is the main source of company for 350,000 and almost one-quarter of a million say they "would like to get out more".

There are, of course, charities here and across the rest of the UK that cater for older people. Organisations such as the Royal Voluntary Service do exceptional work that includes providing volunteer drivers and offering support for patients when they leave hospital. Many charities organise lunch clubs. But when Volunteer Scotland carried out research in Tayside, it found elderly people wanted more personalised support. Not everyone likes bingo, one pointed out. People would like the ability to continue the interests they have always had.

The Tayside research found what Cornwall demonstrates. Preventative, anticipatory, low level support is effective. It is early intervention that contributes to reduced admissions and readmissions to acute care. Having someone on hand who knows the patient well also helps. Part of the problem is getting older people to admit to frailty or to ask for help.

I witnessed this difficulty when I attended a hospital out-patients appointment with an elderly acquaintance. Until recently, he was fit and independent. His attitude hasn't caught up with his physical decline. To each question about how he was coping he answered: "Fine."

I knew he could neither cook nor clean. He would tell me he'd lost his appetite and was so unsteady on his feet he was taking a taxi to buy bread. But he wouldn't admit to his changed circumstances to a strange nurse or doctor in a hospital. However, an alert GP who saw him regularly could have spotted the decline and persuaded him to speak to an in-house volunteering service.

The right back-up at the right time would have lifted his spirits by diminishing his anxiety. Someone coming in to take him shopping would improve his nutrition, reduce the risk of falls and keep him out of hospital. The spiral that is pulling him down could be reversed.

There is another possible advantage to having a volunteer service. By becoming volunteers, the over-60s can help themselves. Callers to Silver Line say they get low when they no longer feel of value. They lose confidence and start to feel trapped at home and isolated. By volunteering while they are still healthy, they remain connected to other people and the wider world.

We are advancing towards a demographic time bomb. It is bringing a pressure that won't change after September, whether the referendum vote is Yes or No. It is a human problem that has the potential to become an unmanageable crisis. Now there is hope of a humane solution. Will we grasp it?