As we approach referendum day on 18 September, two categories of questions will dominate the hustings and the media. We should certainly be concerned by both but the degree to which each exercises us probably defines our outlook on life.

One of them concerns the economy and all its related issues: will we be better off in an independent Scotland? Will our jobs be threatened? How much will stuff cost? Will my pension be adversely affected?

The other will mainly be concerned with how independence will affect others and, as such, will tell us if independence is actually worth fighting for.

If Scotland can become one of the 10 most affluent countries in the world, as it is claimed by the SNP, then the biggest challenge independence will bring is redistributing that wealth fairly.

The eradication of poverty, especially child poverty, in a land of plenty must be the top priority in the new, just society that the Scottish Nationalists promise us will follow after independence is gained.

Something will have to change, but if all we are concerned about is how much more money we can each make out of independence, then let's simply forget about it.

The Trussell Trust is the Christian organisation that runs most of the foodbanks in this country. The word foodbank has now become so commonplace that we forget the obscenity that it masks. The concept of a foodbank in our very rich country – one of the world's 10 richest, remember – is similar to the concept of giving people snow in Alaska. Why would anyone ever run out of snow in Alaska?

The trust reported over Easter that at the end of March this year there were more than 40 open foodbanks in Scotland. In 2012, there was a mere handful.

The rise in the number of adults and children seeking to feed themselves for a week can partly be explained by the changes in the way that benefits are assessed and paid out.

Underpinning the entire operation, including the bedroom tax, was an assumption that the people most affected by these are, let's face it, on the fiddle, untrustworthy, not really deserving, feckless and authors of their own misfortune through drug and alcohol misuse.

Thus those struggling to understand the changes or who were late for appointments simply didn't receive any benefit at all.

The message from the Tories, their coalition partners, the Lib-Dems, and their camp followers in the Labour party who refused to vote against these measures was clear: these people are scum and are simply not worth the candle. Unless, of course, there is a war and the rest of us are in such mortal peril that we will need the scum to come forward in their millions (as they always do) to rescue us. Then we will call them heroes, drape them in the union flag and drive their coffins through Royal Wootton Bassett for their troubles.

The benefits changes, though, only explain part of the astonishing increase in foodbanks in Scotland's cities. Many other people use them simply because they are there.

Just because they once coped without them doesn't mean that they don't need them now. The backlash from the right against foodbanks was expected even if they left it a bit late. Foodbanks have revealed the inequalities that are the building blocks of the way society is ordered in the UK and thus it was only a matter of time before they were attacked.

The main accusation levelled against them was that their system of checks was a bit windy and so – the shame of it – some people were receiving food who might not have needed it. The message was simple: there are poor people in our country, but, by jove, not really that many.

The foodbank I visited last December was certainly well run by a dedicated team of volunteers. There, a system of coloured vouchers was deployed to ensure that genuine claimants on benefits were the recipients of food.

This, though, is a Christian organisation and, underpinning its ethos is a reluctance to turn people away who ask for aid.

Many of the people I saw coming through its doors were defeated and despairing; many simply wouldn't be there if they didn't have children to provide for over the Christmas period. Some of them had walked from several miles away because the bus fare was a luxury they weren't then able to stretch to. They were proud people who wanted to look after their own and start working again.

God knows how many proud people were on a list that has been bumping around some social networks recently. It is simply a list of the names of people we know to have died as a direct consequence of the benefits changes. Most had taken their own lives in absolute despair at the way their dignity and way of life had suddenly been swiped from underneath them.

Later this year, another Christian organisation, the Evangelical Alliance, representing more than 200,000 Christians in Scotland, will officially become involved in the debate on Scotland's future.

It is seeking to ensure that the eradication of poverty and inequality remains the number one goal of those shaping a new Scotland.

Its manifesto, What kind of nation?, will ask our politicians to shape a country where hope and dignity can be restored in a society that is characterised by bankers' bonuses, massive public debt levels, more political expenses scandals, food poverty and homelessness.

Images of poverty and child poverty, especially from countries left destitute by corruption, colonialism and civil war, are disturbing enough. What do we call them when they occur in one of the 10 richest counties in the world?

It's simply not good enough to claim that an independent Scotland would be the sixth most buoyant economy in the world when 250,000 of its children are still starting life three goals down. If this pattern of inequality and unfairness does not change, then the arguments provoked by the independence debate will have been meaningless.