No Dice E-Book

Nathan Charles

• Herausgeber: 404 Ink
• Kategorie: Wissenschaft und neue Technologien
• Serie: Inklings
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Seitenzahl: 71

Beschreibung

When you think of 'gambling' you might think of Vegas casinos, betting shops and football flutters but the risk of gambling is embedded in numerous corners of popular culture that many of us consume. By considering the concept of 'soft gambling', No Dice asks how we could possibly link the Pokémon Trading Card Game with gambling. Can we compare Netflix to a night at the theatre? When does fictional gambling within video games go too far with their infamous loot boxes? Does such risk affect everyone or are socio-economic divides driving further inequality? No Dice explores the messy world of gambling and risk that we encounter regularly, from childhood through adulthood, considering if it is worth the risk and if we even know what risks we might be taking.

Leseprobe

No Dice

Published by 404 Ink Limited

www.404Ink.com

@404Ink

All rights reserved © Nathan Charles, 2022.

The right of Nathan Charles to be identified as the Author of this Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act 1988.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without first obtaining the written permission of the rights owner, except for the use of brief quotations in reviews.

Please note: Some references include URLs which may change or be unavailable after publication of this book. All references within endnotes were accessible and accurate as of September 2022 but may experience link rot from there on in.

Editing: Laura Jones

Typesetting: Laura Jones

Cover design: Luke Bird

Co-founders and publishers of 404 Ink:

Heather McDaid & Laura Jones

Print ISBN: 978-1-912489-66-4

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-912489-67-1

No Dice

Gambling and Risk in Modern Culture

Nathan Charles

for my wonderful mother

my hilarious old man

my beautiful sister kate

love you all eternally

sorry for being such a little

shit in school

x

Introduction: Risk & Play

I am somebody that has never truly defined themselves as a gambling addict. I consider myself, rather, a person who has, at times, religiously gambled and taken risks. A person who has an addictive personality with an attraction to the uncertain. When somebody asks me whether I am a gambling addict, I say something along the lines of ‘it’s a complicated relationship’ or, more often than not, ‘I can only gamble what I can afford’. I am a person who likes to take risks.

When you begin looking into society’s understanding of gambling and risk, with focus on the UK, it can be easy to get lost in the sheer amount of numbers, graphs, diagrams and statistics. Quantitative data forms the basis of shocking headlines and news articles buzzed to our phones. But what about the less obvious ways in which we gamble and take risks as consumers? How could you possibly link the PokémonTrading Card Game with gambling? Compare Netflix to a night out in the West End? When does fictional gambling within video games go too far with their infamous loot boxes?

When I say ‘gambling’ you might picture a high-stakes Monaco casino, filled with dashing patrons in glamorous suits and frocks with sparkling jewellery to match. The reality is that gambling and the idea of risk is much closer to home then we realise, where fluffy dressing gowns and slippers are more the attire.

Throughout No Dice I am going to explore various forms of legal gambling embedded in popular culture, particularly within working class communities, that repeatedly avoid adequate legislative regulations, which I refer to as ‘soft gambling’ activities. For the context of this book, I define ‘soft gambling’ as an activity that is legal and either partly-regulated or not regulated at all, which requires an element of financial risk to participate in. A stake.

Research around the number of gamblers in the UK is skewed by prominent regulatory body the Gambling Commission and their definition of ‘gambling’: ‘betting, gaming or participating in a lottery. That definition distinguishes between activities which need to be licensed and other activities which do not.’1

According to the NHS, developing a problematic relationship with gambling can ‘harm your health and relationships and leave you in serious debt’2 amongst a whole host of other complications that are, of course, different with every individual case of addiction.

The NHS offers a questionnaire on their website to self-assess whether you may be, as they describe it, a ‘problem gambler’.

Try this questionnaire:

Do you bet more than you can afford to lose?Do you need to gamble with larger amounts of money to get the same feeling?Have you tried to win back money you have lost (chasing losses)?Have you borrowed money or sold anything to get money to gamble?Have you wondered whether you have a problem with gambling?Has your gambling caused you any health problems, including feelings of stress or anxiety?Have other people criticised your betting or told you that you had a gambling problem (regardless of whether or not you thought it was true)?Has your gambling caused any financial problems for you or your household?Have you ever felt guilty about the way you gamble or what happens when you gamble?

Score 0 for each time you answer “never”

Score 1 for each time you answer “sometimes”

Score 2 for each time you answer “most of the time”

Score 3 for each time you answer “almost always”

If your total score is 8 or higher, you may be a problem gambler.3

But what support is there for problem gamblers?

In 2002, under Tony Blair’s Labour government, legislative measures were proposed to completely reform the gambling industry. Following a speech by then-Secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport Tessa Jowell, a deal was struck with UK bookmakers and online betting companies to pave the way for problem gamblers to receive the help and care they needed. As a collective, the companies committed to giving 0.1 percent of their £14 billion revenues to charities such as BeGambleAware, an industry-leading organisation whose sole aim is to ‘offer free, confidential help and support to anyone who’s worried about their – or someone else’s – gambling.’4Since then, the industry has ‘increasingly failed to meet its commitments’5 in its pledge. Investigative journalist Rob Davies revealed that ‘[betting] firms make at least 70 percent of their revenues from the biggest losers…’6,indicating a clear financial incentive to keep vulnerable gamblers playing with them. Data released by BeGambleAware shows that ‘some firms ensured their presence on the list [of donors] by giving just £1 or £5 a year.’7

Betting firms continue to show that financial gain comes above the well-being of their players, irrespective of vulnerability. Why would firms help treat the problem when they can simply appear to be helping and still reap the financial rewards of those with a problematic relationship with gambling, especially financially benefiting from those of less privileged backgrounds?

Russell Brand, comedian and addiction awareness activist, poses the question in his YouTube series: ‘How can there ever be legislative change when the funding comes from the people benefitting from things saying the same?’8, whether it be an extensive overhaul of rules and regulations or a mandatory tax on businesses that profit from gamblers.

* * *

‘Now, when you think of working classness right, you lot wouldn’t be wrong to think of the sort of gritty Channel 4 version of working class that tells you lot that my lot are opportunistic, taking what we can, doing as little as possible for it because that’s all you know of it, that’s all the tell, the papers, the news, your friends, your leaders tell you about us’.9

This quote is an extract from performance artist Scottee’s show Class. I agree that the typical Channel 4depictions of the working classes in their various documentaries over the years have been abhorrent but that is not the most interesting observation. The appeal Scottee mentions, of ‘doing as little as possible’and pouncing on ‘opportunities’, isn’t one I necessarily have a negative view on. Why wouldn’t you, within the confines of the law, take an opportunity to earn money by ‘doing as little as possible’? This makes me think about how the slog of a 12-hour shift on minimum wage compares to the chance of winning the same on a slot machine, or online roulette.

When I was 18, I had a job in a small café in Portsmouth Historic Dockyard on minimum wage. It wasn’t the most glamorous job but certainly wasn’t the most laborious. I was – and am still – grateful for that. I could go to work, earn my pay, and come home. I would commute on the bus every weekend without fail and situated next to the bus stop was a Ladbrokes betting shop, open 9am to 10pm every day. I would stand in its doorway and flag down my number 2 bus. At this point I’d never been in a traditional bookies before. I had placed bets online, sure, but never in a shop itself. I was intrigued.

After finishing work early one day, I popped in to place a bet on the Portsmouth FC match that I was going to that same evening. One small bet,