Fears for those fighting gambling addiction during virus lockdown
Western Mail journalist David Owens, a former problem gambler, argues that the coronavirus crisis is inevitably and worryingly going to lead to an escalating problem with gambling addiction
FIRSTLY, I have to declare something – I’m a compulsive gambler. Luckily, I’m also a compulsive gambler in recovery.
Thanks to the support of my friends, family and my local GA (Gamblers Anonymous) group, I’ve managed to manoeuvre myself away from the dark place that gambling took me; those days when it completely overtook me, controlling everything I did.
To date it’s 286 days since I last gambled.
I’m in a good place, but I’m fearful for others.
I’m fearful that in a time of national crisis when we’re all feeling anxious and concerned about what the future holds, when people are losing their jobs, being asked to take pay cuts or being put on furlough leave, that the threat of gambling harm has increased.
In a society where in the space of two weeks more than 900,000 people have applied for universal credit, I’m fearful for those who consider gambling not only as a way out, an escape from their head and the fear that dogs everyone’s thoughts, but also as a quick-fix money-making opportunity, a way out of immediate money worries.
With no sport in the UK and very little sporting events being held globally, the capacity for sports betting on actual events has been markedly reduced. However, there is the threat of people either betting on virtual events, which have been launched online by bookies, or turning their sights on gambling in online casinos, where the ease of access through mobile phones and electronic devices is simple and immediate.
This is not idle theorising either. According to one of the UK’s biggest gambling websites, gamblers are switching from wagers on sport to far riskier online casino and slot games amid lockdown restrictions to curb the spread of coronavirus.
In an update to the stock market, 888 Holdings said it had been affected by the postponement or cancellation of events such as the Premier League and the Grand National, cutting income from sports betting, which accounts for about 16% of its revenues. However, it said there was evidence that gamblers were migrating to alternative products.
“There is currently evidence of increased customer activity in the group’s casino and poker products that might, in part, compensate for the sports betting disruption for a period of time,” the company stated.
Swansea East MP Carolyn Harris, chairman of the All-Party Parliamentary Group for Gambling Related Harm, has called for a complete ban on gambling advertising during the coronavirus pandemic and for a £2 stake limit to be enforced online.
She said her inbox has been overflowing with messages from people who haven’t gambled for several years who have this week been targeted by betting firms.
“That cannot be coincidental,” she argued. “That is deliberate. They are using a devastating situation to profiteer from the misery people who until now have managed to avoid gambling.”
Worryingly, I have own evidence to back this up. Since lockdown I’ve received more unsolicited texts and emails from gambling companies than at anytime in my recovery.
Even those whose mailing lists I’d unsubscibed from. And this despite having every block in place to stop this happening. A coincidence? I think not.
Sadly, as gambling companies ramp up the marketing – offering free spins, bonus offers and cash incentives to lure people in, it’s inconceivable that people won’t be hooked.
It’s how I my gambling addiction first began.
One night in January 2016 I spotted an ad on one of the football websites which caught my eye.
It read something like “Get £88 in free bets”.
I couldn’t quite believe that there was a gambling website that was offering £88 in free bets. The money offered could be used on sports betting or in their online casino.
I plumped for playing on slots. Truth is, I had little idea what I was doing or even how the many bonus features the game possessed worked.
Neither did I know how much I was to place in a single spin or the potential rewards they could bring.
I was mindlessly clicking the spin button wondering what was happening. Then, something very big did
happen. The screen exploded into life telling me that I had won and that my win was BIG, then MASSIVE, then MEGA. If it was to convey a feeling of excitement, it worked.
I stared at the screen and couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I had somehow won £750. I doublechecked, triple-checked to ensure this wasn’t a mistake. There was no mistake.
There were no catches. In a little under 30 minutes I had won a sizeable amount of money.
That thrilling endorphin rush could have been a needle in my veins, it was as potent as any drug.
Three days later I won £500. That was it. I was hooked.
During the intervening three and a half years I lived my own private hell. I wouldn’t wish this on anybody.
Sadly, I fear when we emerge from the coronavirus crisis, my local GA group and many like them will be overrun with those who fell victim to gambling addiction during a time when we find ourselves in isolation.
Too long the gambling industry has been a law unto itself.
While the tobacco and alcohol industries are heavily regulated, the gambling industry has been allowed to act largely unchecked.
Make no mistake, problem gambling in the UK is now so endemic it should be treated as a public health crisis.
There needs to be urgent reform of the Gambling Act to ensure that more people aren’t ensnared by this insidious addiction that destroys lives.