The pain behind Powerball ecstasy
It is all too easy to begrudge another’s success. But Powerball winner Mavis Wanczyk’s fantasy of riches come true ought to force a hard collective second look at the dark side of lotteries.
Wanczyk raked in a $758.7 million jackpot, the largest singleticket winning in North American history. She told a captivated press of having “always” nursed the vision of instant wealth showering down at random. “It’s just a chance I had to take.”
Deep down, we all know how feelings like this can distort and corrupt our view of how to live well. Yet the juggernaut of lottery culture rolls on. It may be impossible to stop completely anytime soon, but it would be easy to reform, if only we face up to the stakes.
Take a look at the numbers. Last year, according to CNN, Americans blew over $80 billion on tickets — more than on video games, sporting events, music and movies, to say nothing of old-time pleasures like books, combined. And while the relatively well-off may suffer little up front in frittering away their disposable cash, the poor keep ponying up, and paying a heavy price.
Residents of America’s poorest counties buy the most tickets. The poorest third of households, according to a Duke University study, buy half of them — thanks in significant part to the endless advertising that pummels poorer neighborhoods. Throw in the windfall taxes that can shear off almost half the haul of a big winner, and the economics of lotteries look as grotesque as a bad casino’s.
Small wonder that lotteries have had to bring on top-notch marketing talent to give their often-degrading enterprise an almost religious sheen of transcendent meaning and purpose. “Believe in Something Bigger,” California’s Powerball campaign urged a few years back, drawing howls. According to the ad agency that cooked up the psychologically predatory slogan, it “isn’t just a tagline, it’s a mindset — one that inspires people to think beyond what’s possible.”
Meaning what, exactly? “To be part of a movement of optimism and larger-than-life dreams,” explained the agency. If you believe that’s an honest reflection of America’s lottery culture, I’ve got a bridge I’d like to sell you.
Instead of being suckered in, consider what all our squandered cash — and squandered hope — could do for us instead. Thanks to compound interest, even low rates of return on investment can build up substantial savings over time, especially relative to the substantial per-ticket losses that buyers incur on average. While state budgets may benefit from what Atlantic writer Derek Thompson has called “a tax disguised as a game,” household budgets don’t.
Not only are lottery tickets a good way to lose money; they’re a good way to lose touch with the necessity of steady progress to achieving long-term goals. In an era of rampant consumer debt, low levels of inherited wealth, and political uncertainty, we’re extra desperate for get-rich-quick schemes, and particularly prone to impatience or even despair toward the daily grind.
“Social instability favors the natural instability of desires,” warned Alexis de Tocqueville, urging officials to give us “daily practical examples” of how “nothing of lasting value is achieved without trouble.” Greedy for easy revenue, our state governments are now hooked on doing precisely the opposite.
Meanwhile, the lives of their citizens are twisted by epidemics of depression and drug abuse. Growing numbers permanently withdraw from the work force. “Reality” entertainment offers fantasies that converge on mere luxury. And generations of children raised on social media want to be famous when they grow up because, they believe, fame is their last best hope for big bucks.
Hard work, discipline, commitment and dedication aren’t the kind of “values” you can go to the convenience store to get your hands on. They’re habits and traditions our lottery mentality has worked to destroy.
To get back on track, a few swift reforms would make a splash. Ironically, jackpots should be made easier to win, because they should be made smaller. Modest awards won’t be squandered so much on outsized luxuries, going instead to shore up or level up winners’ real lives. Next, ad budgets and placement should be restricted, making promotional campaigns rarer, less predatory, and less cultish.
It’s not an instant cure, but it’s a start. If the lottery should teach us anything, it’s that big things don’t happen all at once.