Forget the short-term thrills, Lotto is a tax on our stupidity
WHEN you hear the likes of Bryan Dobson at the peak of excitement over that eyewatering €175m EuroMillions win in Naul, Co. Dublin, it’s clear that this country has gone completely bonkers. RTÉ wasn’t the only media outlet salivating at the prospect of ordinary punters hitting the mother lode and being transported into an elite club of unimaginable super-wealth.
It all panders to a demonstrable illusion, an enticing mirage, a false narrative that ‘it could be you’. It’s nothing more than a mega-lie that, tragically, we Irish have swallowed.
In 2016 more than €5.6bn was handed to the gambling and lottery industries by people in Ireland who reckoned, despite all evidence to the contrary, that they could win ‘against the house’. The National Lottery sales, which are now back over €800m a year, only accounted for about one-eighth of that.
Our fascination with betting is out of control. And totally irrational.
The chance of winning the jackpot in the Irish Lotto is an ‘impossible’ 1 to 10.7 million. To win a match 5 plus bonus you have odds of 1 to 1.8 million. It was once said that you are better off buying your Lotto ticket early in order to enjoy, for longer, their only real value – the pleasure of anticipation. Handing over money to a rapacious superindustry is playing out of one of the basic instincts at the heart of mankind: the need to dream.
The gambling industries have taken that urge for greatness that is written into our DNA and turned it against us. They know we aspire to greater things, that we wish for more. And so they entrance us with false promises of freedom, happiness and financial security.
Sociologist H. Roy Kaplan, in research carried out more than 40 years ago, revealed that big-time lottery winners were no happier than people who never won a dime a short time after winning. However, he also showed that, despite popular belief, winners did not go crazy with lavish spending.
And then there are the ads on television, with wholesome folk living it large without losing the run of themselves. We are too sensible to be ruined by wealth, is the pitch.
And we’re supposed to be impressed that about 30 per cent of all the money spent on National Lottery games is returned to ‘good causes’. Similarly, we’re expected to nod in appreciation that 57 per cent of all the money handed over, in the unrealisable hope of success, comes back to ‘players’ in prizes.
And sure Marty and Sinéad are gas altogether on the telly. Great show, all those families and supporters and cascading glitter after the wheel stops spinning. Trouble is, the wheel has stopping spinning for the bulk of those who waste their money on foolish gambling like the National Lottery.
In a report on the socio-economic impact of the National Lottery published by the National Lottery itself just last December, a wonderful nugget of information was revealed at page 33. This wasn’t mentioned in the contents page and, in truth, required a bit of concentration to locate.
It confirms what everybody has always suspected – that gaming is simply a tax on the poor. The report states: ‘The social class breakdown of National Lottery players is similar to that of the overall population.’ Which in plain English means that working class and casual and lower income workers form over 50 per cent of all the people who play the lottery – despite having the least disposable income.
Upper middle and middle class people take part, but even though they have more money in the pockets, they are not over-represented. Proportionately, this lunacy is costing them way less. Also, the lottery is sucking in the old – over half of all spending on the Lotto comes from older men and women.
Gambling may give a short-term thrill, the anticipation of achieving that impossible dream.
But essentially, when it’s all distilled down, it’s nothing more than a tax on our stupidity.