Poker machine reforms won't work? Don't bet on it

Poker machine reforms won't work? Don't bet on it
Tom Cummings

"Won't work" has become the new black. Carbon tax? Won't work, says the Coalition. Plain cigarette packaging? Won't work, say retailers and the tobacco industry.

Poker machine reforms? Won't work, says the gambling industry.

No proof is required; it's enough to stare into the camera, look earnest and say forcefully, "It. Won't. Work."

In fact, it's often better to avoid trying to justify the assertion. Take poker machine reforms, for example. The anti-reform lobby, headed by Clubs Australia and backed by the AHA, the NRL and a host of right-wing shock jocks (to name a few) has given several reasons why poker machine reforms won't work.

Yet the reasons are generally contradictory, such as problem gamblers being driven away from the pokies to gamble online, while at the same time finding ways around the reforms to continue playing the pokies. They've been called out on this several times (most recently by Leigh Sales on the ABC's 7.30); it would have been much easier to say, simply, that they just won't work.

But Clubs Australia have taken this one step further. They've just launched their latest campaign against the reforms (remember "It's Un-Australian"?) and it's called, naturally enough, "Won't Work, Will Hurt." They've delivered hundreds of thousands of pamphlets to houses in marginal electorates across the east coast, targeting specific MPs and urging residents to rise up against the reforms.

With a new campaign comes a new focus. The potential financial impact of the reforms has taken a back seat, as a direct consequence of the public backlash against an industry that is crying poor yet, overall, takes $12 billion a year. The potential community impact has also been shunted aside. And gone is any reference at all to the reforms being "un-Australian".

Instead, we get Clubs Australia wearing their hearts on their collective sleeve. We care about problem gamblers, they say, and that's why we oppose these reforms. They won't help problem gamblers; they won't work. And as to why they won't work? Apparently problem gamblers will be the first to get a licence. They'll set ridiculously high spending limits. And the reforms don't stop problem gamblers from partaking on other forms of gambling.

There's more, plenty more, but that's the guts of it. The essence of their argument is that it doesn't matter what you do, problem gamblers will always find a way to gamble... so do nothing. Let them spend their money and develop their addictions, and only then will we step in with counselling and exclusion programs, and pick up the pieces.

When it's already too late.

There is so much wrong with this approach.

For starters, Clubs Australia continues to wilfully misrepresent the proposed poker machine reforms. They insist that every poker machine player will need to register for a licence; this is not true. The proposed reforms state that poker machines that are downgraded to a $1 maximum bet will NOT require pre-commitment, and the fact is that 88 per cent of Australia's 5 million pokie gamblers play $1 or less per spin. It is also a fact that the software changes required to cap maximum bets at $1 are cheaper and simpler than installing pre-commitment technology, and so it stands to reason that the majority of venues would take up this option. Victoria recently legislated a drop in the maximum bet on poker machines from $10 to $5, with little or no fuss or reaction from the industry... so this is not a new concept.

Minimal implementation costs; minimal impact on gamblers. This doesn't sit well with the industry, it negates their arguments, exposes the lies in their financial modelling and undermines their position. So they deny it. Clubs Australia CEO Anthony Ball has repeatedly denied the existence of "low-loss" poker machines... even though they are just the same machines we have now, reprogrammed.

Then there's the matter of responsibility. Every measure that the gambling industry supports to tackle problem gambling puts the onus on the gambler, and absolves the venues of responsibility. Counselling and self-exclusion are fine and worthy strategies, but they don't enter the picture until after gambling addiction has taken hold, by which time the harm has already been done. Even voluntary pre-commitment (and just how voluntary pre-commitment can work if mandatory pre-commitment will fail is beyond me), supported by the industry, leaves it up to the gambler to take part in the scheme and make it work.

The reality is that responsibility is a three way street. Gamblers must have personal responsibility, but so too the gambling industry and our governments need to show responsibility in the products they offer and the laws they pass.

But rising above both of these is their characterisation of problem gamblers. Do you really think Clubs Australia have any idea what goes on inside the head of a problem gambler? That their concern for problem gamblers is based on the very best of intentions?

I don't. And here's why.

I discovered poker machines in my mid-20s. I had a good job at the time, a couple of years out of university and life appeared wonderful. I wasn't a gambler; bets on the Melbourne Cup and a weekly lottery ticket were the extent of my betting prowess.

But something clicked inside my head the very first time I played the pokies. It was the start of years of addiction, years in which I pissed away close to $100,000 and destroyed the trust of everyone I knew. I was a poker machine addict, and no matter my intentions, I simply could not stop playing. Suicide became an option I seriously contemplated, and it took discovery, exposure and the loss of everything I had to finally force my hand and give me the ability to step away.

Yet while I was playing the pokies, I wasn't gambling on anything else... and in the years since I stopped, no other form of gambling has interested me. It wasn't about the gambling; it was about the pokies and nothing more.

Poker machine addicts are not problem gamblers, not in the classic sense. It's not about weighing up the odds, making your decisions and sweating on the outcome. There's no sense of achievement, no rush, no thrill. Poker machines dull your mind and provide a refuge from the world. It's about repetition, the hypnotic action of the spinning reels; it's the very fact that no knowledge or decision-making is required that makes them so effective at fostering addiction and taking your money. And every few seconds, you have the opportunity to win... to make up for the losses you've already had.

Problem gamblers want to bet, and will find any excuse to do so. Poker machine addicts hate their addiction, and desperately want to stop... but feel unable to do so. It's irrational, sure, but it's the reality. Every morning for years I would wake up and swear off the pokies. Today was the day, I would declare. Time to cut my losses and walk away. Time to reclaim my life.

But a few hours later, my resolve would waver. I would start convincing myself that I could win, that I could repair the damage I'd done, put all the money back and pretend that the years of addiction had never happened. And day after day I'd find myself back in the venue, pouring coins into the slot or sliding notes into the mouth of the machine, and it would begin again.

When you're a poker machine addict, you quickly reach the point where the only way to dull the pain is to lose yourself in the game. Sit down, turn off and the world goes away. But the problems, the pain is still there, waiting for you to leave the venue... so you keep playing.

The industry talks about problem gamblers... what they think, how they feel, what their intentions are... but they're not talking about addicts like me, like I was. They're not talking about the many, many poker machine addicts I've spoken to in the past couple of years. They're not talking about the vast majority of Australian poker machine addicts who have no interest in any other form of gambling.

What they're counting on is our silence. Problem gamblers and poker machine addicts alike hide their addictions; society sneers at them, ridicules them, treats them with pity or contempt. Andrew Bolt, while claiming to hate poker machines, recently wrote about persuading the "poor and stupid" to quit; Anthony Ball constantly refers to problem gamblers as "irresponsible"; and there is a widespread belief that poker machine addicts "choose" to blow their money and destroy their lives.

Consequently, we keep quiet. We hide the addiction, conceal the harm, lie to everyone we know. Even when the addiction is in the past we maintain that silence, desperate to pretend it never happened. Australia may love a bet, but it hates those who can't stop.

What would a poker machine addict think of these reforms? Of $1 pokies and pre-commitment for the big-spending machines? Unlike the clubs, I won't pretend to speak for the thousands of Australians who have a problem with poker machines. I don't have that right... but I can tell you this.

All those mornings that I woke up vowing to change; all the times I couldn't look my partner in the eye; every time I lied to my family and friends; if I had just had the ability to put a limit on my spending there and then, a limit I couldn't ignore once I was sitting at a machine, I would have grabbed at it like a drowning man at a life saver. To be given a tool that I could use to exert some form of control over my addiction would have changed my life; may even have given me the strength to stop, on my own terms. Because like most poker machine addicts, I wanted to stop. I was looking for a way.

Don't let Clubs Australia tell you about problem gamblers. They don't know, and by shifting all of the responsibility on to the addicted, it's pretty clear they don't care. These reforms will not require all pokie players to register or get a card; they won't cost billions of dollars to implement; and special consideration has been given to small and regional venues. Casual punters will still be able to drop $20 on the pokies without pre-commitment, and those with serious or developing problems will have tools they can use to exert some control.

The reforms won't work?

Don't bet on it.

Tom Cummings is a former problem gambler who has turned his attention to gambling reform and the industry in general. He blogs, he tweets and he often annoys people.