Recent decades have seen a dramatic shift away from social forms of gambling played around roulette wheels and card tables to solitary gambling at electronic terminals. Addiction by Design takes readers into the intriguing world of machine gambling, an increasingly popular and absorbing form of play that blurs the line between human and machine, compulsion and control, risk and reward.
Drawing on fifteen years of field research in Las Vegas, anthropologist Natasha Dow Schull shows how the mechanical rhythm of electronic gambling pulls players into a trancelike state they call the "machine zone," in which daily worries, social demands, and even bodily awareness fade away. Once in the zone, gambling addicts play not to win but simply to keep playing, for as long as possible--even at the cost of physical and economic exhaustion. In continuous machine play, gamblers seek to lose themselves while the gambling industry seeks profit. Schull describes the strategic calculations behind game algorithms and machine ergonomics, casino architecture and "ambience management," player tracking and cash access systems--all designed to meet the market's desire for maximum "time on device." Her account moves from casino floors into gamblers' everyday lives, from gambling industry conventions and Gamblers Anonymous meetings to regulatory debates over whether addiction to gambling machines stems from the consumer, the product, or the interplay between the two.
Addiction by Design is a compelling inquiry into the intensifying traffic between people and machines of chance, offering clues to some of the broader anxieties and predicaments of contemporary life.
Natasha Dow Schüll's graduated Summa Cum Laude from UC Berkeley’s Department of Anthropology in 1993 and returned to receive her Ph.D. in 2003. She held postdoctoral positions as a Robert Wood Johnson Health and Society Scholar at Columbia University’s Institute for Social and Economic Research and Policy and as a fellow at NYU’s International Center for Advanced Studies. She joined MIT's Program in Science, Technology, and Society in 2007 and was awarded tenure in early 2015, before moving to NYU.
Schüll’s research has been supported by the National Science Foundation, the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation, the Woodrow Wilson Foundation, and the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, among other sources. Schüll’s research and op-eds have been featured in such national media venues as 60 minutes, The New York Times, The Economist, The Atlantic, The Washington Post, Capital Gazette, Financial Times, Forbes, Boston Globe, Salon, Chicago Tribune, Chicago Daily Herald, Las Vegas Sun, 99% Invisible, NPR, WGBH, and WNYC.
This is one of the best, most engaging academic books I have read in a long time. I am an academic, and my field of study is addiction. Needless to say, this kind of writing is totally my bag. However, I didn't just enjoy this book because I am a total nerd for the subject matter. Schull is also just a really good writer. I found her text approachable and engaging. She has a really excellent sense of narrative and flow, and her organization is linear, thematically sound, and well organized. I also LOVE that her chapters are all about 20-30 pages. All of this means that I read through it faster, processed the complex arguments more easily, and retained more of the content and message as I read along. It's an interesting book, but it's also just really well designed and put together.
I also appreciated that Schull doesn't pick the low hanging fruit of screamy social advocacy and calls of violence and victimization. Instead, she very successfully shows how the terrain of problem gambling and the gambling industry have grown in symbiosis with one another for decades. She shows how individual people are affected by that interaction not only on the casino floor, but also in schools, in casino headquarters, in research labs, testing facilities, in marketing agencies, and even in courts of law. There a a lot of people affected--some of them badly, but blame is very difficult to pin to a single entity, person, technology, or device.
The message of this book, as I read it, is that the physical and psychological realm of machine-based gambling is a leviathan--a leviathan that we all had a hand in building in one way or another--and the shape that it takes today, both on the macro level of corporations and financial statistics and on the micro level of individual players and checking accounts, reveals a great deal about who we are, who we think that we are, and the moral structure of the modern world that we have constructed for ourselves.
When I ask Mollie if she is hoping for a big win, she gives a short laugh and a dismissive wave of her hand. “In the beginning there was excitement about winning,” she says, “but the more I gambled, the wiser I got about my chances. Wiser, but also weaker, less able to stop. Today when I win—and I do win, from time to time—I just put it back in the machines. The thing people never understand is that I’m not playing to win.”
Why, then, does she play? “To keep playing—to stay in that machine zone where nothing else matters.”
Schüll's book is based on two concepts - the first is the 'machine zone', a state of calm where the outside environment and even one's own body seems to disappear. Gambling is not entirely done to maintain social status, but as an attempt to stay 'in the zone' as long as possible, betting so often that every single bet is evened out over hundreds or thousands of plays, and surrounded by the visual and auditory stimuli - and the response seems almost to feel in control - given the nature of gambling in electronic machines, the player had a high probability of losing all of the funds, but they felt better while doing so. Anything that keeps the player out of that zone is a distraction.
Consequently, the industry began to realize this in the 1990s, and so engineered video poker or electronic slot machines to cater to this demographic of players who went in for 'the zone'. This was a shift away from players who went for big jackpots and the old card tables. Instead, the shift was to give more players more 'time on device' and as a response to customer needs. This included changing casino or machinery layouts, adding more comfortable chairs, and changing the payout scheduling of machines to allow for more smaller ones, to keep the player engaged for a longer duration.
This is a relationship, but that is the second concept Schüll defines: "asymmetric collusion" between gambler and industry. The gambler wants to be in the zone as long as possible, and the industry wants as much money out of the transaction as possible. When the book shifts from a discussion of the design and engineering of the gambling industry to the gamblers themselves, "giving the customer what they want" becomes addictive.
Schüll draws from multiple theories on the state of 'flow' and 'asymmetric collusion'. For the former, she draws from the psychology of Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi - studying the state of 'flow' or complete focus on a single task, although some of her own interview subjects suggest the behaviorist proposals of B. F. Skinner - push button for reaction, stimulus and response. But additionally, Schüll makes a broader point about "asymmetric collusion" and suggests that this is more than just about electronic gambling, where it may be present in consumer-based industries, especially those with more modern technology. Examples that come to mind today include gambling in video games or 'pay-to-win' setups. And 'flow' itself was described by Csikszentmihalyi in a positive sense in a sense of escaping towards a goal in contrast to escaping something else. She asks the incisive questions here. This is an intriguing and well-written book but also a frightening one.
I’ve never been to Las Vegas or played a slot machine in my life - my gambling has been limited to the scratch and wins my grandma would tuck inside birthday cards and the occasional lottery ticket bought after a rough day at my work. But I was utterly wrapped up in this study of machine gambling and addiction. The author is a cultural anthropologist who focuses on technology. From the late 90s to 2007, she immersed herself in the topic, spending time in casinos, Gamblers Anonymous meetings, online forums, and industry expos, and interviewing casino managers, gamblers, game designers, and others. It’s very much an academic study, with lots of grounding in theory. But it was a fascinating read, and feels important. I read a library copy, but might order one of my own - I think I might well want to return to it in future when thinking about technology, addiction, markets.
There was so much in here that was new to me. I would have assumed, for example, that compulsive gamblers are chasing the elusive high of a win. But for the people addicted to machine gambling, the draw is ‘time on device’ and their relationship with the machine, the way that it enables them to shut out everything else. Wins can be just another distraction that slows down their interaction with the machine, unless they can feed the win right back in seamlessly as a credit. “A zone in which time, space, and social identity are suspended in the mechanical rhythm of a repeating process…”.
In terms of structure, the first part of the book explores the design of the machines and the spaces they inhabit. Next, Schull turns to the ways that game design has adapted to and has adapted gamblers, the ways the industry tracks player data, how gamblers relate to the machines, the nature of machine gambling addiction (described as a ‘co-production’ between the player and the product), and competing responses to addiction. I can only imagine how the technology of the games and the data mining has ‘improved’ since the time of her research, a sobering thought. Thorough, and excellent.
One of the most fascinating books I've ever read. It had everything I love - architecture, design, psychology, business, public policy! I have no interest in gambling, so I was surprised by how much I enjoyed this book.
The book is thorough yet covers a lot of topics, including the environmental design of casinos, the design and ergonomics of machines, how electronic slot machines are mapped so it looks like the odds are better, why people gamble, the way games adapt to players, the massive amount of data collected by player reward cards, the actions of gaming industry lobby groups and impact on government policies, and theories and issues related to recovery from gambling addiction.
It is well-researched, written in an accessible way, and interspersed by real quotes and stories from game designers, casino managers, academic researchers, and gambling addicts. The stories are integrated into the flow of the book, and not just tossed in as side-bar quotes.
I suspect my husband will be pleased I've finished reading this so I'll stop talking about it... "Did you know that 90% of Harrah's income comes from 10% of its gamblers?", "Casino architects make the ceilings low and cram the machines close together so people feel safe and cocooned and can get lost in the game", etc. It's that sort of book!
My main takeaway is anyone representing the gambling industry, fighting for it, or managing or running it deserves *****.
I'm not sure why, but I heard this book mentioned twice over the past few months and decided to read through it. The USA Gambling industry posted record profits in 2021, partially due to the increased presence of online gambling, sports betting, etc...
Countless tales of ruined lives, people at their bottom falling even lower, just to lose all their money to some chump named "Mark" or "Stan" who wants to maximize player revenue.. that's the gambling industry.
As a game developer, it wasn't that surprising to see insight into how the design of the games are manipulated - but what WAS new was that the focus of the design shifted since the '90s. It went from 'making it seem easier to win, but not' (with penny slots, more rows on slots) - to shifting to maximizing user engagement, or screen time. In another, nearby medium of entertainment, we might call this metric 'total playtime'. The public-facing rhetoric of the gambling industry is to maximize user comfort and make the experience difficult to stop or break away from.
More disturbing is how the rise of the digitizing gambling industry in the '90s and '00s seems to lead nicely into the rise of microtransaction-based games, gacha games, app-based gambling games. And ALL of these games follow modified design principles in gambling. The use of in-game credits instead of money (in order obfuscate the relation of money to credits), the user-retention strategy, the skinner box design, the sociopath 20-something game developer fuck who's just tweaking the design because they want to make a 'fun experience'.
In fact, the overall transformation of the videogaming industry in the past 15 years seems to be trying to toe the line between shitty gambling games and 'videogames'. It's not even just the worst examples of gacha games like Genshin or AAA stuff like Assassin's Creed - it's become 'common knowledge' even amongst indie game developers that infinite playtime is a goal to strive for - maximizing screen time, maximizing the number of content creators streaming a game, attracting more and more people and their money.
While videogames have always had the ability to cause self-annihilation, they've gotten even better than before at doing so. It's weird how much contemporary game designers have absorbed gambling-based beliefs and now view it as 'good practice' - retention, engagement, trying to 'maximize the player experience' which is veiled, self-deluded way of trying to keep people playing your dumb skinner box game.
I hear the same arguments from 'leftist' indie developers about gacha games - how they're not problematic because people can simply 'choose to play less' - echoing the same talk that gambling industry shills will say when they refuse to regulate how the machines work (choosing to put responsibility onto the individual).
Well, anyways, I guess this book makes me wonder what exactly transpired in the past 10 years of the gambling industry (as it kind of ends around 2010). Also if the USA financial crisis has any relation to the rise of app-based gaming or streaming or something.
One of the best books out there on how casinos work. I always thought that casinos were simply a place where you put together a bunch of gambling equipment randomly and you were good to go, and boy, wrong would still be a benign word for that notion. This book cleared that VERY flawed notion and provided a much needed insight into what goes into the meticulous planning of a casino so that the most amount of value can be extracted from the patrons. The author has done a wonderful job with the research and the in-depth interviews.
This book took over my brain this summer! I can’t count the amount of times I brought it up in conversation.
Dow-Shüll provides a precise examination of the human/machine relationship under late stage capitalism. It’s about gambling, but it’s really about everythingggg. Highly recommend.
Harrowing stuff. Many parallels to the legalization of online sports betting that have recently taken place across North America wherein sportsbooks will run ad campaigns detailing their "responsible gambling tools" and the importance of "knowing your limits." These sort of slogans are also prevalent in the machine gambling world, where "responsible gaming" is encouraged and repeated. Schüll ripostes this with the fact that only 4 per cent of machine gambling revenue comes from what would be considered responsible gaming. The overwhelming amount of profits come from problem and addicted gamblers and the ostensible concerns from the gambling industry are PR stunts plain and simple. I feel this will also be the case with sports betting.
The most striking aspect of this book for me is brought up early and often in this volume: gambling addicts know they're going to lose. The incentives for the problem gambler have been assembled at the intersection of psychological disorder, product design, capitalist economics, and local regulation. The objective: increase the time on device for an addicted customer.
This interaction is the product of many defensible decisions, but has a devastating effect on the lives and finances of real people: so called "player extinction". This book's 300+ pages paint a harrowing picture of an industry which knowingly makes a drastically disproportionate percentage of revenues on the backs of people it encourages into a psychological malady. Simply fascinating. ****/*****.
Machine gambling provides a strangely deep, layered lens through which to understand the affective management of the self. Strange fixations, compulsive behavior, finding the death drive in losing all your money. The displacement activity for displaced minds. The affects native to the last days of an empire, loss of control, the heterotopic quality of an activity composed of risks, but whose ultimate results is deterministic: not having any more money.
Probably a better book about the nature of the smartphone than anything ever written about the smartphone.
Didn't really know what I was getting into here, but this is an anthropological study about addiction, vice, gambling, and the casino industry. However evil you think casinos already are, this book makes it pretty clear that they're ten times worse. A book that made me rethink my relationship with technology in general, and the people who create it.
In this book about how people who play video poker and slot machines play not for the reward of winning money, but for the reward of being able to play longer, there's list of preconditions for an activity that lets you get into the state of "flow" (which you sometimes achieve, for instance, when programming) where your sense of time fades along with your concern for the troubles of everyday life: 1. each moment of the activity must have a little goal 2. the rules for attaining that goal must be clear 3. the activity must give immediate feedback so that one has certainty, moment to moment, where one stands 4. the tasks of the activity must be matched with operational skills, bestowing a sense of simultaneous control and challenge
And I thought, HOLY CRAP THIS IS WHY KERBAL SPACE PROGRAM IS SO ADDICTIVE.
Interesting but gets a bit tedious towards the last quarter. Could have been paced better. Could have been edited down to about 70% or expanded to add a lot more about the actual machinations that they refer to but never really get into the mechanics or maths of.
As gambling as shifted unrecognisably away from being a place of ‘fatefulness’ and of social, competitive thrills as in the 1960s, it’s developed into a highly designed, solitary activity where players can access the numbing, affectless ‘machine zone’ and corporations can reap its complement of ‘continuous gaming productivity’. With precise and elegant writing Schüll examines all aspects of the current machine gambling paradigm, the people, ideas and machines that make up the industry in a tour de force of social science that employs anthropology, sociology, psychology and economics with a philosophical backbone of Foucault and Delueze to craft a comprehensive analysis. Throughout, the book elucidates the dynamic linkages between the many different agents and their outputs in the industry, such as how a feedback loop operates between the continually evolving mathematical payoff schedule of the machine that optimises for the ‘machine zone’ and players who become ever more accustomed to greater flow and ‘time on device’. The culminating example of these dynamic linkages is the question of gambling addiction: it’s an emergent property with a vast number of interlinked causes, from physical and digital architecture, data driven nudges in advertising, the exacerbating nature of most addiction treatments and the susceptibility of the players themselves.
Interestingly, while Schüll does write about the common features of volatility and unexpected tragedies in problem gambler’s lives (linking this with the Freudian death drive) and hypothesises that this might cause them to find safety in the ‘machine zone’, she does not discuss in detail the possible heritability of gambling addiction. Naturally, this is made much more difficult by the co-opting of this research by industry backed institutes and academics, but I would have liked to have seen more of a discussion on this beyond the necessary but obvious refutation that individuals (which I understand as the sum of a player’s life events, genetic predisposition and their partly overlapping sense of personal responsibility) are not wholly responsible for their addiction.
I was inspired to read this partly by seeing the machine zone applied to social media in a direct analogy between machine gambling and Twitter. However, when the psychologist Csikszentmihalyi’s ‘flow’ concept was raised, I found myself reflecting on my own habits and activities beyond social media, and how under the right conditions chess, for example, can become self-destroying and an ‘escape backward’ just like machine gambling. In addition, I read this in Australia, home to the country with the highest person per machine ratio in the world (eighty people for every machine!). I even accidentally visited the largest casino in the Southern Hemisphere in Melbourne where ‘pokies’ and baccarat tables played by Asian junkets compete for space in a labyrinthine, sweepingly surveilled complex.
Finally, the book was published in 2012, so how has it held it up ten years later? Schüll did not make any specific predictions beyond that her methodological framework would become increasingly applicable, and in that she was certainly right. The ideas of the book, especially the ‘machine zone’ and the mechanisms by which it is reached, have proliferated into all areas of life that to talk about the dangerous, addictive excesses of social media and frictionless stock investing in 2022 seem like the height of early 2010s naïveté. In a strange way, I think there is something nostalgic about this analysis of a straightforwardly exploitative, evasive industry that acts in collusion with the government to collect a regressive tax on the weakest part of society. Gambling is one of the original vices together with tobacco and alcohol that dominated the 20th century and in that sense, while Schüll is of course depicting its metastasis into an asymmetric, solitary activity, the books concern with gambling feels like the product of a much simpler time. I think this is connected to the rise of what the sociologist Aris Komporozos-Athanasiou calls speculative communities as the world becomes further uncertain and financialised as platforms such as Uber, crypto markets and Airbnb proliferate. This ever-present requirement in society to be the self-managing, actuarial being that Schüll writes as being both subverted and conformed to by problem machine gamblers has increased for everyone to create a disturbing, constant background buzz for everyday life.
Overall, this book is fascinating and indirectly complements other canonical depictions of growing American atomisation and nihilism.
A really good book on a very narrow topic - the addiction of people to machine gambling in Las Vegas. Dow Schull is a true academic which is a good thing. She has done thorough research - reviewing other research, attending conferences, talking to the people who are the subjects of her research. Her conclusions are pretty startling, at least to me. Machine gamblers are fully aware that they will lose as the odds are with the house. And as a first year course in statistics will teach us, with every successive game that the odds are against the player, the money eventually runs out. Their goal is not to beat the odds, but to last as long as possible totally in the zone they enter when machine gambling. These problem gamblers are in a special zone when they are interacting with the machines. We hear stories of people spending many many hours in front of the video poker games with strategies on how to keep themselves fed and attending to the other needs of nature so that their time away from the machine is minimal.
Dow Schull explores machine gambling from all perspective - how casinos lay out the floorspace for their games, the best acoustics and colours, the hardware that is ergonomically right for the gamblers, the best screen interface, and the software that runs the machine. Finally, we meet the gamblers themselves. So sad.
It's hard not to conclude from the book that these games should be condemned and banned. Obviously that's never going to happen. But the problem has gotten worse as state and provincial governments have rushed in to to the video game gambling business. And the usual conundrums are there. Is it machines or gamblers that are the problem? If you slow down the games or put other controls on them, will gamblers not find work arounds?
A fascinating examination of machine gambling and how every bit of its hardware and software is designed to weave into a player's psyche and carefully extract as much money and time as possible.
It's easy to empathize with the players introduced throughout the book. They're not looking for a big high-stakes payday, they're playing primarily to enter the "machine zone," where the worries and stress of their daily lives disappear and they exist in a solitary flow state. Gotta say that does sound appealing some days...
I shudder to imagine a version of this book that delves into the proliferation of sports betting apps over the last few years, which are no doubt designed with the same malicious meticulousness.
A masterful book, at times slow and a bit clunky only because Schull is trying to do so much. Among the best academic monographs I’ve ever read and certain to remain an exemplar for mapping the intimate entanglements between people and technology (for the next decade or so, at least).
I have a weird fixation on our current online gambling environment. This was a good place to start exploring that in a more in-depth way than youtube video essays
I really shouldn't have read this right after Nuclear War. Together they stand out as two profoundly sad books, casting a dark light on humanity's vulnerabilities.
The book's analysis of the deliberate design of addiction is both eye-opening and unsettling. I didn't realize before that gambling addicts aren't driven by monetary reward, but by the compulsion of the process itself. This bolsters my theory that algorithmic feed apps like TikTok and Instagram operate on exactly the same principles (and should be treated the same as gambling, at least, if not cocaine).
On one level, gambling is a perfectly voluntary exchange. Even if an individual knows they'll lose money in the medium-to-long run, it still may be a rational choice to gamble, as the fun benefit may counterbalance the house edge. It certainly helps to know the games with the slimmest house edges as well, and go into it with a working knowledge of probability.
This book is about everything casinos and patrons do to reject that account of gambling. Casinos (and in particular, slot machines) use every psychological trick available to them to make the exchange as bad faith as possible: they purposefully give people false expectations of the odds (near misses, virtual reels), they disguise losses as wins, the design their casino floors with gradual curving paths that lead to comfortable nooks in which a particularly addled gambler would never think to leave. They do absolutely everything in their power to extract every dollar from you that they can. And they openly admit this.
And here's the thing: as the book clearly explains, this is only half the story. The reason this industry is this way is because that's what degenrate gamblers WANT. They want to be left along in the zone and see their funds dissolve into nothing, they want to forget about their problems and kill time.
The accounts of the tactics that casinos/slot machine manufacturers employ were interesting and sometimes shocking in their brazenness. The accounts of the gamblers' stories were heartbreaking and sometimes unfathomable. What you have here is a sort of cross between a symbiotic and parasitic relationship, like a male praying mantis going to reproduce knowing it will get its head bitten off.
This is where the book shines, in clearly laying out the shared relationship nature of gambling addiction. It is not just a product of the casino industry preying on unsuspecting victims (though it is in part) and it is not just a bunch of weak-willed people who don't know when to say "when" (though it is a particular pathology that makes one more likely to fall victim to such a misdirected desire - often a desire for control where that need is not being met elsewhere).
However, the tack the book takes around that strong core thesis is very frustrating and very unsatisfying. The author takes every opportunity to draw parallels to Marx, Freud, Derrida, Max Weber, etc... which I suppose would be fine except it does NOT really help us understand the topic at hand, but merely serves to further a separate point regarding the supposed flaws of modern consumer capitalism. In addition to being not all that convincing of this separate point, it leads the author to some truly bewildering comparisons like how gambling is like early industrial capitalism because the both involve a "quick movement of the hand" and how stocks and bonds, hedge funds etc are just money to be "played with" which parallels how casinos treat in house credits.
Some of the references to sociological theorist are more enlightening. In particular the discussion of Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi's concept of "Flow" really is an excellent framework to explore the compulsions of many gamblers. Unlike the flimsy parallels above, from the quotes and accounts of the addicted gamblers, it really does seem that many of then were seeking or describing a state of Flow.
What to do about the status quo is left a bit open ended, unsatisfyingly so. All the author says on this point is that modern regulations are not as comprehensive as they could be (in part due to regulatory capture of the sector, a point to which I am sympathetic) and laments the trajectory of inevitable expansion of the industry.
If you can move past these sub par elements (which can get a bit much in places but is ultimately not fatal to the book's main thesis) this is an excellent run down on the many concerns in the modern gambling industry.
A bit too niche for my taste, but a good read generally regarding the potential root causes of addiction in 21st century capitalist society i.e. a burning desire to escape from the everyday pressures of "self-optimization" culture. I want to shout out the "user experience" breakdown here the author provides re: modern day casino floor plans, gambling machines, and rewards programs (TLDR: beware of compounding probabilities and random number generators, also..."adaptive" play speeds). Everything is symbiotic and we are all cyborgs, apparently.
On this note: I suppose the idea that everyone has the capacity to develop addictive habits and tendencies, and that part of (if not a lot) of the blame must go towards the designers of these gaming/gambling machines is both comforting and saddening. The world at large is inherently manipulative and the goal is nothing more than profit taking i.e. from a macro-perspective it's often not the individual's fault (as with shit like climate change too). I was hoping we'd get a bit more critique/recommendations addressing how to go about the potential "break-up" of this symbiosis.
In this respect it's a bit like Zuboff's "Age of Surveillance Capitalism" in that it lays out all key "holes" in one's understanding of a very specific phenomena, but it refuses to get down and dirty with how to eradicate such holes.
To end, while the book and Dow's framework and her research was nothing short of thorough and amazing, I do wish that the author was more explicit in her stances on the whole symbiotic relationship between machines/gambling addicts, and more pointed in her recommendations on what casino operators/legislators needed to do to protect addiction-sufferers more.
P.S.
That Lotus Hotel and Casino shit from Percy Jackson where they get frozen in time...more on the nose than I thought. Not sure if I like Rick Riordan more or less now that I know that he didn't have to go too far to stretch the whole Lotus Eaters = gamblers suspended in timeless zone shtick.
This academic work is a thorough explanation of how people become addicted to machine gambling (slots, video poker, and so on), and the cultural contradictions inherent in most treatment strategies. Schüll argues that machine gambling is misunderstood, both in the previous academic literature and in culture at large. Its appeal is different from that of table games; whereas those games offer gamblers a macho thrill of calculated risk, machine gamblers do not play to win, or even to teeter on the knife's edge. Instead, they play to enter a simplified zone of decision-making, where the tumultuous uncertainty inherent in life has been smoothed and reorganized into clear binary states with clear inputs and outputs. Although a slot machine's visual representation of the odds is often dishonest--"near misses" can be programmed to appear more often than the odds would suggest, to spur players on--the actual statuses become clear through repeated play.
Those who wish to leave the zone have to navigate a city where gambling is enmeshed with the biggest employers, and with staples such as food and transit. But escaping Vegas is daunting because it also has the largest and most sophisticated support community for gambling addicts.
Schüll's book has taken on a second life as a prophetic account of social media addiction. Many of her lessons can be ported over to the way we interact with Twitter or Tiktok, where we pay with personal information instead of chips. Online is even harder to escape than Vegas. But I want to stress that Schüll herself does not push this connection, and shouldn't be blamed for any problems in application.
Addiction by Design marshals a variety of interesting sources, from industry conferences to ethnography to the Congressional record. Her treatment of cultural theory can sometimes feel tacked on, as if it were a professional obligation. Bruno Latour and Gilles Deleuze are extremely helpful here, Freud not so much.
Machine gambling is a bellwether for the dangers of the human/machine encounter. Machine gambling is, as prof dow-schull reveals, more bizarre beneath the surface. Basically repeat gamblers will spend not just excessive -- barely physically plausible -- amounts of time gambling on machines. They will not go to the bathroom, not eat, and refuse to be disturbed. Dow Schull cites cases where players did not move from their seats when a neighbor is on the floor convulsing from a heart attack, becoming an impediment to paramedics. The genius of the game design is hardly revolutionary -- basic positive reinforcement with variable-reward scheduling -- rather the way the players are sucked in to the elusive 'zone,' the way the designers continually ratchet up the intensity of play, and the way the play perfectly stimulates some neural circuits that cause the players to spend maximum time on device is fascinating and horrifying. Dow Schull's humble choice of subject matter, largely a vice of the elderly, the female, and the working class, and her appraisal of their inescapable hell (TIL casinos will refill oxygen tanks and perscriptions if you play enough!), is inspirational scholarship. I'm struck by the similarity between wireheading (where one stimulates the pleasures of one's brain) and machine gambling. Also by the way our tiny smartphone 'addictions' could actually be so much worse.
Great overview of the gambling business and the addition it's thriving upon. Natasha shows how the gambling ecosystem is designed to create and develop the addiction. The book reflects a solid research work that Natasha conducted. All theses are backed up by examples. All examples are concrete, detailed and linked to the sources. That was a great read. I've never thought how thoroughly casinos research and design all sides of the gambling experience. AB experiments, big data analysis, user segmentation etc.