Abstract
Dewey (1913, p. 725) defined play as “activities, which are not consciously performed for the sake of any result beyond themselves; activities which are enjoyable in their own execution without reference to ulterior purpose”. Similarly, for Caillois (1967), play is something separate from work, a free and entertaining activity that does not result in the creation of any economic value. It is this question of value and purpose that has separated gambling from play and games. From an economic perspective, gambling can be argued not to produce value, but merely transfer and circulate it (Young & Markham, 2017). However, from the perspective of the gambler, the act of gambling is staking something of value for the purpose of winning something.
Games and play have not been characterised by the risk of losing or winning something of value. Instead, these activities are valuable in themselves as forms of entertainment or leisure – at least until digitalisation has turned the gaming world into big business. In digital environments, social gaming has become increasingly prevalent and lucrative, and game play has become monetised and commercialised in a very similar way to gambling. Micropayments and loot boxes, in particular, have received research attention due to their similarities to gambling (e.g., Drummond & Sauer, 2018; Macey et al., 2022). In some jurisdictions, regulators are also taking action to limit gambling-like features in gaming (Derrington et al., 2021).
Understanding what unites and what separates the worlds of gambling and gaming has become a crucial question for research, harm prevention and regulation. Games without Frontiers (2021), Heather Wardle's first book, delivers an inspiring and comprehensive introduction to these topics from a historical as well as contemporary perspective.
Wardle shows that what has recently become called “convergence” between gambling and gaming (e.g., Gainsbury, 2019; Kim & King, 2020) is actually a new phase in a long, shared history. The relationship between gambling and gaming has recently amplified and accelerated due to the digital turn and technological developments, such as fast payments and constant availability. Wardle approaches these topics from two complementary perspectives: a cultural perspective and an industry perspective. The discussion on convergence therefore not only refers to an intersection of game characteristics, but also to wider processes in industry and society.
From a cultural perspective, games and gambling have always been inspired by each other, and they have also always reflected and drawn from societal norms. As Wardle argues, the proliferation and normalisation of commercial gambling (see also Livingstone et al., 2018; Wardle et al., 2019) has become embedded in societies and reflected in societal norms. The gaming industry is not only drawing from gambling-like mechanisms for profit, but also because gambling is a socially and culturally understood concept. The games we play therefore tell us about who we are and what kind of a society we live in.
From an industry perspective, the proliferation of digital channels for both gambling and gaming has resulted in converging industry practices. Gambling and gaming companies compete for the attention of (sometimes the same) consumers. To attract and retain players, companies employ industry practices such as appealing to the personal tastes of players and designing absorbing and “addictive” products. Many examples of similarities between digital gambling and digital gaming emerge throughout the book.
Both gaming and gambling companies employ persuasive technologies to increase time-on-device (cf. Schüll, 2012) and money spent in-game. Profit is no longer dependent on the number of copies sold of individual games, but rather on associated microtransactions or chance-based mechanisms that can boost game play. This makes the power dynamics between producers and consumers in both gambling and gaming highly asymmetric (cf. Sulkunen, 2022) – companies have data on consumers that can be used to influence and extract further consumption. As Wardle (2021, p. 71) argues, “data-driven customer acquisition and retention generates the conditions for these two sectors to co-operate, innovate, in some cases exploit, but also learn from each other”. Sometimes gambling and gaming products are even provided by the same companies, looking to convert social gaming into real-money gambling and cross-sell these products to the same consumer groups.
Gaming has the potential to produce similar harms as gambling. Like gambling (Fiedler et al., 2019), monetary consumption on gaming is highly concentrated: the bulk of the revenue of some digital gaming companies comes from a small percentage of the most active players. Similar industry practices across gambling and gaming also encourage consumers to spend more time and money than they would have initially intended. This has potentially disruptive consequences for their lives. Yet, and as has been the case for gambling for a long time, responsibility for these harms is pushed on consumers. Consumers are expected to gamble or play “responsibly”, and parents are expected to control the gaming of their children. At the same time, placing this responsibility on consumers deflects attention away from harmful industry practices that undermine supposed consumer sovereignty (cf. Cassidy, 2020; Francis & Livingstone, 2021).
Wardle explores the gambling-like mechanisms and industry practices in gaming through a variety of intriguing examples. Although loot boxes have received the most attention among researchers and policy makers, the book also explores a variety of other systems, such as social casinos, fantasy sports, skin betting, trading rooms, esports, microtransactions and the symbolics of gambling within gaming products. Notably, skin betting has been found to predict gambling problems and gambling harms, particularly among the youth (Greer et al., 2022; Wardle, 2019). Although betting can occur with in-game currency, Wardle shows how for some consumers these currencies can also hold a value, quite similarly to real-life money.
New gambling products are also incorporating characteristics from gaming, including features such as enhanced interactivity or the possibility to “level up”. Bookmakers and sometimes casinos are also offering betting on esports or virtual races to stay relevant for the younger consumers. The “marriage” between sports and gambling (cf. Nosal, 2022) therefore becomes extended to esports and gambling.
Should we be worried about this increasing interaction between (digital) gambling and gaming? A thought-provoking chapter in Wardle's book answers this question in the words of young individuals. Wardle interviewed 50 young people (aged 14–17 years) on their perceptions regarding gambling-like gaming products. The level of insight of the young interviewees is staggering. Young people are aware of the industry practices that influence them and keep them playing. They are also aware of the power that gaming companies have in controlling their consumption patterns. At the same time, gaming is such an important part of the lives of the young, that they do it anyway; as one interview put it, “because they [the industry] know we’ll do it. We need it” (Wardle, 2021, p. 95).
Play and games are of course not problematic in themselves. Games can be a social glue, and they can provide entertainment. Play is fundamental for human learning and development (Dewey, 1913). However, the commercial determinants of harm that are incorporated in the commodification of gaming, just like gambling, can be problematic. Asymmetries of power, monetisation of play, addictive game characteristics, lack of consumer sovereignty, attracting young consumers and even using “gaming” to circumvent gambling regulations are all practices that should be addressed with strict regulation.
Yet, and despite the convergence of commercial practices, gaming and gambling are typically not regulated under the same legal framework. This is perhaps due to the legal definitions, or the lack of public attention given to harms from gaming in comparison to its possible economic benefits. Despite continuing shortcomings in existing regulatory approaches (Orford, 2019) gambling harms are nevertheless addressed with some harm reduction measures. The gaming industry, on the other hand, is perceived as a growth industry capable of producing employment and tax revenue. This type of framing leaves little space for discussion on possible public health harms.
Heather Wardle's book is an excellent introduction to these topics. At the same time, it also raises many questions for further research to focus on. Where can we draw the line between what is called gambling and gaming? What are the substitution effects between gambling and gaming products? What are the longer-term impacts that gambling-like (or “gambling-lite”, Wardle, 2021, p. 88) gaming has on the young generations growing up with these products? But, also, it raises the question of what kind of possibilities there are for learning among regulators and researchers looking to advocate for policies that target harmful industry practices across sectors .
The book makes for informative and entertaining reading for anyone interested in games, play and commercial determinants of harm. Even if most examples used in the book come from the British context, the increasingly global nature of the gaming and gambling markets ensure that everyone can recognise their own childhood (and adulthood!) game favourites and identify with the world of play that is unravelled throughout the book.
