Opinion: Gaming has morphed into gambling for millions who can't afford it — and neither can we
As the founder and CEO of Imagination Pilots, a Chicago-based CD-ROM computer game developer, I spent many years writing, designing and building games in the industry's infancy. One of the most critical design objectives in creating these products — which were intended to become immersive, entertaining and addictive — was to make sure that the games delivered a recurring series of dopamine jolts and emotional triggers, elevating levels and acknowledged accomplishments, growing rewards and measurable incentives. In short, compelling reasons to continue playing.
In the same way that movies and TV shows are built on multiple storylines, beats and cliffhangers to heighten and extend attention and interest levels, games were also designed to pull the players into new engaging and imaginary worlds and prolong their participation. Games are all about manufacturing the need for next.
If this all sounds sadly familiar in terms of today's world of mobile-enabled social media addiction, destructive and manipulative disinformation and enragement driven by continued exposure to lies and garbage, that's partly on me, because we built some of the earliest programs and algorithms that were foundational elements to this debacle. An entire generation has grown up with the continued need for speed and stimulation, and there's very little we can do to slow the pace or the momentum. Adrenaline and virality are everything.
Worse yet, in our college students and, even more critically, in the waves of new employees joining our businesses, we are seeing the effects and debilitating symptoms of a generation raised and educated in a world where nearly every waking hour is spent glued to and interacting with their phones. If you don't think this impacts the effectiveness and productivity of your kids and your team members at work, you haven't walked around your semi-empty offices lately.
I never imagined that the engagement tools and strategies we built would lead to anything as disturbing and harmful as we see today. And I fear that we're about to see things become even worse, especially for Gen Z continuing to enter the workforce, as the desires, addictions and dopamine-driven emotional demands embedded over years of Xbox-, Nintendo- and PlayStation-based gaming are now beginning to quickly morph into mobile device-enabled gambling. At least the early computers and video-game consoles were place-based; today, 24/7 smartphone connectivity means that the problems are growing exponentially and will quickly spread across the workplace.
With the same obliviousness that we applied to the risks and painful ills of indiscriminate and unregulated social media, we're now casually inviting several immature and uninformed generations into the two biggest virtual casinos in history: the stock market and sports betting. And, once again, we're kidding ourselves in thinking that everything will work out well.
The craziness started in earnest a couple of years before the pandemic, courtesy of firms such as Robinhood, which added millions of untrained and unsophisticated players to the markets and precipitated the rise and insane gyrations of meme stocks like GameStop. And, of course, the cult-like trading insanity surrounding the Trump Media & Technology Group, with revenues for 2023 of around $4 million and losses approaching $60 million, has simply turned everything into a nihilistic game where MAGAs think they're teaching a lesson to "the man" and rooting for their guy at the same time.
Encouraging young men who can't afford and don't remotely appreciate the complexity and risks of the stocks they trade on their phone — rewarded by confetti, sound effects and other dopamine drivers similar to games — isn't likely to move the needle forward on financial literacy anytime soon. We're already seeing the workplace results in our younger employees: lost focus, indifference and a world of "whatever," less interest in connection and peers, and a basic angry belief that life's not fair and there's no longer any prospect that they will have a chance to get theirs.
The returning crypto frenzy with new Bitcoin highs and the FOMO effect in an expanding tech-driven stock market, with equities reaching new heights, are making things even worse. Investing has become a game, with high pleasure and reward levels and little or no effort, study or analysis required. I'm reluctant to call these crypto, NFT and meme idiots "investors" or their actions "investments" for obvious reasons. When the Trump meme scam finally does collapse, all those victims will also be blaming everyone but themselves.
If the stock and crypto issues aren't bad enough, we've now upped the frantic ante by adding digital sports betting to the mix. Just try to pry your folks away from their phones and screens during March Madness, when the office betting pools represent a mere pittance compared with the bucks they've bet with their online bookies on the big games. Or take a gander at Wrigley Field, where a gigantic new DraftKings Sportsbook (which looks like some ugly cancerous growth attached to the glorious ivy) has opened.
There's a storm coming. There are no easy answers. The success of your business and the futures of your kids could hang in the balance, and you've been warned.
Howard Tullman, general managing partner of investment firm G2T3V, is the former CEO of 1871 in Chicago and former executive director of the Kaplan Institute at Illinois Tech.
