Lögberg-Heimskringla - 11.02.1994, Blaðsíða 3

Lögberg-Heimskringla - 11.02.1994, Blaðsíða 3
Lögberg-Heimskringla • Föstudagur 11. febrúar 1994 • 3 Playing for high stakes - lceiand’s gambling market T ■ by Rab Christie Not even a hint of charity could be found in the torrent of criticism which greeted a decision this autumn by Iceland’s Justice Minister Thorsteinn Pálsson to grant the University of Iceland licence to set up a chain of state-of-the-art computerised slot machines at strategically located points around the country. From the halls of academe to the normally caring atmos- phere of the Icelandic Red Cross, the debate raged back and forth, conducted for the most part through the nation- al media where mutual recrim- inations and counter-accusa- tions traded places faster than the bank in a game of vingt-et- un. At stake was a share of Iceland’s gambling market, proceeds from which, accord- ing to a recent article in daily Morgunblaðið, this year should reach at least USD18 million at current exchange rates. Not bad for a country in which the pursuit, at least in the widely understood sense of the word, is illegal: no bookmakers, no casinos, no dice. But Icelanders love a flut- ter. Last year alone, they spent almost USD55 million satisfy- ing the urge, most of it in lot- teries, almost USD250 for every man, woman and child in the country. Under present law, gam- bling is available in only three forms; slot machines, lotteries and a national football pool, all sharing the common pur- Pose of raising money for national charities, sports bevelopment, or the universi- fy, the organization at the heart of the current controver- sy- Therein lies the rub. In recent years, Iceland’s chari- tms have been growing increasingly dependent for funding on income derived from gambling. As the market- has grown, so too have the outlets. Legally speaking, the university should hold all the aces, an act of parliament of 1933 having given it exclusive rights to operate a national lottery as a means of raising capital, a privilege which it still holds — and for which it still pays. Until fairly recently, lottery income was sufficient fof jt§ needs, but as student numbers have increased, overheads risen, and research costs bal- looned, this is no longer the case. To make matters worse, the university has seen takings from its lottery shrink at an alarming rate, from over USD7 million in 1988, to only USD2.8 million this year, a trend that shows no sign of abating despite the introduc- tion of scratch tickets produc- ing instant winnings to com- plement the older three- monthly prize draws. In addition, the university’s top jackpot win of around USD75.000, once the object of many an Icelander’s dreams, has now paled into insignificance alongside the instant fortunes promised by the National Lottery, intro- duced in 1986 and drawn each week and whose benefi- ciaries include the Iceland Sports Federation, the Iceland Federation of the Handicapped and the Icelandic Youth Association. But neither of these can compare with the Viking Lottery. Operated by the five Nordie countries and adminis- tered in Ieeland by the National Lottery, this branch of chance’s dream factory opened earlier this year, offer- ing a weekly first prize some- where in the region of USD500,000, which, if not won, carries on into the next draw. On more than one occa- sion, scooping a cumulative three-week pot has trans- formed the lucky winner, or winners, into instant million- aires, bestowing them with sums in excess of USD1.8 mil- lion, although to date, only one Icelander has ever won first prize, sharing a single pot with a competitor from abroad, Beside this, the Univcrsity Lottery as it stands is very small beer indeed, while for their part, current slot machine payouts of USD45-112 are hardly likely to set pulses racing. In submitting its applica- tion to the Ministry of Justice for permission to set up 350 computer-linked machines at 20-27 locations around the country — a scheme it has christened with disarming frankness “The Gold Mine” - the university cited two goals: the need to recoup its market share, plus the opportunity it wou.ld provide to entice ’ t *** NEWS FROM ICELAND Hopeful customers queue to buy lottery tickets at the convenience store Gerpla in the west of Reykjavík. Reputed to be lceland’s “luckiest" outlet in terms of winnings, the shop attracts patrons from well outside the capital area, enticed by the prospect of massive jackpot wins. potential punters with a form of gambling incorporating the ingredient to which they are clearly most attracted — instant gratification — and the promise of a jackpot which could exceed USD140,000. Enter the opposition, spearheaded by the Icelandic Red Cross (IRC), an organiza- tion which for the past 20 years or so has, in concert with three other charities, operated a ne^work of slot machines distributed in shops, restaurants and bus depots around Iceland. Today, these number around 400 found at some 200 locations, and although tak- ings from them account for only about 11% of the gam- bling market, they generate a massive 75-90% of the möney raised by these organizations. This year alone, they are expected to yield almost USD6.7 million, USD5 miL lion of which will go to the IRC, USDl.l million to rescue teams within the National Life-Saving Association, and the remainder to SAA, the Laymen’s Society on Alcoholism, an organization which operates, among other things, a treatment facility for , alcoholics and drug abusers. Which is where the affair ; takes yet another twist. Although no figures exist, research has shown that com- pulsive gambling is becoming an increasingly serious prob- lem among Icelanders. According to some estimates, up to 2,000 people, almost 1 % of the total population, are affected by the condition, increasing numbers of whom end up in treatment pro- grammes at, among other places, SAA. In addition, police forces around the country, particu- larly in the Reykjavík conur- bation, claim that gambling- related crime, especially among teenagers, is on the rise, and that offences such as burglary, petty theft, credit card fraud and cheque forgery can often be traced directly to youngsters hooked on slot machines. Legally speaking, this should not be possible, as minors under 16 years are not permitted to play them. In practice however, this law is largely ignored, not only due to the difficulty of enforcing it, but also due to the fact that no one seems to be sure exactly who is responsible for doing so. Taking this into account, the University Lottery has promised that when — and if — its machines are actually installed, they wil be confined to places to which minors either do not have access, or sét up in specially designed, closely supervised arcades as is the case abroad. However, far from being praised for its apparent civic mindedness, the university has now found itself accused by its opponents of attempting to establish what would amount to little more than casinos. In this respect it would seem, it just cannot win. Meanwhile, in what was perhaps a last desperate — if calculated — throw of the dice, opponents of the scheme upped the ante. In Iceland, the chances of a natural disas- ter such as an earthquake or volcanic eruption are much more than vague possibilities confined to the small print of an insurance policy. Under present planning, it falls to the country’s gambling-supported rescue teams and their thou- sands of highly trained, well- equipped members to clear danger areas, evacuate casual- ties and provide first aid for victims in co-operation with the Iceland Civil Defence. In an interview with daily Morgunblaðið, Gudjón Mag- nússon, chairman of the Icelandic Red Cross, placed his cards firmlý on the table, stating that if the University Lottery had its way, rescue services would no longer feel able to fulfil these obligations. Almost since record-keep- ing began, severe earthquakes have hit the heavily populated south at regular intervals of less than a century. With the next event now overdue, no self-respecting bookmaker would offer any thing more than very short odds on it not occurring in the near future. Question is, in the light of the Red Cross/Rescue Service statement, is anyone prepared to take the chance on losing this vital service which in most other countries would be provided by the army or other paramilitary organization? Vociferous as they may be, the Red Cross and rescue ser- vices are by no means the only organizations affected by the university scheme. Other lot- tery-funded charities such as the Association of Tubercu- losis Patients and the Retired Seamen’s Home also stand to lose significantly. For Iceland’s justice minis- ter, the issue was an emotive one, charged with potential political risks. Among its opponents, the university scheme had produced not so much a flutter, more a cardiac arrest. Given the initial tone of the debate, few would have bet on it being settled quickly, but in fact it was. In future, the Red Cross and its partners will be allowed to operate a maxi- mum of 500 slot machines nationwide and the University 400, 65 of these to be located on three separate premises specially designed for the pur- pose, two of which will be in Reykjavik. Profits will be divided on a 4:2 ratio. Effective for the next three years, it is a settlement of which King Solomon himself would surely have approved. - • COURTESY OFNEWSFROMICELAND

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