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