John's Story

When Government Inaction Has a Price Tag: The Case for Regulatory Accountability in Gambling Harm

The gambling industry often deflects responsibility for harm by invoking "personal responsibility"—the idea that individuals alone bear the burden of their gambling choices. But what happens when someone takes personal responsibility, seeks help, and the very systems designed to protect them fail spectacularly? My story illustrates why we need a serious conversation about government accountability when regulatory negligence enables preventable harm.

The Anatomy of Systemic Failure

In August 2017, after losing approximately $150,000 with Ladbrokes, I recognized I had a gambling problem. I took the responsible step: permanent self-exclusion. I did exactly what advocates, politicians, and the gambling industry tell problem gamblers to do. I sought help.

But here's where personal responsibility collided with regulatory dysfunction. Despite being permanently excluded from one operator, I could immediately open accounts with others. In 2018, I lost around $248,000 with TabTouch, licensed by the WA Government. In 2019, another $150,000 disappeared with BlueBet, licensed by NSW Liquor & Gaming. Total losses: $548,000 across three different regulatory jurisdictions.

This wasn't an oversight—it was a known, documented failure of policy design.

Government Knew, Government Delayed

The most damning aspect isn't that these gaps existed, but that governments knew they existed and chose inaction. In November 2016, Minister Alan Tudge first announced plans for a National Consumer Protection Framework, with further developments throughout 2017—the same year I first sought help. The announcement explicitly recognized the need for a national self-exclusion register. The Northern Territory had already demonstrated this was possible, implementing state-based protections that worked.

Yet it took over six years—until August 2023—for BetStop to finally launch. Six years during which thousands of Australians fell through the cracks of a system that regulators knew was broken.

The Accountability Gap

This raises profound questions about duty of care. If a private company's negligence contributed to someone losing half a million dollars, legal consequences would follow. If regulators have the power to prevent harm through licensing conditions but choose not to use it, shouldn't they face consequences when that choice directly leads to preventable damage?

Consider the contradiction: NSW Liquor & Gaming and the WA Government provided gambling licenses to companies that could legally target people who had already identified as problem gamblers and sought permanent exclusion elsewhere. They had the power to require better protections as a condition of licensing. They chose not to.

This wasn't a technical impossibility—it was a policy choice. The NT had proven cross-jurisdictional protection was achievable. The federal government had identified it as essential. Yet other states continued licensing operators without demanding these basic safeguards.

While BetStop's eventual launch in 2023 finally addressed the cross-jurisdictional gaps that enabled my continued losses, the accountability question remains: why did it take over six years to implement a solution regulators knew was necessary? And why are the remaining Murphy recommendations still gathering dust while more Australians suffer preventable harm?

Beyond Individual Cases

My experience isn't unique—it's systematic. Thousands of Australians have navigated this deliberately fragmented system, losing money, homes, and relationships while waiting for governments to implement protections they knew were necessary.

The gambling industry's "personal responsibility" narrative crumbles when examined against this reality. How can individuals be held fully accountable for harm that regulatory negligence directly enabled? When someone seeks help and the system fails them, where does personal responsibility end and institutional accountability begin?

Recent neuroscience research shows why personal responsibility arguments fall short. Modern gambling platforms are literally 'architected for addiction,' using features like fake wins and game-like elements that hijack the brain's reward systems. When someone tries to exercise personal responsibility, they're fighting technology specifically designed to override rational decision-making.

A Framework for Change

We don't need to reinvent solutions—we already have them. The late Peta Murphy's parliamentary inquiry report "You win some, you lose more" delivered 31 comprehensive recommendations that would prevent stories like mine from happening again. What we need is the political will to implement them fully.

Ban Gambling Advertising: Murphy's inquiry recognized that saturation advertising normalizes gambling and makes recovery harder. When someone has self-excluded but still sees betting ads during every sports broadcast, the system actively works against their recovery.

Eliminate Inducements and Bonuses: The "free bets" and sign-up bonuses that helped lure me back after self-exclusion should be banned entirely. These inducements specifically target vulnerable consumers—often people trying to chase losses.

Establish National Regulation: Murphy's inquiry recommended national regulatory oversight and an online gambling ombudsman, which would eliminate the jurisdictional gaps that allowed me to lose $398,000 after seeking help. This means no "other states" to exploit—every operator answers to the same authority with the same standards.

The Murphy inquiry heard from people like me and delivered evidence-based solutions designed to prevent the exact regulatory failures that enabled my harm. Yet months after the report's release, we're still debating implementation while the human cost accumulates.

Peta Murphy's legacy deserves better than political procrastination. Her 31 recommendations deserve full implementation—not partial adoption or watered-down compromises, but the comprehensive reform she identified as necessary to protect Australian consumers. The question isn't whether these solutions would work—the Murphy inquiry already established that. The question is whether our political leaders have the courage to prioritize public health over gambling industry lobbying.

The Bottom Line

I accept responsibility for my gambling choices. But I refuse to accept that when I tried to get help, the systems designed to protect me were allowed to remain deliberately broken for over six years while regulators knew better.'

Personal responsibility requires functional systems. When those systems fail by design, we have every right to demand accountability from those with the power to fix them. The cost of regulatory negligence isn't just measured in individual tragedies—it's measured in the erosion of public trust in institutions that claim to protect us.

It's time for governments to accept their share of responsibility for the harm their inaction enabled. Only then can we move beyond finger-pointing toward genuine solutions that actually protect vulnerable consumers rather than just protecting gambling industry profits.

John is a participant in the Alliance for Gambling Reforms' Voices program, sharing lived experience to drive policy reform.