Alberta relies on gambling to fund charities.
by Gillian Steward
It's early Saturday afternoon and the casino a mere five minutes drive from my house thrums to the bleeps and bloops of slot machines and the whoops of excited craps players.
There are seven such casinos in Calgary and eight in Edmonton. Just in case some of the oilsands workers have money to burn, there are two in Fort McMurray.
No surprise then that Albertans are the biggest spenders per capita in the country when it comes to gambling. And it's much the same in the other western provinces: anyone who gets a thrill out of playing the slots can usually find a casino close at hand.
In Regina, a stately old railroad station was converted into a casino that has since become the main downtown attraction. Even Moose Jaw has a casino. Winnipeg has two; there are 17 dotted across BC.
I was amazed to learn that Toronto doesn't have even one.
For the most part, casinos aren't tourist destinations and were never intended as such. On the contrary, they were designed to keep gambling money at home rather than see it go south; to suck it out of the locals and funnel it into provincial government treasuries or First Nations communities.
Each province has developed its own laws and regulations for casinos. In Alberta, all the casino buildings and facilities are privately owned. But the thousands of slot machines in the casinos are owned and maintained by the Alberta Gaming and Liquor Commission (AGLC), which collects 70 per cent of all the money poured into them. In 2010-11 that amounted to $1.3 billion.
When he was premier and for years after, Ralph Klein could often be seen at the slots or gaming tables in Edmonton and Calgary.
For many westerners, playing the slots is considered great entertainment, even if the machines are all programmed to return only 92 per cent of the money fed into them.
When he was premier and for years after, Ralph Klein could often be seen at the slots or gaming tables in Edmonton and Calgary. I once spotted Alberta's provincial treasurer feverishly playing a slot machine. And in Regina one Saturday afternoon a few years ago I saw the province's lieutenant governor in the thrall of a one-armed bandit.
Gambling revenues account for only between 5 and 6 percent of total government revenue in each western province. But they have become a real lifeline for hundreds of charitable, sports, education and arts groups. Last year the BC government doled out $78 million of its gambling revenue to such groups.
In Alberta, community groups that want to cash in on gambling revenues must apply to the AGLC for a two-day charitable casino licence. They are then given a date (sometimes a year in advance, the demand is so great) and must supply volunteers to help with casino chores such as cashing out chips or counting money.
The community group is then given a percentage of the casino's take for those two days. This usually amounts to between $40,000 and $50,000 per group, much more than they could raise through raffles, bottle drives and bake sales.
Who goes to the casino? When I was there last Saturday there were lots of seniors at the slots. But the poker room was full of younger men and women. If there's a Flames game at the nearby Saddledome the place fills up with hockey fans.
According to a recent study by researchers at the University of Lethbridge, about 2 to 3 percent of Albertans have a serious gambling addiction, about the same number who are addicted to illegal drugs.
But those people appear to account for roughly half of all money spent on gambling. That's really shocking, and raises all sorts of ethical questions for both governments and charities that depend on gambling revenues.
Last Saturday when I sat down at a flashy slot machine it was hard to believe that it was actually owned by the government; that someone representing the Alberta government had gone to Las Vegas, or wherever it is they make these machines, and bought it. A machine explicitly designed to make me pour money into it without thinking much about what I was doing.
Is government preying on our weaknesses with slot machines and VLTs? Definitely. And yet no one is forced to play one, just as no one is forced to smoke or drink.
And until there is significant public opposition — and so far there doesn't appear to be much — I'm betting that the casinos are here to stay.
About Gillian Steward
Gillian Steward is a Calgary writer and journalist, and former managing editor of the Calgary Herald.
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