A MAGICIAN with a fan of lottery tickets and a trick up his sleeve — that' show it all started. But the act of prestidigitator Jim Sommer was only the symbolic kick off of the Lottery Control Board's newest game, the Instant Lottery. As a uniformed guard stood conspicuously nearby, Sommer deftly displayed his hocus-pocus before a crowded press conference last October 9. As all eyes remained riveted on the tickets in Sommer's hand, slowly, mysteriously, a $10,000 bill —one of only 380 in existence — peeped into view, almost . . . well, as if by magic.
A brisk business
Such Madison Avenue theatrics hardly surprised the reporters who attended that October gathering. The Illinois State Lottery thrives on promotion, and the magician's act was merely part of the hoopla. But what was surprising, even to the Lottery Board, was the phenomenal success of the Instant game.
On October 21, 1975, the first day of sales, frantic players mobbed a Chicago sidewalk booth outside Montgomery Ward at State and Adams and quickly gobbled up 9,000 Instant tickets. A gas station near the Wisconsin border tripled its usual sales and sold 3,000 Instant tickets in five hours. Bars and other retail establishments reported a similarly brisk business; and by night-fall, two lucky players were $10,000 richer. From then on, the Instant Lottery was a sure winner. Many sales agents sold more Instant tickets in one day than they previously had sold in seven with the other games. After the first week, 5 million of the 60 million tickets had been sold (another 20 million would eventually be given away in prizes). And by the time it was all over, the Illinois Instant Lottery was firmly established as one of the most successful games of any state lottery in the country.
But the Instant Lottery spawned more than instant success. It also generated considerable controversy, sparked by stories of players who became more than a little carried away by the game. For example, there was the man who purportedly spent $80 on Instant tickets during his lunch hour and couldn't afford a noontime meal. And the woman at the supermarket in Aurora who paid for her groceries in food stamps and then shelled out $50 in cash for Instant tickets. Or the wife who went to dinner with her husband at a suburban restaurant and made the mistake of telling him she had spent all her money on Instant tickets. (He slugged her, and restaurant employees had to summon the police.)
Like a prairie brush fire, these stories and others like them spread quickly across the state, reviving a debate which started when the Illinois General Assembly first considered adopting a lottery in the state. Even as the sale of Instant tickets soared, many businessmen, church leaders, psychologists, and legislators rapped the new game, calling it a tax on the poor, a rip-off, or simply a pain in the neck. All of which left usually placid Ralph Batch, superintendent of the State Lottery, more than a little perplexed.
$120 million to state
Since it began on July 30, 1974, the Illinois State Lottery has been a thriving venture. In less than 20 months, it had funneled more than $120 million into state coffers, making it the most successful lottery in the country. Revenue for the first six months of the past fiscal year was 70 per cent higher than for the first six months of fiscal 1975.
Yet beyond providing the state with an additional source of income, the
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Some people simply find it unconscionable that the state should generate revenue from any form of gambling
Lottery also has become a popular form of entertainment for the public. Recent surveys show that 85 per cent of Illinois residents have played the Lottery, and 94 per cent feel it is "good for state government."
The Instant game was just another in a series of promotions designed to spark interest in the Lottery. Similar games had been tried in other states and had been well received by the public. And, unlike some of its predecessors, the Instant game was relatively easy to play. Each $ 1 ticket contained four red circles and one red square. After scratching at the circles with a coin or a fingernail, the card revealed four numbers. If they added up to 7,11, or 21, the player won two free tickets, $5, or $10,000, respectively. Under the square was a letter of the alphabet. The idea was to save the letters and spell SEVEN to win $100,ELEVEN to win $1,000, and TWENTY-ONE to win $10,000. Winners of either two free tickets or $5 automatically became eligible for three millionaire drawings.
Scanned by neutrons
Eager to prevent anyone from peeking at or altering the Instant tickets, lottery officials set out to make the game as tamper proof as possible. The tickets were designed by the Scientific Games Corporation, where computers set the type, made the plates
and then printed the tickets. By the time they came off the presses, they were as unique as fingerprints and actually harder to counterfeit than currency. And just to make sure that no one tried, all winning tickets were scanned by neutrons in a nuclear reactor at Georgia Tech to determine their authenticity.
Because it was an instant game, a game in which no one had to wait to determine if they won, the Instant Lottery was unlike anything tried in Illinois before. For some.. it was like nothing that should ever be tried here again. "People were spending money on something pie-in-the-sky," said Robert Fisher. executive vice president of the Aurora Chamber of Commerce, "and quite possibly not spending money on necessities." In a much publicized statement to the press. Aurora businessmen called for a ban on the Instant Lottery shortly after the game began. Although the Aurora Chamber emphasized it had no complaints about the regular lottery, it did denounce the Instant game for the effect it was having on the poor. "'The people spending money on it were the ones who could least afford it," said Fisher.
Licensed stealing?
Like the Aurora group, the Rock island City Council and the Rockford Chamber of Commerce also called for the abolition of the Instant game. So, too, did the Rockford Morning Star in an editorial on November 20. 1975."The Illinois Lottery Commission
Has created a monster in the Instant Lottery, "declared the paper, "and it should end the deadly game without delay," "It's one thing to license a lottery." Said the DeKalb Daily Chronicle on November 19. "It's another thing to license stealing."
Prompted by complaints from some of their constituents, several Illinois legislators added their voices to the up roar. "It was a real disease-type thing," said Dwight Friedrich (R.,Centralia), one of the most vocal opponents of the Instant Lottery. Friedrich sponsored an unsuccessful bill in the legislature which sought to ban any lottery promotion in which winners could be determined within 24 hours of purchasing a ticket — in effect, the Instant game. "Guys would go on their way home and spend their whole checks on Instant Lottery," said Fried rich. "There's no way in the world they could win if they kept doing it, because the odds were fixed." Like Fisher, Fried rich feels the Instant game exploits the poor. "I think it's taking away money from people who can least afford it,"
Yet at least one state representative emphatically disagrees. "That's a bunch of hogwash," says Zeke Giorgi (D.,Rockford), the "Father" of the Illinois Lottery. "They've tried to perpetuate that fraud and the hoax from the beginning. Records do not Substantiate that the poor people are buying the tickets." Giorgi believes most of the criticism of the Instant Lottery comes from "Bible-belter do-gooders," people he claims almost prevented the state from first establishing a lottery. "They resent people having fun," he says. Unfazed by attempts to ban the game he is confident the General Assembly will vole to keep the Instant Lottery. "In she final shove and push," says Giorgi "they'll realize they're talking about eliminating $20 or $25 million to the state."
At the center of the storm generated by the Instant Lottery stands Ralph Batch. 63. former FBI man, organizer of she New Jersey state lottery, and founder and first president of the National Association of Lotteries. Batch has impressed even the Lottery's detractors by his skillful management and careful attention to the bottom line. By law. he must return at least 40 percent of the lottery funds to the state. Batch now turns over 44.8 per cent and has managed to keep operating expenses at just 4.2 per cent. the lowest of any lottery in the country.
Yet Ralph Batch is more than just the chief administrator for the Lottery, He is also its most ardent supporter, one who often takes a philosophical view of his critics. "You will always have those of the Aristotle school," says Batch, "who know what is right for everyone and who will preach as to what they should do."
'Fishbowl' atmosphere
When he was called in to form the Illinois Lottery two years ago. Batch pledged to operate in a "fish bowl "atmosphere, keeping the Lottery open to public scrutiny at all times. Now, because of the furor over the Instant game, that fishbowl has turned into a
full-fledged aquarium. "Those who can least afford it ..." says Batch, slowly weighing a phrase his critics repeat often. "You get kind of bewildered by a group of people who rely upon cliches that have been used to detract from popular philosophies such as the Lottery. They use the exact same language as if they were reciting the Nirvana. They obviously know nothing about what's going on in the Lottery."
For unlike his critics, Ralph Baton does not believe people were fore going necessities to play the Instant Lottery "It just isn't so," he says. To prove "is point, he cites a recent poll conducted by
4 / October 1976 / Illinois Issues
the Consumer Communication Corporation showing the average lottery buyer in all games) to be 4.6 years old. With years of high school education, and an annual income of $12,000. The same poll shows that less than 5 per cent of the players earn less than $5,000.Batch cites another survey which indicates that 30 per cent of the lower income individuals who play the regular Lottery did not play the Instant game. The bulk of the Instant players, he contends, earned $10,000 - $25,000 a year — people the Lottery superintendent calls "Mr. and Mrs. America,"
'Sin' taxes
As Batch observes, the profits from all games go into the General Fund, where they're allocated primarily for education, public health, social services, and public aid. "And who gets that money?" asks Batch rhetorically. "Those who can most afford it?" "In effect, a fairer evaluation of the Lottery program would probably establish that more money is going to those who can least afford it, than is coming from them. We will be the first ones to recommend that those who can not afford it should not play. It's for recreation. We do not encourage or solicit people to spend money for necessities to buy Lottery tickets."
Even though the poor might, not spend as much money on Instant tickets as other groups, critics still argue that what they do spend is a greater proportion of their total income. This alone is seen as justification for banning the game. Others simply find it unconscionable that the state should generate revenue from any form of gambling —Instant Lottery or otherwise.
Seldom, however, is there mention of other questionable sources of state revenue - levies which Batch calls the "sin" taxes. The state reaps millions of dollars annually from the sale of liquor and cigarettes, as well as from bets a trace tracks. Like the Lottery, these forms of "entertainment" have great potential for abuse, and if indulged in excessively, can place an unnecessary financial burden on the poor or anyone else. Yet they also help fund much needed social programs, and it's unlikely that they will soon vanish from the Illinois scene.
The question of who played the Instant Lottery was not the only aspect of the game which stirred a fuss. Other critics charged that Instant players were duped — taken for a ride by the state, unaware of their odds for winning. "It's a rip-off," said Rep. John Merlo (D.,Chicago). "It sparks too much of gambling. People just don't know what they're purchasing when they take an Instant Lottery ticket." As an example, Merlo cites the letters which were needed to win the bigger prizes. Only 400 of the 80 million tickets contained the letter "W" which was necessary to spell TWENTY-ONE and win $10,000.Most Instant players were able to collect eight of those nine letters, yet only a few ever obtained that crucial "W" needed to win.
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"Perhaps I'd concede that the odds are bad if we're running a casino," says Batch. "But we're not. We're running a Lottery program in which a percentage goes back to the winners and just about an equal percentage goes to those who can least afford it. We have never put a Lottery program on the street without fully disclosing in utmost detail the odds on winning. If any hedging was done, it was against the house and in favor of the public." A check of newspaper and press releases heralding the Instant game reveals the odds were provided to the public, and more recent promotions now contain a detailed statement of odds on each ticket. |
$16 million to businesses
By the time the last Instant ticket was sold, over 13 million prizes had been awarded in the game. For most players, though, the "prize" was little more than two -free tickets. Yet perhaps the real winners of the Instant Lottery were not the players, but the
10,000 Illinois retailers who handle the Lottery tickets. With a 5 per cent commission on all sales, some chains have earned as much as $500,000, much of it generated by the Instant game. In all, $16 million has been pumped into the business community
since the Lottery began. So it came as somewhat of a surprise to the Lottery Board when even the businessmen began to complain about the enormously successful Instant game.
When the Lottery began, one of the first companies to climb on the bandwagon was the giant Walgreen's chain. Its high-volume stores, particularly in the Chicago Loop, manage to sell Lottery tickets the way McDonald's sells Big Macs. Yet unlike previous Lottery promotions, the Instant game posed problems which even the Walgreen's chain was hard pressed to handle. "Instant Lottery was a mad house," explained Jerry Parrott, director of publicity for Walgreen's. "With the ordinary Lottery, people came in, got their tickets, and left. With the Instant game, people stood around, scratching the tickets, clogging up the store. We had whole cash register lines that were totally interrupted and not useable." Referring to the usual crush of shoppers in the Loop stores, he added, "We don't really need traffic building promotions in these stores."
Because of the congestion it caused, the sale of Instant tickets was baited at two of Walgreen's downtown stores
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A truck driver from downstate Strasburg spent$623 on Instant tickets and came up a million dollar winner
shortly after the game began. Although they continued to handle the regular Lottery tickets, the rest of the chain eventually followed the Loop lead and discontinued selling Instant tickets altogether. "It was a real pain in the butt," said Parrott. The Aurora Chamber of Commerce reported similar problems. "It was causing quite a run on some of our business members," Said Fisher. "They simply weren't having a chance to sell their own products."
Was the Instant game actually disrupting business? Ralph Batch thinks the problem was exaggerated. "Sure it generated some traffic. Businessmen would not be normal unless they loved to have the traffic and loved to complain about all the problems the traffic generates." From some businesses, however, there were no complaints. "With our particular store it was a major success," said Pat Fitzgerald, Lottery agent at busy Sears Tower. "We sold about 194, 000 tickets and had a lot off undoing it. I wish they'd start it again next week."
Instant hope
Even its most vocal critics admit the Instant Lottery was extremely popular. But why? What made this particular game such a runaway hit with the public? "Symbolically, it means hope, "said Dr. Daniel Freedman, chairman of the University of Chicago psychiatry department. Dr. Freedman sees the Instant Lottery as appealing to a basic part of human nature. "It taps that part of our wishes that are always enduring. The first thing a child wants is his milk when he wants it."
A somewhat different view is held by Northwestern University psychologist Dr. Winfred Hill. "The kind of set-up where you do get immediate feed back, "said Dr. Hill, "is conducive to people spending more and more: the slot machine effect. Every time you lose, you try to recoup your losses. Every time you win, you try to win again." Dr. Hill believes that, like other forms of gambling, the Instant game can be "addictive," and the odds for winning are always slim. "For any individual, in the long run, it is likely to be a losing proposition."
Getting lucky
For the vast majority of players, the game was just that. Yet for William E.Walker of downstate Strasburg, the Instant Lottery was anything but a losing proposition. Walker, a $340-a-week truck driver, spent a total of $623on Instant tickets. His wife and friends doubted he would ever win a thing, but Walker wasn't discouraged. "Everybody has the idea they're going to win, "he said, "or else they wouldn't be playing."
Eventually, one of his tickets qualified him for an elimination drawing. Soon December 18, 1975, the 33-year-old Walker came to Chicago feeling confident and lucky. That night he won a million dollars, "I just knew I was going to win," said the jovial Walker, who just bought a brand new Continental Mark IV. "And 1 think I'll win again in three years."
If the State Lottery Board has its way, Walker could very well win his next million in yet another Instant game. When the Lottery was first established, the legislature gave the Board wide latitude to improvise any game acceptable to the public. The Instant Lottery obviously caught on and generated nearly $25 million into the General Fund. And since Batch runs the Lottery like a business, he is not about to argue with success. "We would be very remiss in our responsibilities," says Batch, "if we did not recommend an additional Instant game. After all, the people like it."
Next time around
Whether a new Instant game would bring on a new round of criticism is only conjecture. There are still many community leaders who view even the regular Lottery as a questionable method of generating revenue for the state. Yet it's doubtful the Lottery could continue if the public were to strenuously object to it. And so far, both winners and losers alike have had few bad words to say about either the regular Lottery or the popular Instant game.
Of course, when a new Instant Lottery reappears on the Illinois scene, few players will be as lucky as William Walker. Yet the odds against winning probably won't prevent another slam, peed on Instant tickets. After all, even Walker's friends, most of whom were former skeptics of the Lottery, are now buying tickets regularly. "They'd come up to me and say, 'You lucky cotton-picker, if you can win, maybe I can too.'" ˛
6 / October 1976 / Illinois Issues