Self-exclusion, or self-banning programs, in theory, were designed as a supportive tool to assist individuals who have made a personal commitment to solve their gambling problem. The overall key to the success of self-banning is that the individual voluntarily chooses to be held responsible for staying out of the casino once the ban is in effect. By the very name, it is clear that these programs are meant to be a self-imposed restriction – not a third-party restriction to ban a person against their will.
With a variety of self-banning programs now in place in several states, the question of the day has become, "Do these programs work?" Answers to the question tend to be as varied as the individuals or groups who raise the question in the first place. In order to fully evaluate the effectiveness of such programs, they must be viewed from many perspectives, including scientific theory and research, public policy, clinical approaches and even legal liability, just to name a few. This is a healthy and timely debate that should continue with a goal toward identifying what works and what doesn't. In the process, however, let's not overlook the perspective of the end-user of these programs – problem gamblers who want to change their lives for the better.
An Illinois woman once shared with me her experience with a casino self-banning program. Mary* spoke from the very real perspective of one who is committed to solving her gambling problem, but who has also struggled to achieve her goal. Here's what Mary had to say in her own words:
"In Illinois, you can have yourself voluntarily evicted from the casinos. You go there, fill out a form, write a statement about why you are doing this, and have your picture taken. Then, if you are caught on casino property, you will be arrested for criminal trespass.
"After my relapse, I went to all the local riverboats to do this. There is much controversy about whether or not they will really arrest you or even throw you out and I have heard many different stories. But for me, the point is that I know I have done this and I see it as a major roadblock for me to gambling. I am not a person who would flirt with lawbreaking. As a matter of fact, when I stopped gambling the first time was when I realized that I was in dangerous legal territory and if I didn't stop, I was going to end up in legal trouble.
"I have felt much better since I made the decision to be banned. I went with a GA friend to four different casinos and at no time did we have to enter gaming areas to process the voluntary eviction. At three of the four, it was done in the security office and at the fourth it was done in the pavilion. I thought it would be a humiliating experience when it actually was a freeing and uplifting experience. I walked out of there feeling proud and empowered to help myself!
"I don't know why I was not willing to do this before; it would have saved me a lot of pain. But all I can say is that I'm glad I did it now. It has definitely become part of my 'thinking it through' process. When I start to think about gambling, I never get beyond the thought that I am not allowed on the riverboats legally. This is enough to keep me from going any further with that thought.
"Though I know that ultimately I have to work the steps of recovery and find the kind of peace and serenity that allows me to be free of the obsession to gamble, in the interim this is a great roadblock for me and a good feeling of commitment to stop gambling, one day at a time."
Mary's description of her experience with self-banning reflects the original purpose behind the development of these programs. In the final analysis, it is the effect on the individual that must be carefully examined before anyone can adequately answer the question, "Does self-banning work?"
* Not her real name.