When experience is treated as a problem!

Something is fundamentally misaligned in how the UK’s statutory levy for gambling harm is now being framed and distributed. What was introduced as a corrective to the shortcomings of the old RET framework is quietly drifting into something far more disruptive. Instead of improving outcomes for affected players, it risks dismantling parts of the support infrastructure that actually existed, simply because that infrastructure was built under the previous funding model.

RET funding was never clean in a moral or structural sense. It came with industry proximity and uncomfortable optics and those criticisms were often justified. But it also allowed organisations to exist in the real world rather than only on policy paper. Services were staffed, helplines operated, blocking tools were maintained and outreach programmes slowly earned trust among people who do not trust institutions easily. Those realities do not disappear just because the funding label changes.

What is troubling now is how history itself is being treated as a disqualifying factor. Organisations that worked for years within the only system available are being penalised precisely for having done that work. Experience, rather than being assessed and managed, is being treated as contamination.

The people behind the work, not the branding

Over the years, I have had disagreements and clashes with people operating in the gambling harm space. Some of those exchanges were public, some were heated and some genuinely went nowhere. None of that changes the underlying fact that many of these individuals and organisations showed up long before a statutory levy offered political cover.

A recent conversation with Jordan Lea from Deal Me Out brought that into sharp focus. We spoke about what happens when funding decisions are made at arm’s length from lived reality. Not in abstract harm metrics or future modelling, but in terms of what disappears when money stops flowing to people who already have systems in place.

Those systems matter because they are fragile. They are built incrementally, often on shoestring budgets and they rely on continuity more than grand reform. When funding ends abruptly, those services do not migrate neatly to new providers. They vanish and users are rarely informed in advance. For people already living with addiction, that kind of institutional silence is not neutral. It is destabilising.

The same honesty applies to Duncan Garvie and the work done through BetBlocker. We have not always agreed and the relationship has not been warm. That does not invalidate the fact that blocking tools are often the last line of defence for people trying not to self-sabotage. They are not a policy flourish. They are used at moments of weakness, relapse risk and panic.

A funding regime that sidelines those tools because of historical association risks mistaking moral distance for effectiveness. Clean governance on paper does not help the person staring at a betting site at three in the morning.

A ruleset that excludes knowledge!

One of the most concerning aspects of the levy discussion is not just who receives funding, but who is allowed to decide. As Jordan Lea pointed out, many of the people involved in levy distribution are not from the gambling sector at all. That is not accidental. It is part of the design.

Under the current approach, individuals involved in organisations eligible for levy funding are expected to have no background in the gambling sector. The intention is obvious. Avoid conflicts. Maintain distance. Preserve independence. In theory, that sounds reasonable. In practice, it creates a knowledge vacuum.

Gambling harm is not an abstract public health category that can be transferred wholesale from other sectors. It has behavioural patterns, technological triggers and economic feedback loops that are specific to gambling products and environments. Excluding people who have worked within those environments removes expertise at precisely the point where nuanced judgement is required.

Replacing that experience with well-intentioned public servants or generalist administrators does not produce neutrality. It produces misalignment. Decisions get made based on frameworks rather than field knowledge and funding criteria begin to prioritise optics and procedural cleanliness over operational impact.

The immediate consequences no one is modelling

The most dangerous effects of this approach will not show up in parliamentary briefings or annual reports. They will surface quietly and unevenly. Services will reduce hours. Staff with specialist knowledge will leave. Programmes that took years to normalise will end without replacement. For the users, there will simply be less support available, often without explanation.

We already saw a warning sign last year when GamCare had to halt a youth project due to funding pressures. That was under transitional conditions, before the levy had even fully taken shape. If established organisations are now systematically excluded, that kind of contraction will accelerate rather than stabilise.

The idea that new, levy-funded entities will smoothly fill those gaps assumes that service delivery is interchangeable. It is not. Trust is not transferable and neither is behavioural insight. Vulnerable users do not simply re-register with a different provider because a funding model changes. Many do nothing at all. That is how people become stranded. Not through a single policy decision, but through cumulative withdrawal of accessible help.

Responsibility without scapegoating

It is important to be precise here. This is not an argument that the UK government is acting maliciously or intentionally harming people. The stated aims of the levy remain defensible and the desire to distance harm prevention from industry funding is understandable. What is at risk is an implementation that prioritises structural purity over functional continuity.

Good intentions do not remove the obligation to interrogate outcomes. If levy governance excludes sector knowledge, defunds experienced organisations and replaces them with entities that have never dealt directly with addiction dynamics, the system will not self-correct. It will quietly fail the people it is meant to serve.

Responsibility, in this context, means recognising that reform does not start from zero. It starts from what already exists. A levy that learns from the past rather than punishing it still has time to stabilise the ecosystem instead of fragmenting it. That choice remains open, but not indefinitely.

FAQs

What is the UK statutory levy for gambling harm?
The UK statutory levy is a government-imposed fund designed to support organizations addressing gambling-related harm.

How does the new levy differ from the old RET framework?
Unlike the RET framework, the new levy aims to distance funding from industry ties, prioritizing structural independence over historical experience.

Why are some organizations losing funding under the new system?
Organizations with a history under RET may be excluded due to perceived industry proximity, regardless of their operational effectiveness.

What are the consequences of cutting funding to experienced services?
Key services may close, staff may leave and users may lose trusted support, increasing the risk of harm for vulnerable individuals.

Why is sector knowledge important in levy distribution?
Gambling harm has specific behavioral, technological and economic factors. Excluding experienced sector professionals can lead to misaligned decisions.

Are new levy-funded organizations able to replace existing services?
No, trust, expertise and continuity cannot be easily transferred. New providers often lack the nuanced understanding of addiction dynamics.

What role do tools like BetBlocker play in gambling harm prevention?
Blocking tools like BetBlocker are critical interventions that help users manage impulses, particularly during high-risk moments.

Is the government intentionally harming gambling users?
No, the levy’s intention is to remove conflicts of interest and improve harm prevention, but implementation risks unintended negative effects.

How can the levy system be improved?
By incorporating sector experience, maintaining continuity for existing services and balancing structural independence with operational impact.

What happens if the levy continues to ignore past experience?
Services may shrink or disappear, vulnerable users may be left without help and the overall effectiveness of harm prevention could decline.