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The only thing Americans love more than sports is betting on sports. In just six years, sports betting in the United States has exploded, with wagers skyrocketing [ [link removed] ] from $4.9 billion in 2017 to $121.1 billion in 2023. Notably, 94% of these bets were placed online—on phones, in living rooms, in office cubicles, during lunch breaks and between plays.
Much of this change can be explained by the Supreme Court’s decision in Murphy v. NCAA. Decided in 2018, that case struck down a federal ban on sports betting, allowing states to legalize it (or not) individually. The ruling opened the floodgates, transforming what was once a largely underground activity into a booming, state-sanctioned industry.
As sportsbooks (venues for sports betting) have multiplied, so too has the demand for help with gambling problems. A new study [ [link removed] ] from the University of California San Diego reveals that since Murphy v. NCAA, internet searches for gambling addiction—queries like “am I addicted to gambling”—have climbed 23% nationally. And in some states, the trend is even more obvious: Illinois (35%), Massachusetts (47%), Michigan (37%), New Jersey (34%), New York (37%), Ohio (67%), Pennsylvania (50%) and Virginia (30%) all saw sharp increases in addiction-related searches after launching sportsbooks.
It’s clear that betting, especially online betting, is gutting the U.S. from the inside out, normalizing addiction while siphoning billions from the working class into corporate coffers. The house always wins. Wages disappear. Debt piles up. Families suffer.
Yet, as this crisis grows, many politicians and regulators seem conveniently blind. Why? As is so often the case, follow the money. Gambling money talks, and right now, it’s echoing through the halls of power.
Profits Over People
States are raking in millions from taxes on gambling transactions, yet most spend less than $1 million [ [link removed] ] annually on addiction services. The hypocrisy is rather difficult to ignore. Governments profit off betting while neglecting those it harms. Gambling has become an easy cash grab for states desperate to plug budget holes—at the expense of the very people they’re meant to protect.
Gambling companies spend inordinate sums of money on lobbying lawmakers, ensuring that proposals for stricter regulations are either watered down or dead on arrival. In 2023 alone, the gambling industry spent a staggering $817 million [ [link removed] ] on lobbying, making it the second-highest spender after the food industry.
For years, politicians from both parties have been tied to the same corrupt dynamic. In New York, former Democratic Governor Andrew Cuomo cozied up [ [link removed] ] to Republican lawmakers to push the legalization of commercial casinos, bolstering the state’s gambling industry while ignoring the social costs. Now, as Cuomo eyes a run for New York City mayor, voters should remember that this is a man who prioritized casino profits over community welfare, cut deals with political adversaries when it suited his ambitions and repeatedly put corporate interests above those he was elected to serve.
In Texas, Republican Governor Greg Abbott recently voiced support for the legalization of online sports betting. This move aligns him with powerful sports franchises and gambling conglomerates eager to capitalize on the state’s untapped market. Traditionally, Texas has maintained a staunch anti-gambling stance, with deep-rooted conservative values opposing the industry’s expansion. Yet Abbott, facing mounting pressure from wealthy lobbyists and major sports leagues like the NFL and NBA, has softened his position [ [link removed] ], citing potential tax revenue and economic growth.
Penetrating Podcasts
Gambling companies aren’t just cozying up to politicians—they’re targeting podcasters too. By teaming up with popular shows, they reach millions of loyal listeners in the U.S. and beyond. These ads aren’t obvious; they slip into casual conversations, making gambling seem like just another part of daily life (which, sadly, it now is).
One of the most prominent players in the sports betting industry is DraftKings. In recent years, the company has flooded podcasts with ads. In March 2023 alone, it sponsored the VSiN “Best Bets” podcast a staggering 74 times [ [link removed] ] in just 30 days. In the podcasting space, ads are often read by trusted hosts, making the promotion feel less like a sales pitch and more like a friendly recommendation. Podcasts thrive on the “parasocial relationship” phenomenon—a psychological concept in which listeners develop a one-sided bond with hosts, perceiving them as friends.
Perhaps nowhere is this strategy more evident than with “The Joe Rogan Experience.” As the world’s most popular podcast, Rogan’s show reaches an estimated 11 million [ [link removed] ] listeners per episode. His audience is diverse and deeply engaged. For companies like DraftKings, aligning with Rogan [ [link removed] ] allows them to leverage his credibility to build trust with millions of potential bettors. When Rogan, known for his no-nonsense, conversational style, endorses a sponsor, it carries a weight that traditional advertising simply can’t replicate.
These partnerships are more than clever marketing ploys; they’re a form of cultural infiltration. Gambling companies are burrowing into new media, using podcasts to dodge traditional rules: regulations on television and radio advertising and limitations on targeting vulnerable demographics, such as young people or problem gamblers.
Listeners are bombarded with promos, absorbed into hours-long episodes, normalizing bad behavior and big betting. It’s nothing new—just as fast-food ads have normalized junk eating, now nonstop gambling pitches are making risk a regular habit, one podcast ad at a time.
This convergence of media and gambling raises pressing ethical questions. Is it responsible for influential figures such as Rogan—whose audience ranges from impressionable young adults to middle-aged listeners—to promote addictive services? The answer is a resounding no. Rogan doesn’t need the money. He’s intelligent enough to understand the destructive effects of gambling. Yet he still lends his platform to an industry built on exploiting human weakness. Stricter regulations are necessary to curb how and where gambling companies advertise, especially in formats as intimate and pervasive as podcasts. When people invite a voice into their daily routines, they shouldn’t be subjected to relentless promotions pushing them toward financial ruin.
Psychological ruin is a serious risk as well. Gambling addiction is the calculated outcome of systems engineered to exploit human psychology. Betting apps are designed with the same dopamine-driven mechanics as social media and video games, trapping users in cycles of instant gratification and ever-increasing wagers. Deposit bonuses, so-called risk-free bets and relentless notifications are bait masquerading as perks. Sports broadcasts, once about the game, are now saturated with subtle gambling endorsements, embedding the notion that placing a bet is just another part of being a fan.
Young men, in particular, are the prime targets. Data shows that men under 35 [ [link removed] ] are most susceptible to developing gambling problems; it’s no coincidence that they’re bombarded with ads promising quick riches and effortless wins. Not coincidentally, Rogan’s audience skews overwhelmingly male (80%), with a majority (51%) age 18-34 [ [link removed] ].
These are predatory campaigns designed to hook, and they’re incredibly effective. When the addiction takes hold, the fallout is catastrophic: job losses, bankruptcies, shattered families and spiraling mental health crises. Problem gamblers face suicide rates far higher than the general population—a sobering reminder that the stakes extend well beyond lost money.
Making matters worse, public awareness is nearly nonexistent. When was the last time you saw an ad warning about gambling addiction? If you’re drawing a blank, I’m pretty sure you’re not alone.
President Trump: Time To Step Up
The University of California San Diego study calls for immediate action. Sportsbook tax revenues should fund accessible, evidence-based gambling addiction services. Advertising must be regulated, with restrictions similar to those placed on tobacco and alcohol, limiting where betting can be promoted and who can be targeted. Healthcare professionals need better training to diagnose and treat gambling addiction effectively. Online sportsbooks require stronger safeguards, including betting limits and age requirements, enforced breaks and restrictions on credit card use. Public awareness campaigns must highlight the risks and warning signs of gambling, reducing stigma and promoting early intervention.
Leadership at the national level is critical. President Trump’s position on this issue carries unique weight. His political identity has long centered on championing the “forgotten” American, the everyday worker marginalized by systemic neglect. Furthermore, Trump’s personal connection [ [link removed] ] to addiction through his late brother, Fred Trump Jr., offers him an intimate understanding of how addiction can devastate individuals and families. While Fred’s struggle was with alcohol, the underlying mechanisms of addiction—compulsion, loss of control and eventual destruction—are universal.
Of course, Trump’s history with the gambling industry as a former casino owner presents a dual-edged narrative. On the one hand, he’s familiar with the sector’s operations; on the other, he has an opportunity to advocate for responsible oversight. If he chooses to address the modern gambling epidemic, Trump has the platform and public influence to spark meaningful change. Advocating for national reform would not only align with his stated commitment to American families but also demonstrate a willingness to confront industries that profit from societal harm. Surely, to make America great again, gambling addiction must be addressed immediately.
The stakes, measured in barren bank accounts, broken minds and broken homes, are simply too high to ignore.

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