Seniors, Slots, and Surveillance
In the post below, Joy Ciofi reflects on her article, “The Ambivalent Subject: Reconciling Contradictory Subjective Experiences of Surveillance,” which appeared in a recent issue of Surveillance & Society.
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In light of the current COVID-19 pandemic, dialogue around the well-being of senior citizens has intensified. Older adults are often relegated to age-specific environments where disease can spread rapidly. Under current circumstances, seniors are unable to receive visitors, socialize with neighbors, or participate in activities. Although the immediate concern is containment of the virus, and justifiably so, prolonged isolation will have profound consequences for the mental health and quality-of-life of older adults.
Prior to the outbreak, I completed a project which took a closer look at a popular pastime for seniors in the U.S. — casino gambling. Today, groups of seniors milling about a busy facility seems unimaginably risky, but only months ago, this was a rapidly-expanding entertainment option for millions of retirees looking to get out of the house for some excitement. Casino expansion was fueled by the recognition of tribal rights which permitted Native Americans to operate casinos on reservation lands. Two such casinos, located in New England, were the field sites for my project, and I sought to understand why seniors were drawn to the facilities and how they perceived the vast surveillance networks housed inside them.
In the right setting, with the right benefits, the oppressive nature of all-encompassing surveillance can be turned on its head, viewed as an asset rather than an unwanted necessity.
As we age, we are subjected to ever-increasing levels of surveillance. Navigating a society fixated on risk reduction, older adults are encouraged to self-surveil and be surveilled by others to reduce injury and increase longevity. Yet seniors dislike the age-specific settings in which such surveillance is often provided; senior centers, long-term care, and hospitals all utilize surveillance measures aimed at promoting health. Large casinos, on the other hand, are a surprising combination of age-diverse entertainment venues and highly-effective surveillance networks. The seniors I interviewed did not express reservations around the ubiquitous cameras, personnel presence, or data collection used by casinos to surveil them. Instead, this demographic appreciated the security they received in exchange for their privacy. The large facilities were well-suited for long walks, as any fall would be caught on camera and responded to quickly. The same goes for medical emergencies; one of my participants had a heart attack while at a slot machine, and the rapid response time from staff likely saved his life. “If we were at home, who knows how it would’ve turned out,” his wife told me. Even the collection of player data through the popular ‘club cards’ was viewed positively, as it allowed for the earning of ‘points’ which could be used to purchase necessities in the facilities’ many shops. The demographic case of recreational senior gamblers thus presents us with an interesting contradiction: in the right setting, with the right benefits, the oppressive nature of all-encompassing surveillance can be turned on its head, viewed as an asset rather than an unwanted necessity.
It is likely that it will be some time now before seniors can return to the tables at America’s casinos. However, moving forward, this research offers insight on how to potentially balance the need for surveilling the elderly with their own interests, desires, and well-being in mind.
