Truckers playing skill games at Hermie Sadler's truck stop in Emporia. Photo by Markus Schmidt.
Truckers playing skill games at Hermie Sadler's truck stop in Emporia. Photo by Markus Schmidt.
Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Ralph Waldo Emerson. Photo by Josiah Johnson Hawes. Public domain.

Ralph Waldo Emerson once observed: “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.” At least that’s how much of the quote we tend to remember goes. The full quote reads like this: “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines.”

The General Assembly can rest assured that it will not get categorized as some of those “little statesmen” because no matter what it does, consistency does not seem to be a priority for legislators as they debate what to do about the so-called electronic “skill games” that are also called by critics “gray machines” or, at worst, “neighborhood slot machines.”

Those machines, which you may have seen in convenience stores, once were legal and taxed, then legal but not taxed, and now aren’t either. There’s a push in this year’s General Assembly to legalize them and tax them again, and a countervailing push to prevent that.

On the one side: Those who say that these games are vital for small-business owners. On the other side: Those who say that these games are basically slot machines that would exist outside the normal oversight for gambling, attract crime, and potentially cut into the revenues of Virginia’s casinos, which are regulated.

For now, those on the pro-skill games side seem to have the upper hand. The Senate version of the bill to legalize them passed the Senate Commerce and Labor Committee last week on a 10-5 vote and, in a procedural victory for supporters, bypassed the committee that normally deals with gambling legislation and instead was sent straight to the Senate Finance Committee — which is chaired by the bill’s co-patron, state Sen. Louise Lucas, D-Portsmouth. 

Sen. Aaron Rouse, D-Virginia, speaks on behalf of skill games. Supporters, who included many convenience store operators, wore yellow shirts to indicate their support.
Sen. Aaron Rouse, D-Virginia, speaks on behalf of skill games. Supporters, who included many convenience store operators, wore yellow shirts to indicate their support. Screenshot.

This is one of those issues that don’t naturally split along party lines, or regional lines or rural-urban lines or any of the other ways that legislation typically divides along. The bill’s Senate sponsor is a Democrat — Aaron Rouse of Virginia — with fellow Democrat Lucas and Republican Timmy French of Shenandoah County as co-sponsors. The House version is sponsored by Democrat Cliff Hayes of Chesapeake, and cosponsored by Republican Terry Kilgore of Scott County and Democrat Karrie Delaney of Fairfax County. This is not the usual configuration of legislators you’ll find together on the same issue. 

Instead, the “skill games” issue breaks other ways — whether you see these games as gambling or something else or possibly how you feel about gambling in general or casinos in particular.

This is where consistency, or the lack thereof, comes in.

When Rouse’s bill first came up in committee, Sen. Mamie Locke, D-Hampton, asked him why it would restrict the games to those 21 and older when you need only be 18 to play the lottery.

Rouse’s answer: He made it 21 and older to make the bill easier to pass. 

That’s a good practical answer but it raises a consistency question: If these games aren’t “neighborhood slot machines” as critics say, why adopt the rules that govern slot machines? But there’s really a larger question about consistency here. Why do we have so many different age thresholds for different things? The lottery is gambling, too, so why is the age for buying a scratch-off ticket 18 but the age for playing a slot machine in a casino 21? 

Why is the age for getting a driver’s license — a license to operate a machine that, if used improperly, can kill me — just 16? Which poses more of a threat to society: a 16-year-old behind the wheel of a vehicle or a 16-year-old who is clicking some bright lights on a game?

In Virginia, you can get a hunting license at age 12 — which involves a very different sort of machine which, if used improperly, can also kill someone. Children younger than 12 can still hunt, but only if accompanied and supervised by a licensed adult. We, as a state, trust someone at 12 to carry a loaded weapon but don’t trust them until 21 to play what “skill game” supporters present as a glorified video game.

You can vote, get married or join the military at age 18 but can’t buy alcohol or cigarettes until 21. 

Why don’t we have the same legal age for everything?

If “skill games” are just fancy games and not hardcore gambling, why isn’t the minimum age the same as for playing the lottery? Or why is there a minimum age at all? If the age is 21 because we presume that 21-year-olds have better judgment than someone younger and that level of maturity is required for something as dangerous as a “skill game,” then why do we allow people who are younger to drive on our highways or carry loaded guns into the woods — both of which potentially endanger themselves and others around them?

No, I’m not proposing any of that. Yes, I understand the differing rationales for some of these ages. I’m just posing a philosophical question to prod some thinking. How should we think of these games? 

Scott Johnson of the Bristol Casino pointed out that every casino in Virginia had to be approved in a local referendum but these games don’t have to be. He is part of the opposition that considers these games to be “neighborhood slot machines,” so in effect he’s asking why his slot machines had to go before a referendum but not these. That gets to the question of whether these really are slot machines — I’m not here to debate that — but also the question of what has to be approved in a local referendum and what doesn’t.

Should the General Assembly require localities to approve “skill games” in a local referendum? After all, before a restaurant can serve mixed drinks, that locality — or at least that magisterial district — has to approve liquor by the drink in a referendum. Are those equivalent or not? Likewise, the rival bills to allow retail sales of cannabis both agree on one point: Localities would have the right to hold a referendum on whether to block local pot stores. That draws an understandable equivalency between liquor and weed. Is there, should there be, an equivalency with “skill games”? Again, it goes to how harmful or harmless you think these games are — or, perhaps, what you think the role of government should be. For that matter, why must there be referendums for liquor and potentially cannabis but not tobacco? We once had a statewide referendum on the lottery, but we don’t have it locality-by-locality. On the other hand, we do have locality-specific referendums on gaming facilities such as Rosie’s Emporium. Some vices we get to vote on, some we don’t.

Other questions were raised about how accessible these games should be: Is it OK for them to be out in the store where anyone can hang around them, or should they be forced to be in some back room where you have to flash an ID to the clerk to gain admittance? I’m sure convenience stores would not like the latter — some stores aren’t configured that way. Again, we’re quite inconsistent as a society. Cigarettes are behind the register, but beer is often out in the store in the coolers (unless there’s a “beer cave”). True, if you intend to buy, you have to go through a cashier, but there’s nothing to stop kids from gathering around the cooler to leer at the forbidden brews within. Critics said that not having a restricted area would poison the minds of youngsters who could gather around the “skill game” machines and watch their older buddies play, but no one mentioned the sight of all that alcohol and what effect that might have on impressionable youngsters. On the other hand, if there is an age limit of 21 for playing these games, why are they allowed out in stores wherever the machines can be made to fit? Shouldn’t there be at least some modest physical restriction? If so, why don’t we apply that to the beer cooler, as well? (I have seen age restrictions on “beer caves.”)

Again, I’m not pushing for any of these rules, but I am curious about our intentional inconsistencies on which ages are appropriate for certain things. Ultimately, though, I’m curious about something that’s not very philosophical: the amount of tax revenues that these machines have generated for some communities in the past — enough in some places to pay for several teachers, which makes these games a bigger deal in rural areas than more affluent suburbs. How much should that potential revenue factor into the debate? After all, there’s no minimum age on paying taxes.

Yancey is founding editor of Cardinal News. His opinions are his own. You can reach him at dwayne@cardinalnews.org...