BlackJack
The game I played was Blackjack (with comically large cards), one of the most widely played casino card games, is a textbook example of a system built around partial control and carefully engineered randomness. It is simple to learn, quick to play, and highly addictive. With that, the target audience appears to be adults who enjoy quick, strategic-feeling games and are drawn to the illusion that skill can beat chance. The game is simple enough to learn that most pick it up as one of their first games of chance, which can act as a gateway.
Blackjack appears to reward skill and fairness, but in reality, its structure manipulates perception through engineered randomness and near-miss illusions, putting players at risk for addiction by offering control just convincing enough to conceal the house’s statistical edge. This embedded narrative of control is effective because it turns chance into a seductive, repeatable experience rather than a neutral mechanic. Drawing from Designing Chance and behavioral studies on near misses and reinforcement, this play session shows how Blackjack sustains addiction not by hiding its rules, but by disguising its outcomes. Unlike slot machines or dice games, Blackjack offers players just enough perceived agency to believe their choices matter, even when luck and stacked odds for the house dominates outcomes.
How Perceived Skill and Randomness Feed Addiction
Blackjack feeds addiction through the illusion of mastery layered over unpredictable randomness. Unlike slots, where chance is overt and fixed, Blackjack dangles the promise of control through decision-making. This structure exploits what Designing Chance calls “near-miss effects,” outcomes that feel close to victory and intensify engagement. For instance, drawing a 20 only to lose to a dealer’s (Amy’s) 21 creates a moment of emotional whiplash: the player did everything “right” and still lost. These moments activate similar neural responses as actual wins, leading to repeated engagement despite losses.
Randomness becomes the engine of hope, especially because Blackjack allows the illusion of skill. Players believe they can “play well,” and in some cases, like card counting, they can. But in regulated casino environments, these strategies are typically impossible to sustain. The randomness remains, dressed in the illusion of control.
Compared to games like Poker, which blend randomness with bluffing and long-term strategy, or games like Yahtzee that lean heavily on dice luck, Blackjack is unique in how it simulates skill in an environment ultimately dominated by probability. It feels winnable, even when it isn’t, which is precisely what makes it dangerous.
Addiction by Design
Blackjack’s pace and feedback system are designed to eliminate reflection and accelerate compulsion. Many Blackjack tables in casinos are designed with fast-paced play in mind, heightening the cycle of bet-loss-bet again. Faster hands mean more dopamine spikes, more decisions per hour, and fewer chances to step away. Some digital versions even remove social friction entirely, reducing play to a repetitive tap. This mirrors what what Designing Chance calls “fast-cycle enchantment.” The result is a closed loop of action-reward-response that mirrors the behaviorist framework B.F. Skinner described in 1953– reinforcement without cost to the machine. These conditions are ripe for behavioral addiction, as we’re constantly being hit with spikes of dopamine with every rapid round. The unpredictability of outcome, the visual cues (flashing chips, celebratory sounds), and the financial stakes compound to create a system that is highly addictive.
The game also makes strategy feel accessible but rarely effective, especially in house-regulated environments where card counting is thwarted by automatic shuffling. Like the teaser strips in video slots that show big symbols mid-spin, there are “tips” known in Blackjack offers (e.g. “always hit on 12 vs. dealer’s 2,” never “hit” when you have 16 was told to me by my Physics teacher in high school), but these tools don’t negate the built-in advantage of the house. The illusion of fairness is preserved, but the edge remains. As Designing Chance notes, machines shift from being purely chance-driven to chance-shaped experiences, tuned to keep players “in the zone.”
Ethics: When Is Chance Permissible?
As described by Alan (my boss!!) in his lecture- randomness in games isn’t inherently unethical. Chance can create fairness, generate surprise, or level the playing field. However, it becomes ethically impermissible to use randomness in games when that randomness is designed to manipulate behavior and conceal loss. As discussed in class, randomness can create joy, tension, and fairness (consider party games like Apples to Apples or dice-based RPGs). But when chance is shaped to exploit cognitive bias for profit, especially with real money on the line, it becomes coercive rather than creative.
Blackjack walks a dangerous ethical line. On paper, the rules are simple, public, and based on probability. But in practice, they are structured to promote addiction by overemphasizing moments of control while obscuring the broader odds of loss. Casinos reinforce the illusion of mastery (strategy charts, card counting lore) while operating games where outcomes are still heavily influenced by chance. When this design is monetized (and especially when it targets vulnerable individuals) it raises serious ethical concerns.
This aligns with Designing Chance’s notion that transparency of randomness does not equal fairness. Players may know the rules but are still drawn into “engineered enchantment,” a state of repeated play where knowledge is irrelevant and emotion takes over. As seen with industry professionals in the reading, even those who built the system “shut off” their rational mind when playing it.
Conclusion
Blackjack may appear fair on the surface, but its mechanics are calibrated to exploit human cognitive biases and patterns of addiction. The randomness it relies on is not neutral, it is engineered to entice and retain. While chance can be a powerful tool in design, its use must be transparent, fair, and ideally, free from predatory intent. In games like Blackjack, where the line between play and harm is easily crossed, that responsibility becomes a matter of ethics, not just entertainment.
