“Not Gambling Is Victory”: Reflections from Those Who Awaken at the End of the Dark Tunnel

In life, there are truths so simple that people pass by them without noticing. “Not gambling is victory” is one of those truths. It may sound ordinary, lacking in dramatic flourish, but within it lies a profound understanding of human nature, delusion, desire, and the journey back to self-control. Those who have fallen into gambling can feel this sentence deeply, often through painful experience, realizing that the only way to win against gambling is to walk away from it entirely.

People are drawn into gambling not merely because they desire money. If it were only about money, work would be a clearer and healthier path. Gambling captivates because it touches the deeper layers of psychology: the thrill of risk, the rush of anticipation, the fragile but powerful hope of hitting a big win. In the moment the dice are about to stop or the card is about to flip, the brain releases a surge of dopamine stronger than that triggered by winning itself. This biological mechanism makes gambling addictive—not addiction to winning, but addiction to the sensation of waiting for luck. As people lose, they desperately want to recover; as they fall deeper, they cling to even smaller hopes. The spiral tightens.

Psychologists call this the “hope–failure–hope loop.” Gamblers do not see real probabilities; they only see the faint possibility of transforming their lives overnight. Every loss becomes an excuse to continue because they believe luck will eventually swing their way. They fall into a cognitive trap called the “illusion of control,” imagining they have grasped hidden patterns, while in truth they are being driven by primal greed and faulty perception.

From a Buddhist perspective, gambling is not just a game—it is an expression of ignorance. The Buddha taught that craving is the root of suffering, and gambling is a crystallization of this craving. Gamblers lose not only money but also mindfulness, clarity, and self-discipline. They rely on luck because they lose sight of the law of cause and effect, forgetting that blessings arise from merit, not from games of chance. The deeper they fall, the stronger they cultivate greed and delusion, generating unwholesome karma that brings even greater suffering.

Buddhism teaches that gambling is the pursuit of illusion. Cards and numbers are inherently meaningless, yet the mind projects onto them hope, fear, and fantasy. Once the mind becomes entangled with these illusions, advice becomes ineffective. Many recovering gamblers later say they were “not themselves,” controlled by an invisible force. In Buddhism, that force is the power of karma and desire.

Vietnamese ancestors also possessed deep insight into this. The saying “Cờ bạc là bác thằng bần” (“Gambling is the uncle of poverty”) is not merely a warning but the distilled wisdom of generations. Another folk verse says, “Đánh đề ra đê mà ở,” highlighting the bitter truth that gambling leads people away from responsibility and reality. Traditional culture teaches that gambling strips men of integrity and duty, not because of poverty itself but because of the moral collapse that follows unrestrained desire. Many families fall apart not due to hardship but because someone gambled away their character.

Gambling blinds people by feeding a toxic hope. Hope should be light, yet in gambling it becomes darkness. The loser wants to recover; the winner wants to win more. Both roads lead to the same end because the rules favor the house, not the player. Only at the end of the tunnel—when money is gone, relationships broken, and trust fading—does a small spark of awakening appear. This awakening is like reaching the bottom of deep water; only from the bottom can one push upward toward the surface. In Buddhism, awakening often comes through suffering, for only when one fully tastes suffering can one see the truth of it.

Ancient Vietnamese scholars taught that “unrighteous money cannot sustain a righteous life.” A single coin not earned through effort cannot support a lifetime of dignity. This reflects the deep cultural belief that what comes from luck can never form a solid foundation. Thus, “not gambling is victory” is not merely modern advice—it is traditional wisdom.

Gambling separates people from reality. It gives them a temporary escape from disappointment or dissatisfaction, but when the game ends, their problems return heavier than before. This avoidance weakens a person, making them dependent on games of chance for emotional survival. Buddhism calls this “living in illusion.”

Those who quit gambling, however, emerge like people waking from a long dream. They learn self-control, courage, and responsibility. They understand that life changes not through luck but through action. When they work, they sow good seeds. When they keep their hearts clear, they reap peace. A peaceful night’s sleep is worth more than any jackpot.

Thus, “not gambling is victory” is not merely advice to avoid a bad habit—it is a philosophy. True victory is not having more money than others but preserving inner peace, protecting one’s family, and maintaining dignity. And sometimes, victory begins with the simplest choice of all: do not enter the game. Only by standing outside it can one truly win.