Why Gambling in Prison Is Not Just a Game—It’s a Threat

Let’s talk about something too many people overlook when they think about prison: boredom. Not violence. Not gangs. Boredom. That’s the real king inside federal prison—and it drives more bad decisions than anything else.

When people say, “I’d never gamble,” I get it. I used to say the same thing. But here’s what they don’t understand: prison strips your identity, your time, and your routine. Eventually, if you don’t find something constructive to do, boredom creeps in—and that’s when seemingly smart people start doing really dumb things.

The Real Currency in Prison: Time + Boredom

You might assume federal prison is a non-stop fight for safety. At minimum-security camps, that’s rarely the case. What people actually fight most is the crushing weight of time with nothing to do. That’s when TV, card games, gossip, and “the hustle” become lifelines.

Some guys read. Some write. Others work out. But many get pulled into gambling—not because they’re lifelong gamblers, but because they’re desperate for stimulation. It starts with spades or poker. Harmless, right? Just something to pass time.

Until you lose.

And once you owe? That’s where things get dangerous fast.

From Friendly Game to Real Threat

Let me walk you through how this really works.

You sit down for a game of spades or poker. Maybe you don’t even know the rules that well, but hey, it’s something to do. You lose a couple of hands. Maybe you’re in for $10, $50, a few hundred. You think it’s all play money.

Then your “buddy” across the table says: “You owe me. Call someone. Get the money.”

Now you’re stuck.

Some of these guys are good. Real hustlers. They spot a bored, distracted, or arrogant person a mile away. You’re not playing poker—you’re being played.

And if you don’t come up with the money? The pressure builds. The guy who beat you doesn’t care about your excuses. He wants his cash—and fast. The clock’s ticking. And the interest? Yeah, it’s running.

It doesn’t take long before it turns into “Make that call. I want that Venmo by tomorrow.”

Welcome to a whole new level of stress.

What Happens When You Don’t Pay

Let’s be clear: you’re not going to get stabbed in a minimum-security camp. But that doesn’t mean there are no consequences.

You’ll be threatened.

You’ll owe favors.

You’ll be extorted.

And yes—people have gotten yanked out of prison camps for “gambling-related debts” that turn into blackmail, extortion, or fights. You don’t want to be that guy.

You also don’t want to be the person calling your spouse, your mom, your kids asking for $500 because you made a stupid choice playing poker in prison.

What to Do Instead

So what’s the answer?

Don’t gamble. I mean it.

When boredom hits—and it will—find another outlet. One that builds something.

Here’s what I saw work:

  • Daily writing: Not about prison—about your past, your case, your future.
  • Structured workouts: Something with a goal, not just wandering the yard.
  • Reading for a purpose: Books on business, psychology, even fiction with depth.
  • Real jobs: Even if it’s mopping floors, treat it like it matters.
  • Skill-building: Learn something you can use when you leave—typing, Spanish, accounting, whatever.

The point is, you need structure. Because without it, you’ll go looking for stimulation—and gambling will be waiting.

Why I Stayed Out of It

I never gambled in prison. I saw what happened to people who did. I watched men who said they’d never play end up begging for loans or calling home in shame.

One guy owed money from poker, didn’t pay, and someone went to the counselor with fake accusations just to get him transferred. Another guy paid with commissary—then got extorted for more the next week.

That’s the trap. You lose once, and you’re marked. Now you’re someone who can be “played.”

I didn’t want that to be me. And you don’t want it to be you.

Final Thoughts

If you think boredom won’t affect you, think again. It gets everybody. But how you respond to it makes all the difference.

The guys who walked out of prison better than they walked in? They were the ones who created structure, avoided stupid distractions, and kept their dignity intact.

So when someone offers you a seat at the poker table, do yourself a favor: say no, and go do something that actually gets you closer to what matters when you get out.

Justin Paperny


P. S. If this resonates, join our team this Monday at 1 p.m. Pacific, 4 p.m. Eastern. We host a free webinar to answer questions, share lessons from real cases, and help you avoid the most costly mistakes people make during a government investigation. Bring questions. Come ready to learn.

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