by Mykhailo Zborovsky, expert in strategic development of iGaming products.

Have you ever felt that small dopamine hit when you open an app to “catch” a discount? Or that impulsive urge to buy another blind box with a collectible figure, hoping for a rare one?

These micro-emotions that follow our everyday purchases have a very specific origin. It’s not just “fun” or “badges.” The gamification principles used in iGaming (a sector with strict regulation) are now widespread in everyday products, making interactions more engaging and interactive.

At its core, this is an exchange of our attention for uncertainty. It all comes down to exploiting the principle of unpredictable rewards — which psychologists consider the most effective mechanism for forming habits. A user may not spend money at first, but they invest time and attention in return for an unknown but attractive prize: a discount, a rare item, or money. This shifts the focus from rational action to emotional anticipation and excitement, turning us into constant “players” in the attention economy — “players” who will eventually be nudged into spending.

E-Commerce: Hyperstimulating Impulse Purchases

E-commerce is where gambling-style mechanics hit hardest, turning ordinary shopping into a perpetual lottery. Here, businesses perfect the creation of artificial scarcity and impulse-driven decisions.

A vivid example is the currently trending platform Temu. Choosing products there becomes a lottery-like game. The platform uses “Wheel of Fortune,” “Crack the Prize,” and time-limited offers where users must invite new participants to unlock maximum discounts or free items. Users are encouraged to “play” to reduce the price or get a gift. The game element is the uncertainty of the final reward (what discount will I get?) and the fast “action → unpredictable result” cycle that fuels impulsivity and repeat app usage.

Blind Boxes and the Obsession With Rarity

The use of risk-based gamification starts early — in the world of collectible goods. This industry mirrors slot-machine logic, where buying an item is essentially buying a chance.

The “Mystery Box” or “Blind Box” model underpins the success of collectible toys. Take the popular Labubu figures from Pop Mart. A customer buys a sealed box with unknown content. Each series includes standard figures and one or several rare models, often with odds like 1 in 72 or even lower. A collector thinks they are buying a figure — but in reality, they are buying hope. The belief that “the next one might be the lucky one” fuels frequent, often unnecessary purchases and a strong desire to complete the collection. The result: billions spent chasing sets that are not guaranteed to ever be completed.

Social Media and the Battle for Attention

The most subtle yet widest use of this principle happens on platforms whose product is our attention. Here, unpredictable reward is built into the core algorithm.

Social networks and short-form content platforms (TikTok, Instagram Reels) use the unpredictability of the next piece of content as a stimulant. A user never knows whether the next swipe will be boring or unexpectedly exciting. This uncertainty — a “loot box for attention” — drives endless scrolling. This is a direct implementation of the unpredictable reward cycle designed to maximise time in the app.

Another major space with unregulated gambling-style gamification is commercial mobile games built on the Free-to-Play (F2P) model. They create a dangerous illusion of a harmless pastime — “just a mobile game.”

A player gets free access but is continuously encouraged to make in-app purchases. They are gradually drawn deeper, motivated to buy resources, “life energy,” or keys to keep progressing, earn bonuses, or unlock levels.

The core mechanic relies on cycling between near-constant success and sudden, controlled obstacles. The game creates an illusion of continuous winning — new levels, bonuses, opportunities — with no real loss. This pushes players to invest more time, and when time runs out, money, just to maintain the illusion of progress. F2P often morphs into Pay-to-Win. The games consume increasing time, making real-life goals harder to reach while incentivising constant spending under the guise of “continuing the adventure.”

And here lies the biggest difference for me: in casinos, people enter knowingly. With mobile games and apps, users get pulled into gameplay disguised as “just entertainment.” Nowhere is it stated that the mechanics are built on gambling logic and on exploiting the desire to “buy” victory. Children often become users of such games, which makes the situation even riskier and demands additional safeguards.

This creates a strong FOMO effect — fear of losing progress — and nudges users to reopen the app repeatedly, turning our attention and wallets into slot-machines with “random” outcomes.

Conclusion

The phenomenon of “risk gamification” shows that the most powerful mechanisms for shaping behavior and retaining attention originate from the gambling industry.

The problem lies in a regulatory and ethical mismatch. When it comes to traditional gambling, society and lawmakers demand strict controls and condemn excessive engagement. But when identical psychological mechanisms appear in commercial apps, children’s products, or financial tools, they are seen as harmless “gamification” and remain outside regulatory oversight. These tools, taken out of the strictly regulated iGaming context, allow companies to exploit human susceptibility to gambling without needing to adhere to strict standards — making this one of the sharpest challenges in the digital economy.

Maybe it’s time to ask: If we treat gambling so strictly, shouldn’t we apply the same scrutiny to its “innocent” replicas that shape our behaviour every day?