04/11/2026
Lin Sternlicht, cofounder of Family Addiction Specialist, was recently featured in Fortune discussing a rapidly emerging issue at the intersection of finance, technology, and mental health: the rise of prediction markets.
As these platforms scale, they are increasingly being framed as tools for information and analysis—places to “trade on outcomes” rather than gamble. But that framing may be exactly what makes them more psychologically accessible, especially to younger users. As Lin notes, prediction markets can feel more socially acceptable than traditional sports betting, often lowering the guardrails that typically trigger concern from families.
This matters because the underlying behavior is not fundamentally different. The mechanics—risking capital on uncertain outcomes with variable reinforcement—mirror those of gambling. And we are seeing this play out against a backdrop of massive growth: Americans wagered $167 billion on sports in 2025 alone, with a meaningful portion of users already reporting concerns about loss of control.
What’s changing is not just the scale, but the entry point.
Prediction markets expand the surface area of exposure. They attract individuals through interests in politics, economics, or current events—and then, in many cases, transition them toward more traditional betting behaviors. The result is a broader, more normalized funnel into risk-taking behavior that can become compulsive.
From a clinical perspective, this shift is important. Addiction risk is often less about the label (“trading” vs. “gambling”) and more about the behavioral loop: accessibility, intermittent rewards, and the illusion of control.
The takeaway isn’t that these platforms are inherently harmful—but that perception is lagging reality.
As innovation outpaces regulation and public understanding, there is a growing need for clearer frameworks around how we define, discuss, and ultimately safeguard against emerging forms of behavioral addiction.
Lin’s perspective is an important reminder: when something looks like gambling, feels like gambling, and functions like gambling—the distinction may matter far less than we think.
“I think about that money I lost every single day,” says Samuel Sharkey, a 23 year-old who lost about $10,000 on Kalshi.
