A TWENTY-year-old photograph stands on the mantelpiece in my grandmother's house.

Snapped by my grandfather, it is of an eight-year-old boy and two of his brothers standing in an amusement arcade at one of the Butlin's holiday camps which dotted Britain's coastline.

The kids have bright eyes and beaming smiles light their faces. The reason has been lost in the swirling mists of time, but maybe the youngsters were giddy with excitement at being surrounded by the bleeps and rattle of arcade games, the flashing multi-coloured lights and glittering chrome.

Maybe they had placed 5p in the slot of a "grab-a-toy" machine and manipulated the mechanical claw successfully, plucking out a cuddly penguin as a prize. Or maybe they placed 2p into a "penny fall" machine then watched delightedly as a handful of coins clattered into the 'win' tray.

Twenty years on, I still enjoy the odd flutter: an annual punt on a couple of horses in the Grand National or a bet on whether England will win a crunch football match (both wagers, I hasten to add, certain to fail).

Despite my parents' apparent recklessness in allowing me and my siblings to wander - supervised, of course! - into that seaside amusement arcade, I have not become hooked on gambling. Nor, as far as I am aware, have my brothers.

But the Government would no doubt pooh-pooh such arguments. It plans to ban these seemingly harmless traditional fairground amusements to appease church groups who claim they are "the gateway to adult gambling".

This move, included in the Gambling Bill published this week, is bound to decimate amusement arcades in seaside towns, such as Filey, Scarborough and Bridlington.

If ministers were pulling out all the stops to crack down on problem gambling, one could see the point.

But most of the measures in the Gambling Bill will lead to an explosion in betting among adults. The Government's own figures suggest spending on gambling will rise from £8.7 billion a year to £12.5 billion a year by 2010 - that's 40 per cent.

Culture Secretary Tessa Jowell has outlined plans for a wave of "super-casinos" of more than 5,000-sq-ft.

Britain currently has 126 casinos with slot machine jackpots limited to £2,000.

But corpulent US companies including MGM Mirage and Caeser's Palace are already wooing local councils in a bid to secure planning permission, promising cash-strapped authorities a share of the profits. They are determined to set up Las Vegas in Leicester.

In Ms Jowell's head, casinos may come straight out of a James Bond movie - glitzy blackjack and roulette tables served by sequinned croupiers who pass cards and chips to men with black ties, fat cigars and glamorous women.

The reality is strikingly different. These so-called "pleasure palaces" are likely to be crammed with up to 1,250 slot machines offering jackpots of £1 million. People will sit transfixed, stuffing in coins - little fun, but highly compulsive.

Traditional safeguards - forcing people to be members for at least 24 hours and a ban on advertising - will be scrapped. Members of the public will be allowed to walk in off the street.

Critics argue that the most vulnerable people in society will be targeted. Research in the US shows that six per cent of people who live near these magnet casinos become addicted. Maundering Ms Jowell claims "super-casinos" will help regenerate economies.

But the places leisure companies are targeting - Salford, Hull, Glasgow - are among the poorest in the country. And the poorest people are, sadly, often the most desperate.

And all too often, the logic of the desperate is thus: What better way to try to free yourself from poverty and spiralling debts than using this last £5 to land a seven-figure jackpot from a slot machine?

But, as opponents of the Bill have pointed out, gambling adds nothing to the economy: it simply redistributes wealth from the poor to the rich.

Many Labour backbenchers instinctively shudder at the thought of Britain becoming the gambling centre of Europe - especially when the effects on the Party's traditional inner-cities heartlands could be so devastating.

So if I were a betting man, I might put a few quid on this Bill hitting a few fences in Parliament.

Updated: 11:24 Friday, October 22, 2004