Rio de Janeiro, already infamous for its street muggings, corrupt politicians, ruthless militias, and Kalashnikov-toting drug traffickers, now faces a peculiar new public enemy: plushies dispensed by joystick-controlled claw machines.
On Wednesday, Rio police executed 16 search warrants targeting these popular machines, beloved by children and adults alike. According to the police press office, these claw machines deceive users into believing that winning a stuffed animal is a matter of skill. In reality, they are games of chance, akin to slot machines, and are thus illegal.
During the operation, officers seized claw machines, laptops, tablets, cell phones, a firearm, and numerous plush toys. Authorities are investigating whether organized crime groups, already entrenched in running slot machines and a widely played lottery known as the “Animal Game,” could be behind the claw machine operations. Additional search warrants were carried out in Brazil’s southern Santa Catarina state as part of this crackdown.
This was not the first effort by the police to tackle the issue. In May, officers seized 80 machines, some of which were stocked with counterfeit plush toys. An analysis revealed that these machines allowed winning pulls only after a set number of attempts. To achieve this, an electrical current would intermittently strengthen the otherwise weak claw, ensuring it could clasp onto the prize.
Such programming is undisclosed to unsuspecting users, including children, who may squander their pocket money on what amounts to a game of pure chance. Claw machines are a common sight in Rio’s shopping malls, subway stations, supermarkets, arcades, and toy stores.
Among the enthusiasts of these claw machines is 41-year-old Alessandra Libonatti. A dedicated player for nearly three decades, she recalls the excitement these machines generated when they first appeared in the city. Today, she still plays about once a week, either alone or with friends who share her quirky hobby. Libonatti takes pride in her skills, which she has fine-tuned over the years, such as carefully selecting the most accessible stuffed animals and positioning the claw with precision. One of her cherished prizes is a manatee with jaguar spots, a memento from a trip to the nation’s capital with friends.
“When I pass by a machine, I give it a look to see if there’s a stuffed animal that makes it worth it to play,” she said. “Because it’s not always worth it; sometimes it’s clearly a waste of money.”
While claw machines might have been genuine tests of skill in the past, most modern versions are programmed to ensure profitability for operators, explained Jeremy Hambly, a claw game aficionado from Milwaukee. He runs the ClawStruck YouTube channel, detailing how different models operate, and suggests that odds of winning should be prominently displayed on the machines.
In the United States, most states classify claw machines as games of chance but exempt them from gambling laws, provided they adhere to specific state regulations. Arcade operators are motivated to have players win occasionally, keeping them engaged and willing to spend more.
However, Rio’s claw machine enthusiasts, including Libonatti, have noticed a decline in their chances of winning, attributing this to modifications in the machines’ mechanics.
“The current machines are crap. The claws are weaker,” Libonatti lamented in a text message to a friend in April. Her friend echoed the sentiment: “I went back to the machines where I always got stuffed animals in recent weeks, and they’re so weak!”
The phenomenon has been labeled the “weak claw scam” by local media outlet G1.
The 13,000 plush toys seized by police in May were initially slated for destruction. Still, a judge, swayed by a request from state lawmakers, decided they should be donated to families in southern Rio Grande do Sul state who lost their homes to massive floods, especially benefiting children in shelters. The fate of the toys seized on Wednesday remains uncertain.
