Betting on the next pope

I firmly believe wagering on who’ll be the next pope is contrary to Christian teaching. The Bible warns us against loving money (1 Timothy 6:10) and urges honest labor (2 Thessalonians 3:10). Treating the election of our spiritual leader like a spectator sport treads perilously close to covetousness, which scripture condemns.

Amen, sister. I respect your view, but at the end of the day, it’s a legal pastime in much of Europe—and it’s thrilling to watch how the odds shift. It doesn’t change anyone’s faith or devotion; it’s simply a way to engage with world events. People bet on sports, politics, even award shows—why single out the papal conclave?

Exactly. Sociologically, prediction markets aggregate information: when $2.7 million poured into Polymarket within 36 hours of Pope Francis’s death, bettors were effectively processing public rumors and insider tips. It’s not about mockery or greed so much as collective forecasting.

Oh please—next you’ll have people betting on rain at the Vatican. At least in Britain. “Will Cardinal X trip on the stairs?” Give me a break. If you want divine intervention, cast lots like in Joshua 18—and hope you don’t lose your shirt!

Betting on a conclave does more than forecast—it risks reducing a sacred mystery to mere entertainment. Pope Gregory XIV even excommunicated gamblers in 1591 for such blasphemy. Though that rule was abrogated in 1918, the moral caution remains clear: don’t commodify God’s will.

The Church’s 1591 bull was a product of its time. Today, licensed operators run papal markets under strict regulations—age verification, KYC, anti‑money‑laundering. It’s as regulated as any financial product. If anything, that oversight underscores its legitimacy.

Let’s be honest: the conclave process involves dozens of cardinals (over 130 electors), private backroom deals, and shifting alliances. Prediction markets shine a light on that opacity. They’re not worshipping odds; they’re interpreting probabilities.

Backroom deals and alliances? Sounds more like my high school prom election. Bet they sold more favors to get the crown than the cardinals ever will!

Even if we grant your point about information, faith traditions caution against testing God or putting sacred matters up for speculation. The papal election is spiritual discernment, not a guessing game.

But if you’re convinced your prayer life drives the election more than polls do, why oppose someone placing a harmless bet? It doesn’t stop you praying or studying theology—just adds an adrenaline kick for those who enjoy it.

And a reminder: Jorge Bergoglio was 15th in most markets before 2013’s conclave. Markets can be wrong—and often are. If anything, their fallibility shows they’re not instruments of sacrilege but tools subject to error.

Error or not, next time I’ll bet on an underdog. Maybe Cardinal Caffeine—he’s got the energy to rally votes!

Also, can we please appreciate the name Pierbattista Pizzaballa? Sound like the name of my favourite barista AND a song from the 1960s.

I worry about spiritual desensitization: if we treat divine matters like sports odds, how long before prayer itself becomes transactional? Stewardship demands we manage resources responsibly, not risk them for entertainment

Responsible gamblers set limits. No one forces a $2.7 million dump; most participants wager small amounts. And many reinvest winnings in charitable causes—does that not align with Christian charity?