Clarification

An editorial Tuesday should have more clearly stated the terms of a contract between racing executive Joseph A. De Francis and Magna Entertainment Corp. The editorial should have said the agreement would grant Mr. De Francis, his sister and several former co-owners of Pimlico Race Course and Laurel Park 65 percent of slots proceeds designated for the tracks' new owners. That money will be only a portion of the total revenue that will be generated by slots.

THOSE WHO WOULD turn to slot machines to solve Maryland's pending fiscal crisis describe gambling as a virtual found-money scheme - a way to balance the budget and pay for the state's growing obligations without real sacrifice or tradeoffs.

But like most things that seem too good to be true, the gambling prophecy is a false one, laden with potential disappointments and - worse - real financial and social costs that proponents conveniently ignore.

Slots won't dig Maryland out of its budget hole, they won't save horse racing or education or any other worthy state program.

But they will line the pockets of already wealthy interests with money from the mostly poor gamblers who will dump their quarters into slot machines. They will constitute a major shift in state gambling policy, carving a clear path to the eventual proliferation of full-on casinos in Maryland.

Slots will relegate Maryland - and Baltimore in particular - to a second-class status that could discourage other, more sound and legitimate economic development interests down the road.

You can cut Maryland's budget enough to balance it, and you can even raise taxes enough - or change the tax structure - to alleviate the current financial problems.

But you simply can't gamble your way to fiscal health.

Maryland shouldn't even try.

Witness the influence-peddling that has already surrounded the slots debate - all before Gov.-elect Robert L. Ehrlich Jr. has even formally introduced a proposal.

Gambling interests are swarming all over Annapolis, trying to line up meetings with the governor-elect and other top politicians, get their lobbyists in place and corral as many out-of-work pols as they can. One casino operator has already enlisted the Democratic Party's chairman to help make its case in Maryland.

The goal here is clear: Buy off as much of the political power structure as possible to prevent any formidable opposition to slots and to make sure the best terms - for the operators, of course - can be negotiated.

And the losers will be the state and its citizens. They will wind up with less money than they had anticipated, then find themselves defenseless against arguments for expansion. Casino operators, by definition, know how to get other people's money, and they aren't renowned for contributing a whole lot to pockets other than their own. But if they control the decision-makers, who will speak for the interests of Marylanders?

Of course, the casino operators are a full step behind connivers like racing executive Joseph A. De Francis, who long ago ensured that any slots deal would benefit him.

According to the contract Mr. De Francis negotiated to sell his interests in Pimlico and Laurel racetracks last spring, he and his partners will receive 65 percent of the slots take for the first five years. So much for the notion that somehow slots might help put the giddy-up back in Maryland's racing industry. They would just make Mr. De Francis and his partners a little richer.

That's not worth it.

The social costs of gambling are also formidable, and not to be ignored. Cities and states with legalized gambling realize considerable costs from the addiction of their citizens - everything from increases in crime to rises in bankruptcies, foreclosures, unpaid utility bills and loan defaults. Imagine, in a city like Baltimore, already horribly prone to addiction, how tightly another vice might take hold.

Finally, even if Maryland goes for slots, it will still face a staggering financial shortfall. The best-case scenario is that slots would generate about $380 million in the next fiscal year from licensing fees, then up to $800 million annually within a few years.

The structural deficit is higher than that. It is a reflection of some misplaced tax priorities (like the exclusion of services from sales tax) and some profligate spending by the current governor.

So the state could sell its soul to gaming interests and still have to make tough fiscal choices. High stakes for little payoff - a sucker's bet at any table.

Maryland is better off going the safe route: facing its problems squarely, and coming up with sure-fire, fiscally - and socially - responsible solutions.