RALEIGH — Two Johnston County operators of video-poker machines are the latest to plead guilty to federal crimes as the result of a lengthy investigation of the industry in North Carolina. U.S. Attorney Frank Whitney held a news conference Wednesday to announce the pleas, which actually occurred quite a while ago, by David Godwin and David Godwin Jr.

The probe has already resulted in the conviction of former Transportation Secretary Garland Garrett and focused attention on the possible involvement of elected officials. For years, critics of video poker have scrutinized activities of House Speaker Jim Black, who has notably blocked legislation in the General Assembly to regulate the industry out of existence. Now, with Wednesday’s unsealed pleas, Gov. Mike Easley and Rep. Leo Daughtry have entered the picture thanks to sizable contributions each received from the Godwins during the 2000 election cycle.

Bob Hall, research director for the watchdog group Democracy North Carolina, told the Associated Press that he thought video-poker operators were essentially paying “protection” money to North Carolina politicians so as to avoid the fate of South Carolina’s industry, which was eradicated several years ago.

In this case, I think that Hall, plenty of other activists and commentators, and perhaps even federal investigators have jumped the gun. Moreover, even if the protection-money comparison is accurate, few seem to have considered who the victims and perpetrators would be in such a scenario.

First, there’s as yet no evidence of a quid pro quo, no testimony or documents suggesting that the Godwins or other video-poker operators purchased favorable votes from lawmakers otherwise planning to support a ban. To assume such a deal based on current evidence is to assume that no one could rationally oppose a ban without being bribed.

That’s silly. I oppose banning video poker, because I strongly believe in the principle of individual freedom, and I’ve gotten no bribes. I think big-money gambling is foolish and self-destructive. I also think that in a free society, adults have the right to do foolish and self-destructive things, and that coercive efforts to prevent them from doing so often generate their own unforeseen and deleterious consequences. If, knowing my opposition to government prohibition, a video-poker operator then decided to make a general-operating contribution to the John Locke Foundation, that wouldn’t be evidence of corruption. Nor is, necessarily, the existence of campaign donations by video-poker operators to supportive politicians such as Black.

Second, drawing Easley into the story, as some seem intent on doing, runs up against the inconvenient fact that he favors a video-poker ban.

Third, and here’s the key point, in protection rackets the payer is the victim. If there has been undue influence here, it has stemmed from the ability of government officials to affect the profitability, and ultimately the existence, of this private industry.

I’m not going to make excuses for those who violate current regulations on poker machines; the regs may be paternalistic but they constitute the law. If politicians have demanded cash in exchange for legislative favors, however, there is a crime worth prosecuting here — perpetrated not by the industry but by the politicians.

Hood is president of the John Locke Foundation and publisher of Carolina Journal.