Bad Bets: The Toxic Interaction of Prediction Markets and Insider Trading
America is living through a new “social media moment” as new technology platforms flatten out social distinctions in new ways — and not for the better. Two decades ago, social media platforms ushered in a new era of American politics and media, bypassing established gatekeepers and allowing anyone with an opinion to broadcast it to the world. Now, prediction markets and similar betting platforms offer the same sort of unrestricted access to something that should be restricted: insider trading.
According to a U.S. Department of Justice indictment unsealed on Thursday, an active-duty soldier involved in the raid to capture Venezuelan dictator Nicolás Maduro leveraged his classified foreknowledge of the operation into a $409,881 profit on Polymarket.
From December 27, 2025 to January 2, 2026, U.S. Army Special Forces Sergeant Gannon Ken Van Dyke wagered approximately $33,034 across approximately 13 bets taking the “yes” position on questions such as “U.S. Forces in Venezuela … by January 31, 2026,” “Maduro out by … January 31, 2026,” “Will the U.S. invade Venezuela by … January 31,” and “Trump invokes War Powers against Venezuela by … January 31.”
Van Dyke confidently bet the price of a new car on these highly specific outcomes because he knew for a fact that the raid to capture Maduro was about to take place. It happened early on the morning of January 3, and he reportedly participated. And because these outcomes were highly specific, the odds against them were long, allowing Van Dyke to rake in more than a 1,200% return.
This is almost exactly how traditional insider trading works. If a government official has internal knowledge of a policy change that will affect a business’s stock price, he or she can use that knowledge to buy or sell stock ahead of time to turn a profit. The only difference is that Van Dyke leveraged his insider knowledge in a prediction market instead of a stock market — gambling instead of investment.
In the immediate aftermath of the raid, Van Dyke’s actions suggest he knew that what he did was wrong, and that there would be a price to pay. That same day, he withdrew a majority of his winnings from his Polymarket account and transferred them to a foreign cryptocurrency vault. He then asked Polymarket to delete his account and changed the email on the cryptocurrency vault to an email address not associated with his name.
But he did not fool the FBI, who quickly tracked him down anyway with Polymarket’s help. “No one is above the law, and this FBI will do whatever it takes to defend the homeland and safeguard our nation’s secrets,” said FBI Director Kash Patel. “Any clearance holders thinking of cashing in their access and knowledge for personal gain will be held accountable.”
Beyond the ethical failure of insider trading, Van Dyke’s actions also constituted a clear national security risk. If a foreign adversary had known what to look for, they would have noticed a U.S. soldier wagering large sums of money on a very specific military outcome, which could have tipped off the targets of that outcome that some sort of military operation was imminent.
Fortunately, Venezuelan intelligence was not perusing the profiles of Polymarket users. But you can bet (pun intended) that, after a U.S. soldier exposed classified intelligence on the platform once, foreign assets will be scouring it and similar sites for useful information.
It is worthwhile to ask how this could happen. But the reality is that America has become so saturated with easy-access betting apps that it may be better to ask how it didn’t happen sooner.
According to a Siena Research Institute survey released this month, 27% of all Americans and more than half (52%) of men ages 18-49 (that is, of military age) have active online sports betting accounts. Such gambling is naturally addictive, as it combines the enticement of avarice with high-risk thrill-seeking. Thus, what begins for many as betting on sports outcomes can quickly spiral into betting on just about anything.
Indeed, there are more mundane examples than potential national security risks — a matter serious enough that it might jolt a compulsive gambler out of placing a bet.
Earlier this week, a different prediction market, Kalshi, announced that it had suspended three different congressional candidates for allegedly betting on their own races. The candidates included Ezekiel Enriquez in Texas, Matt Klein in Minnesota, and Mark Moran in Virginia. Enriquez and Klein wagered on the outcomes of their races, while Moran bet on himself under the question, “Who will run for public office this year?” — before he then announced his candidacy (Moran also distinguished himself by refusing to apologize or resolve the matter when caught). Kalshi banned all three men from the platform for five years and levied fines of $784, $539, and $6,229 respectively.
These further examples of insider “trading” in prediction betting markets underscore the toxic interaction of two social evils. In insider trading, persons holding positions of trust and responsibility abuse privileged information associated with their position for their own personal financial gain. In gambling, bettors risk their own money for the opportunity to take money from others, for which they did not work. At the very least, gambling betrays a spirit of greed that does not rely on God to provide.
Proverbs counsels, “Wealth gained hastily will dwindle, but whoever gathers little by little will increase it” (Proverbs 13:11). Gambling is thus always unwise, but its social ills are exacerbated when combined with politics or government.
Joshua Arnold is a senior writer at The Washington Stand.


