The digital age has made parenting more complicated than ever. Online predators, cyberbullying, screen addiction, scams, and social-media pressures have made it easy to see danger everywhere. But in our rush to protect kids and our larger society from legitimate risks, we’re starting to treat every new online trend with suspicion — even those that blend creativity, community, and learning.
Consider card breaking, an online version of the classic trading-card hobby. “Breaking” involves opening sealed boxes or cases of cards — sports, Pokémon, or other collectible sets — and selling participation spots, much like a group auction. Participants buy in for the thrill of discovery, often watching live on YouTube or Twitch as packs are opened and cards revealed.
To some people, card breaking smacks of gambling: What’s more, they suggest that these events can be easily manipulated, akin to the recently revealed rigged poker games that were a part of the NBA gambling scandal. Accordingly, there have recently been efforts to prohibit them from the internet.
Those concerns have led to calls for restrictions or even outright bans. A recent Town Hall column likened baseball cards to casinos, while a recent Yahoo Sports article asked whether sports cards should be regulated. Platforms have responded too: eBay now requires sellers to obtain pre-approval for live breaks, and TikTok has banned specific streams under its guidelines for “surprise-based products.”
However, the idea that banning card breaking from legal venues would protect the public is misplaced. As it functions currently, card breaking largely operates in the public eye, often streamed live on platforms like YouTube or Twitch. This public visibility offers a degree of self-policing, which is reinforced by the establishment of clear rules for how the cards will be distributed before the sealed product is opened.
Forcing the practice underground would eliminate this transparency and inadvertently create a fertile environment for illicit, private dealings. The expanded trading-card marketplace is here to stay, and — at the risk of sacrilege — its tenets mirror the well-established fine art industry, for which online auctions are vitally important. As in that market, the pedigree of the host matters, verification of authenticity is paramount, and the popularity of a piece changes with time. For instance, Tom Brady’s football cards have only appreciated in value after his retirement and are now worth a considerable sum — especially when compared to his contemporaries.
Legitimate platforms and payment processors have mechanisms for buyer protection and dispute resolution. Participants in breaks also have numerous avenues they can pursue should they feel the host defrauded them. One of card breaking’s main tenets is trackable ownership through public visibility. Remediation efforts, in the rare instance they are needed, range from filing police reports and pursuing civil lawsuits to the tried-and-true method of public shaming — amplified by social media.
More importantly, card breaking and collecting offer benefits that extend far beyond the cards themselves. For younger participants, the process teaches patience, focus, and fair play — lessons that translate easily to the classroom and beyond. Kids learn to think about probability and value, to plan and make choices, and to negotiate with others. For adults, it rekindles the excitement of an old hobby that they can share with their children.
Viewed from this lens, the practice hardly represents a social threat. Instead, it is a valuable tool that rewards persistence, curiosity, and social engagement – particularly for children growing up in a digital age that often encourages impulsivity, instant gratification, and isolation. That’s a tradition worth keeping, not restricting or eliminating.