Whether you like them or not, dating apps have become an integral part of meeting romantic partners. With roughly one in ten online adults in the UK using them, and the top sites seeing over half-a-million active users per day, it’s clear that they are a relevant contemporary phenomenon. But are they a positive tool, or should we be more critical of them? Certainly, the number of people who find a long-term relationship using dating apps is limited, with the Pew Research Center suggesting figures as low as 12%. So, are dating apps actually fit for purpose, or are they better suited to the realms of hook-up culture and “situationships”? And what are the consequences of this for those who are serious about finding lasting love? I spoke to a group of students and non-students who kindly offered their experiences and perspectives on the matter.
Firstly, let us give dating apps the benefit of the doubt. It makes sense for dating to be online in the digital age – after all, everything else is. In “traditional” dating, the spaces where we meet potential partners are usually so-called ‘third places,’ meaning communal spaces separate from the home or workplace (ie. bars, shops, gyms, etc.). For our generation, the virtual world has become a sort of digital third place, so why shouldn’t there be opportunities to meet romantic partners there? Arguably then, apps like Tinder and Hinge facilitate a way of dating that reflects the increasingly online manner in which we spend our free time, and perhaps our criticism of them is somewhat harsh.
Furthermore, dating apps provide an invaluable platform for those with “thinner” dating markets. Think LGBT+ people, older people, or people who are geographically isolated, for example. The ability to research potential partners with filters for age, location and sexuality may help level the playing field for groups that don’t fit the normative model.
In general, those who I interviewed had mixed opinions on dating apps. However, positive arguments that emerged were mainly about the capacity of these apps to make dating less complicated. According to one respondent, dating apps are useful because “You know where you are – you know that this person is single and they find you attractive, which takes away a lot of the barriers around approaching someone in real life.” Of course, the option to approach people in non-virtual settings is still there, but dating apps provide the opportunity to visibly put yourself out there and announce your intentions to date, in contrast to the ambiguity and confusion that may come with face-to-face flirting.
Two of the people I interviewed had been lucky enough to have the ultimate positive experience of dating apps – finding a successful long-term relationship. However, both of these respondents were aware of how unique this was: “My time on a dating app yielded the most desired result, as I found my boyfriend on there, however, I’m aware how rare that is…I would say that my happy ending is more due to faith or a happy coincidence, rather than due to the power of an app.” It’s no secret that success on dating apps is not certain and takes time and luck (and often perseverance through multiple negative experiences!) to achieve. For many, it simply does not happen, or they become disheartened long before it would. Ultimately, this begs the question of whether it is worth persevering, on the off chance that you may be one of the lucky few.
A touch pessimistic, I know, but negative perceptions of dating apps don’t end here. The majority of those I interviewed criticised the materialism of dating apps. Whilst physical attraction is an important factor in relationships, the version of yourself purposefully curated for your online dating profile may contribute to a lack of authenticity and a pressure to appear a certain way: “You’re showing off a manufactured version of yourself in hopes people will swipe right for you, which can be validating for some but also lower self-esteem for others.” The appearance-driven design of these apps also means that comments from matches are often superficial in nature, which can begin to feel minimising and shallow, further reducing faith in the apps. Developments have indeed been made to make profiles more comprehensive, such as prompts on Hinge or Bumble’s section for political preferences, however, we can’t deny that these apps remain largely looks-based, and the superficiality this risks. As one respondent concluded: “Overall I would say that these kinds of apps are quite materialistic and harmfully contribute to the phenomenon of “situationships” as they tend to minimise a person’s character to a couple of pictures and a quick swipe, further reinforcing the idea that there are “plenty more fish in the sea”.”
This impersonal method of securing a match can also make dating apps a poor alternative to approaching someone face-to-face. One respondent told me about her experience meeting her partner in a club, after a few disheartening attempts at app-facilitated dating: “I like that I met my boyfriend in person. There was a ‘spark’ that you don’t really get from interacting with someone online.” It’s easy to see how mindlessly swiping through profiles on a screen could be devoid of the thrill, or “spark” of a face-to-face advance. Yes, approaching and flirting with someone in person may be complicated and sometimes embarassing, but surely it’s also exciting and rewarding when it goes right – and isn’t this what dating is meant to feel like?
At the end of the day, someone is profiting from these apps, and their success relies on continued engagement. Some apps have paid features (e.g. Tinder Premium) which promise to secure more matches, risking exploiting disheartened and lonely people for financial gain. There is also concern that this produces a tiered system where those who can afford the paid version have a better experience than those who cannot; or even where those who are deemed less ‘conventionally’ attractive and therefore less successful in receiving matches have to pay, and those who fit the normative mold don’t. Generally though, it’s certainly off, and somewhat dystopian, to have people pay a subscription to meet a romantic partner. Surely this could go even further to suggest that it is not in the best interest of the app’s owners to have everyone secure a long-term partner quickly and efficiently, as this would reduce engagement and make them obsolete? However critically you see it, there’s something that doesn’t sit quite right with these apps offering paid features. It contradicts their image of a helpful, life-improving service to have unequal tiers – arguably, it should be either everyone pays or no-one pays.
Overall, dating apps are not going away – we live in an increasingly digital world, so there is always going to be online space for this area of life. We can only hope for these apps to be redesigned in a way that is less materialistic and promotes healthy, lasting relationships for those who desire them, rather than people ending up disillusioned and enthralled in hook-up culture against their will. Certainly, dating apps can be a useful tool in putting yourself out there, but there is a strong case for using them as a complementary tool rather than a stand-alone solution.
