As teenagers, we knew not to meet up with anyone who started talking to us on the internet. If we did, we made sure to say goodbye to our families forever and be prepared to spend the rest of our days locked in the cellar of a pervert. Nevertheless, a few years ago, the internet became a popular place for singletons in their 40s or 50s to find love. At this age, you’re less likely to head out to the discotheque full stopandif you did, the chances of meeting a handsome stranger in the smoking area who might be a suitable future spouse would be slim to none. So it’s understandable. What’s less understandable is that according to recent figures close to 50% of 18- to 29-year-olds are now using online dating sites. These people still have youthful energy, they still go to the pub, they’re often in lecture halls packed with people their own age. They have ample opportunity to meet the love of their life in person. But the tangible world is not for falling in love anymore. Dating has been neatly consigned to the cyber realm. Online dating is so popular among my age-group that face-to-face flirting is beginning to come off as a bit perverted, lecherous or at best, just recklessly brave.
The tangible world is not for falling in love anymore. Dating has been neatly consigned to the cyber realm
The internet is a seedy arena but the way dating apps let love happen is strangely sanitised and controlled. As opposed to being pleasantly surprised by the lovability of an old friend or a stranger in a café, people are now trained to measure each individual against an extensive list of requirements. A handsome and kind friend, for example, might wear slightly tighter jeans than I would like; he may not be quite as interested in poetry as I’d have him be. Once, these short-comings would have been overlooked. Now, the better (and less embarrassing, less dangerous) option is to swipe through the endless options on the human-partner-online-supermarket. There are so many potentials on one application, surely someone of a higher calibre than this tightly-clad friend will arrive on his virtual noble steed. This level of design being the norm makes dissatisfaction an inevitability. This much choice makes people seem increasingly disposable to one and other.
The sanctity of marriage is under threat when the next generation’s introduction into the world of dating is via this seemingly inexhaustible source of alternatives to their chosen future companion. Frankly, a dating app’s business model thrives off people squeezing as many partners into one lifetime as possible. A third of people now meet their spouses online. One report by the Marriage Foundation has found that couples who meet online are six times more likely to divorce in the first three years than those who meet through family or friends. People who meet online are building from scratch. It’s easier to make a hasty judgement of character when there is no context to go on.
Couples who meet online are six times more likely to divorce in the first three years
Match Group operates the largest global portfolio of dating sites; 45 in total, including the three best known: Tinder, Match.com and Hinge. The personal information shared unwittingly or wittingly with these apps by their millions of users makes Match Group unimaginably powerful. It is difficult to conceptualise the sheer volume of information an application has on you. One Guardian journalist did request access to the data Tinder had stored and was sent back 800 pages of cringeworthy private information. An online dating service will know your most used chat-up line; the location and time of every message sent; if you prefer Asian to Hispanic. It knows your tastes better than you do. You may be unsure why you dismissed one dating profile but the algorithm that suggests future “matches” is so informed, it will figure out the pattern instantaneously and will no longer show you women with chubby friends (for example). The app will also study how you use their service; what time of day are you most likely to be looking for love, how long you consider a photograph before diving in or moving on, ie., it knows if you’re impulsive; it has figured out your daily routine and can predict what time of day you are most susceptible to loneliness.
Why does this matter? Because data is the economy’s fuel. A consumer’s data will be shared with third parties. Tinder’s privacy policy explicitly acknowledges that users’ personal data will enable other companies to deliver them targeted adverts.This means behaviour on the dating app will affect not only the type of hunks/babes a user will be recommended but what job vacancies they might see on other sites, what car insurance they’ll sign up for.
Match Group influences- and to a degree arranges- the marriages of millions. Their algorithms profoundly altered the destiny of swathes of the recently married population. At their fingertips they have billions of private messages, rejection texts, desperate pleas of the lonely. We shouldn’t be letting them see this stuff, let alone giving them the option to use it to sell us things we didn’t know we wanted. These tech moguls are designing our futures, they’re changing the fabric of society. They are playing God and there’s little evidence that they’re making us any happier for doing so.
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