Have We Considered That Tinder Might Suck On Purpose?

I don’t think it’ll be controversial to say that I don’t like online dating. Nobody likes online dating. Even people who are good at online dating don’t like online dating. It’s impersonal, it’s transactional, it makes you feel inadequate, etc. You’ve heard this before, you don’t need to hear it again from me.

But why does it suck so much? Why hasn’t it ever changed?

Most people, at this point, are aware of how social media apps aren’t neutral platforms that present an unbiased view of the world. They show you content in a deliberate, particular way to support their own agenda. This agenda isn’t a political one, as some might suggest- rather, it’s a financial goal: keep you on the app (and looking at ads) for as long as possible.

Sure, these apps nominally try to do this by allowing you to view global news or your friend’s vacation pictures, but these aren’t the ends- they’re the means. They’re the hooks by which they lure you onto the platform- and, crucially, they aren’t the glue that makes you stick. The constant dopamine rush of the content infinity pool, plus the potential for ceaseless validation by strangers and/or constant insecurity by comparing yourself to those strangers: that’s the real product that social media companies make. The platforms try to subtly guide user behavior in order to keep the app open on people’s phones as long as possible. That’s their only goal.

So why don’t we look at dating apps this way? Because from where I’m sitting, it doesn’t seem like Tinder has any incentive to actually find you a partner.

Most of the financial motivators are the same as Instagram or Twitter. These are free apps that slowly, subtly monetize their user base. They have the same investors who demand infinite growth in user numbers with a finite amount of people on Earth. The biggest difference is that the bulk of their revenue comes from selling premium services like the three thousand different tiers of Tinder you can buy- which gives them even more incentive to not let anyone find a long-term connection. After all, if you’re happy with your dating life, how could they convince you to spend $40 a week (the actual max price of Tinder Platinum! What the fuck!!) on improving your odds?

Many people have drawn some pretty drastic conclusions about themselves, other people, and the world from observations gathered during online dating. And I definitely don’t want to discount the personal/societal aspects here- there’s a lot of really gross things people do, unprompted, on dating apps. I’ve had more than one woman tell me the reason they agreed to a date was because I didn’t immediately- as in, within the first message- ask for sex. Obviously, at the end of the day, people make a choice to be weirdos, no matter what the systemic incentives are.

But my point isn’t just that things are bad, it’s that no one involved has any incentive to try and make it better. A population composed of users who find it extremely difficult to date is actually what they want. Like so many other things in our society, it’s convenience at the cost of quality. I don’t work for Tinder, I have no idea how much of the shittiness of their platform is intentional and how much is accidental, but the effect is the same.
I think the ripple effects of this (intentionally?) poor design goes out further than you think. Like I said earlier, a lot of people don’t look at Tinder and see a flawed system, they see a flawed society- or worse, a flawed self. For a lot of people- a lot of young men, in particular- the conclusions they draw from this can lead to some really self-destructive behavior.

Traditional male gender expectations include a very strong correlation between self-worth as a man and your success in dating. A lack of these things can lead to the development of some very serious inferiority complexities and/or the buildup of resentment towards society at large and women in particular. This is ridiculous, obviously, but it’s real.

There’s no better symptom of this warped worldview than the phenomenon of Andrew Tate and his various other troglodyte worm-like imitators, who prey on men who feel lonely and unsuccessful and convince them that the problem is they’re not a big enough dipshit. (The sinister part of this is that the more you act like a complete asshole to people, the more people will not want to associate with you- which, to the person convinced they’re fighting The Matrix, is just evidence they were right all along and the solution is giving Andrew Tate more money).

I firmly believe that it’s not that hard to date, and that most people will find someone eventually (that’s not me being romantic, that’s just the hard stats. Don’t flatter yourself by thinking you’re literally one in 8 billion. Odds are you’ll find someone your particular quirks and appearance resonates with).

But if you thought that online dating was dating- that the experience of using Tinder was not a warped view of reality, altered for financial reasons- you might think that the loneliness and frustration of the app experience is all that awaits if you try to reach out to other people. It isn’t.

You aren’t having a bad experience because you’re unlovable, it’s because a tech company refuses to give you the company and companionship you desire, because keeping you sad and lonely and desperate is better for their bottom line.

See guys, it’s actually capitalism’s fault I’m single.