Have you heard the news? Modern dating is dead. In the past three days, I’ve seen four different articles on my Facebook feed about the college hook-up culture, all bemoaning its absence of intimacy, honesty and commitment. Apparently, one of the biggest culprits to blame for this transformation is social media.
I decided to test one particular app that’s booming in popularity among millennials: Tinder. If you don’t know someone who’s on it, either your friends aren’t fessing up or … you have no friends. According to CIO, there are around 750 million “swipes” per day. Tinder’s premise is simple: You connect your profile to your Facebook page (to ensure you’re legit — as if no one ever made a fake Facebook), choose a couple pictures and start swiping. If a user comes up that you’re interested in, you swipe right; if they’re not appealing, you swipe left. If you both demonstrate interest, the app matches you and gives you the chance to start a conversation.
Tinder’s inherent shallowness became clear as soon as I started working on my profile. My Facebook picture was a goofy shot of me holding a huge box of dinosaur chicken nuggets — I looked like I was having fun, but it wasn’t the type of photo that screamed, “My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard.” I added a flattering, full-length one of me in the woods. On Tinder, all there is to recommend you is a couple pictures and maybe a one-liner. Not exactly the stuff of romance fantasies.
While Meg Ryan isn’t about to make a sickly-sweet movie featuring the app anytime soon (though can you picture a remake of You’ve Got Mail with Tinder instead of email? That would be hilarious) what it lacks in passion, it makes up in addictiveness.
“Tinder combines a lot of elements for people – there is a focus on that instant gratification for the user to get information on the go and wherever they are,” assistant professor in the University of Louisville’s Department of Communication Karen Freberg said. “We are seeing a trend in society where people want the information immediately, as well as visual content. Photos and videos are the social currency.”
Even though I’m not playing Tinder with the honest intent of finding a guy, I still get a rush every time I match with one. Unlike talking to someone in real life, where the lines between friendly and flirty are extremely blurry, Tinder pares the relationship down to the barest essentials. They like you, or they don’t.
Actually, I’m a little suspicious of the number of matches I’m getting. Either these boys are employing the low-risk strategy of saying “yes” to every girl they get, thus increasing their chances of finding a match, or I’ve hit the jackpot with my profile picture. Would my results be the same with the nuggets picture?
Meanwhile, the more I swipe, the pickier I get. Too big, too small, too beard-y, too beaky. I swipe right to guys that I might be into if I saw them on the street. It feels good to have the power to instantly dismiss someone — the app even stamps a big red “Nope” on their picture. Tinder may be so popular because it’s the smart phone equivalent of criticizing someone else to bolster your own self-esteem.
“It reflects how people judge others by first impression,” Freberg said. “This is not new, but what is interesting is to see how fast people do judge someone based on how they present themselves online through their profiles and visuals.”
My misgivings about the app as a legitimate way of meeting people grow as I continue to be matched with guys … and none of them message me. If they aren’t interested, why did they indicate they were? Am I supposed to be making the first move? I shot a “Hey!” to a random match, but he didn’t respond, even though his profile said he was active after it. I’m wondering if Tinder isn’t just not meant for dating, but not meant for hooking up, either. It could just be an easy way to seek validation through technology. There isn’t a huge divide between putting a picture on Instagram so your friends can like it and putting a picture on Tinder so strangers can like it.
On the other hand, one guy’s “About Me” section just says, “Pack a change of clothes and a pillow.” Way to be coy. He’s an instant “no.”
I have a new idea for a business — helping people like “pillow guy” not seem like such jerks on Tinder. But maybe his shtick actually works. After all, what do I know? I’ve had the app for two days and I’ve yet to have a conversation with someone.
Finally, on the third day, things start happening. A couple of the people I messaged respond, and some guys initiate conversations with me. However, the communication feels stilted and awkward. I can’t help but wonder how many of these guys’ “cute lines” they use for every message. Plus, it’s hard to build a rapport with someone when all you essentially have in common is a mutual attraction.
After I change my profile picture to a less attractive one, we don’t even have that. My number of matches plummets. I guess good lighting really does make all the difference.
Although Tinder was fun at first, I feel no regrets in deleting it off my phone. Call me old-fashioned, but I’d rather meet dates face-to-face, not iPhone-to-iPhone. I don’t like reducing a guy down to his face, his body and the four hobbies he lists, and I don’t like being reduced down to my appearance either. If you’re looking for a quick hook-up, it might be a good option, although I didn’t find any personal evidence that’s how people are using the app. If you want quick and dirty validation, it’s definitely a good option. Just keep swiping.