Algorithmic Dating in Late Stage Capitalism
If Mr Big had first encountered Carrie on Bumble, he probably would have blocked her. Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Darcy’s slow-burn certainly would not have worked on Tinder, either. Harry would not have met Sally on Hinge. Ennis and Jack, though their ending was far from a happy one, would likely not have come across each other on Grindr. These cinematic, though often contrived, portrayals of love each had one thing in common: they all had a distinct lack of dating app involvement.
Although these love stories are fictional, and dating apps weren’t popular during Jane Austen’s time, this absence of Hinge and Bumble can also be applied to offscreen relationships; in 2023, Pew Research Center revealed that only 10% of American long-term relationships, or married couples, were introduced to one another by an algorithm. Outside of the United States, hordes of singles in the UK have flocked to websites and apps in search of a soulmate; according to a 2024 Ofcom report, almost five million Brits found themselves looking for love online.
With so many fish in the sea (or profiles in the database), you would think that there is a high chance of meeting the perfect “match” on the web, but the reality is far from this. With such a large and inconstant pool of people to pick from, you could say the interfaces of these apps are akin to online shopping, where users can scroll or swipe depending on their attraction to a handful of strategically selected, primped and preemed pictures. On the other hand, some say online dating is like a game, where users become addicted to swiping and liking. An assistant professor at Elon University in North Carolina noted that dating apps are designed to be fun, “making the whole process feel more like a game.” The act of swiping in itself can be damaging to the human brain: the thrill and unpredictable nature of not knowing who will pop up next can cause dopamine to be released, similar to a gambling thrill on slot machines. At its worst, dating app addictions have become debilitating.
With the threat of getting repetitive strain injury from swiping too fast, and the exhilaration of potential true love looming over users, online dating becomes less of a tool and more of a drug that causes harm and evokes delirium. However, the problems don’t stop there. Not only do you have an algorithm to compete with that wants you to keep coming back for more, but now some users aren’t even real people. With the rise of AI taking jobs, churning out nonsense videos, and even writing people’s wedding vows, it was only a matter of time before it started to seep into dating apps. How can we be expected to find true love on Hinge when Ben (24, works for a tech startup, is looking for someone who shares his passion for scenic hiking) is actually a bot birthed by a computer? Maybe his peculiarly smooth profile picture gave it away, or the fact that, in one of his shirtless photos, he had six nipples, a common occurrence in AI-generated photos attempting to create realistic humans. But, as technology advances, it will only become trickier to distinguish reality from fantasy, and the line between veins and wires will blur.
In a society so deeply intertwined with technology, where some even use ChatGPT to decide what they’ll eat for breakfast, it’s no surprise that computers have shouldered their way into the dating sphere. As long as we don’t let internet connection replace human connection, technology and humans can co-exist, and we might even find true love in the process.
Illustration: Eva Casey
