During a week-long experiment on Tinder, my primary goal at the beginning was to observe how users discussed sexually transmitted infections (STIs) when matching and subsequently connecting. However, my experience swiftly deviated from my initial intentions. Instead of successfully connecting with potential matches, I encountered numerous instances of being catfished, leading to disappointment and discouragement. Eventually, I reached a point where I received no matches at all. It was during this time that I noticed a shift in my behavior.
In the quest for genuine connections, I found myself falling into the trap of endless scrolling through online profiles. I became fixated on this never-ending search, yearning for that elusive match that would make it all worthwhile. It didn’t even matter that I rarely received any responses or messages; the sheer act of scrolling had taken over. It became convulsive. I’d take breaks just to scroll. I’d defer certain tasks just to scroll for a few seconds.
At some point, it hit me like a lightning bolt – my focus had shifted. Instead of truly seeking a potential partner and using the platform to engage with them – ostensibly to know them on a deeper level – I was now consumed by meticulously analyzing each person’s image that popped up on my screen. I had succumbed to the superficiality of online dating, making snap judgments and decisions based solely on appearances. It wasn’t about connecting with a person. It was about judging their appearance and enjoying the pretense of power in determining whether or not to connect with them.
This realization was jarring. I had strayed so far from my initial goal and instead found myself caught up in a superficial cycle of swiping left or right. It made me question the true essence of online matchmaking and the potential consequences it may have on our ability to truly connect with others.
Online dating platforms, while offering a seemingly endless array of potential matches, can sometimes rob us of the genuine connections we desire and deserve. It’s almost a decision overload for our primitive brains. In the face of such overwhelming options, regardless of being mutual, we diminish the value of a single connection. We become addicted to the presumption of control over choosing a mating option when in reality we’re just looking at images on a screen. But our brains don’t know that.
The potential for addiction was embedded in the design of dating applications from their inception. Jonathan Badeen, the co-creator of Tinder, admitted its ‘swipe’ functionality was influenced by BF Skinner’s iconic operative conditioning experiments involving pigeons. These studies trained famished pigeons to associate food randomly dispensed on a tray with their pecking action.
Dating application user interface exploits our brain’s reward mechanism which naturally favors immediate dopamine release over long-term gratifications. This creates an appeal akin to transient satisfaction derived from junk food consumption as opposed to relishing a wholesome meal.
When we rely solely on appearances and superficial judgments, we limit ourselves and miss out on the opportunity to truly get to know someone – their quirks, their passions, their flaws, and their genuine qualities. It becomes a game of profiles and images, where people are reduced to mere objects to be swiped left or right.
It’s crucial to take a step back and contemplate the impact of online matchmaking. While it does offer convenience and a wider pool of potential partners, it is important to not lose sight of what truly matters in a relationship – genuine connections, shared values, and meaningful conversations. Perhaps it’s time to reassess our priorities and approach these platforms with a more discerning eye, ensuring that we are seeking connections that go beyond the superficial and truly allow us to connect with others on a deeper level.
I’d like to think that I knew that when I first opened my Tinder account. But it’s alarming to see how quickly I forgot it.
Sorry you’re going through the torture of online dating. I did more than my share on Match. Different but still hideous. The trick that we men are defenseless against is the old photo. I can’t tell you how many times I showed up for coffee or a drink and not only did the women waiting there not only didn’t look like the woman in the photo, rather, she looked like she ATE the woman in the photo. And don’t even get me started on “dinner whores.” It’s ugly out there. In all sorts of ways.
Haha! My son met his current girlfriend on Tinder. He wouldn’t tell me how they met, he was ashamed…but she certainly wasn’t! She yaps and yaps-tells me things I’d rather NOT know as his mother! I think he picked her because she resembled his ex-girlfriend…and has the same name! It’s all so bizarre to me, this old fashioned gal!
Lol … Don’t hold back Josh!