The Tinderization of America

The Tinderization of America

In my online dating magnum opus, written approximately one year ago, I discussed common pitfalls associated with the activity/sport/hobby (or whatever else you want to call it) in question.  That was before I was aware of Tinder, also known as the most fun app ever invented.   

Tinder has gone from an app with a sleazy reputation (created to be something like a straight version of Grindr) to a ubiquitous feature on the phones of most singles.   I have seen the following people on Tinder: elementary school classmates, high school classmates, college classmates, law school classmates, friends I know to be in serious relationships, and pictures of my friends in other people’s photos. 

I have seen Tinder used in the following places: the metro (must be Verizon), the bus (hold on with one hand, swipe with the other), birthday parties (makes a great game for everyone to judge others together—always a bonding activity), the workplace (taxpayer dollars well spent), public libraries (clicking yes or no requires less concentration than reading Shakespeare), the gym (great for an added burst of motivation between sets), etc.  My point is that the shame factor has dissipated in large part.  What does that mean for us as a society moving forward?  Will Tinder, as my uncle predicted, mean that nobody will ever get married? 

To break down my uncle’s query, we need to recognize what Tinder changes and doesn’t change.  Starting with the former, the app makes available a much larger pool of potential mates, which is a double-edged sword.  One could literally look through a hundred faces in the span of a few minutes, if one were so inclined.  This access to such a deep dating pool means that real quotes like these are possible from your friends:

“I just found one of my good friends who is married on tinder, and that was upsetting, even though I wondered previously if the two of them were swingers”

“Have you ever tindered through, that is, exhausted, all your matches?  It happens a lot here; it’s very depressing. It might be a small-town kind of problem.”

“Going for three (dates) in one nite, wish me luck”

“Ugh failed date 1 (of three) from last night is texting me”

It also means that the fear of losing someone with potential is lessened; in that regard, it makes the whole dating process more precarious, because it is harder to get through the initial phases.  On Tinder, everyone is new and exciting; it is so easy to lust after the next person and disregard what you already have (or what you are likely sharing with another suitor, to be more accurate).  The availability of new and shiny, combined with our artificially-shortened attention spans and addiction to our phones, create a recipe that is not necessarily a harbinger of long-term success.  Potential mates lose their intrinsic value because they are so easily replaced.  Your first date was ok but not great?  No need to explore further, there are six other first dates waiting in the wings. 

An additional impediment to reaching monogamy through Tinder is that if you meet someone on the app, there is a rebuttable presumption that both parties are seeing other people.  It is an unspoken rule not to ask the other party about this topic, and asking too soon can spell disaster.  Most people do not enjoy lying, and similarly do not enjoy telling (somewhat) significant others that they are sleeping around.  Most people additionally do not like to know they are sharing someone; it is a lose-lose, so don’t ask.  The trick is figuring out a way to transition from mass-dating to dating only one person, without the conversation coming too early or too late.  

However, despite these hurdles, the situation is not actually worse than it was in ye olden days.  One of the bedrocks of our democracy is freedom of speech, and in that realm, a controlling concept is the marketplace of ideas.  Similarly, Tinder presents a marketplace; after the newness factor of seeing many people of the opposite sex wears off, we are left with our emotions and desires, and the person who best satisfies those needs rises to the top.  Whether you meet someone on Tinder or at a bar or at a party, human desires remain the same; we want love, affection, sex, companionship, support, humor, and a challenge. 

Further negating the idea that Tinder makes serious relationships impossible is the sheer magnitude of choices, which, as I mentioned earlier, is a positive and a negative.  It is a positive because after one has become a seasoned dater (meaning becoming sufficiently jaded and calloused), one develops an eye for what one wants.  Once the buzzing whirr of the dating merry-go-round causes nausea rather than happiness, seeking an exit strategy becomes the primary objective.  In that vein, having experienced so many different wrong choices, it is easier to become more aware of the right choice, and more willing to claw to keep it, when it presents itself.  With that in mind, keep the faith, and with a little luck and persistence you may find yourselves deleting your Tinder accounts for good (whether you create a separate Facebook account to log into Tinder under a different name is a story for another day).