Online Dating in 2022 is Broken

For several reasons, I’m starting to lose faith in online dating. What was once a moderately well-functioning modern source of connection with others has become a painful process of navigating repetitive profiles, which often ends without finding any likable.

This year, I’ve noticed clear trends among the profiles I’ve encountered in the Bay Area. At a high level, it seems that many people aren’t taking dating seriously. And it’s creating noise for those of us who are. It’s worth noting that I’m a cis man, and most of my experience dating involves dating women, so my anecdotal experience might not apply to other types of relationships.

Before 2020, Tinder and Bumble were the most popular dating apps. OkCupid (OKC), Coffee Meets Bagel (CMB), and Match.com were also major players, but for folks in their 20s and 30s, Tinder and Bumble seemed to be the top two choices. Using these apps in my twenties and thirties, I could meet people and even find love. The apps are similar and straightforward: you’d swipe left on profiles you don’t like and swipe right on profiles you want. However, there seemed to be more like-worthy profiles back then – there was more variety, creativity, and hope.

Observation 1: People aren’t taking this seriously

Hinge allows you to specify your dating goals by giving you a few options to choose from and then letting you write a little optional blurb. You can also not define your dating goals, which I see often. I’m confused by the choice to not display any dating goals because one of the options Hinge gives in its choices is “figuring out my dating goals.” So if someone isn’t looking for a life partner or a short or long-term relationship and isn’t figuring out their goals, what are they doing exactly? At the very least, these folks aren’t practicing vulnerability.

Another thing I notice is the qualifying language in the optional dating goal blurb. People often write, “I’m looking for a life partner, but I know that won’t be everyone, so I’m also open to friendship.” I see multiple variations on this, but the spirit of it feels like the online dating equivalent of a guy approaching a woman and saying, “hey, wanna go on a date? or we could be friends, hehe.” This approach lacks confidence and integrity. What do you want? What are you here for? Friendship or partnership?

I also see people saying in their blurbs that they want to “take things slowly.” I’m dubious that these folks are interested in anything more than friendship. Relationships can come in many forms; they can range in intensity, pace, nature, and maybe an infinite number of other factors. However, when two people are attracted to each other, when there’s enthusiasm, the request to take things slowly usually takes a backseat. If someone meets the love of their life and still needs to “take things slowly, ” are they ready to be dating?

These observations, combined with the conversations I’ve had with some of these people, tell me that they don’t believe that what they’re looking for can exist. People who can’t even admit that they’re figuring out their dating goals are just “seeing what’s out there.” The people who qualify their dating goals and say they’re “open to connections” have given up believing their life partner exists. People claiming they want to take things slowly have their walls up and are probably more focused on their careers or dogs than dating. Each archetype is far removed from a serious approach to online dating, and interacting with them has been a waste of time.

Observation 2: People don’t have space in their lives for the relationships they think they want

I love dogs. I absolutely love them. In fact, I love all animals. I love animals of all sizes, shapes, colors. I love animals I don’t even know about yet. However, despite my undying love for animals, at this point in my dating career I feel sick to my stomach whenever I see a picture of a woman with a dog. There are an egregious amount of women in the dating pool with, I assume, pandemic dogs. And a lot of these people are obsessively attached to their dogs. I’ve been on a first date that ended early because the person wanted to go home to their dog. I’ve been on a first date where the person brought their dog on the date. I’ve seen people write in their profiles “don’t hate me if I ditch our date to hang out with my dog” and “my ideal fake sick day is a road trip with my dog.” Not “my ideal sick day is a road trip with you 😉.” No. These people are on dating apps bragging about how connected they are with their pets.

I dated one woman a few times over a month; we had a great time together and were starting to get intimate. She eventually flaked on our forthcoming date, saying that she wasn’t ready to be dating. I dated another woman for almost two months. She was open with me about the fact that she was seeing and sleeping with other people, and that she also happened to be keeping a friend-harem of men she’d been dating. I tried to be intimate with her, but she wasn’t open to it – she just seemed to want sex and dates. I can’t know with scientific certainty if this is true, but I believe the falling out we experienced was related to the fact that she was actively dating other people at the same time. Being promiscuous isn’t objectively bad, but I do believe that it can be the antithesis of looking for a stable, committed relationship.

I categorize these types of folks as not realizing they don’t have space for the relationships they claim to want. Perhaps people obsessed with their dogs indeed want a relationship with a human person, but they don’t realize that their relationship with their dog supersedes that relationship. I don’t think there’s some magic coincidence happening here. I guess the pandemic caused a lot of us to change. As we’re now emerging from the pandemic and folks are entering the dating pool again, Some people are already in a relationship with their pet, and others don’t realize that they aren’t ready in other ways.

Observation 3: People have unrealistic expectations

The last set of things that I see on profiles is particularly annoying. Seeing a hint of one of these things on a profile usually has me roll my eyes, typically to avert them from having to look at any more of their profile.

Some people will share information about their ideal partner. I love this. My favorite format of this information suggests co-creation, e.g., “I’m looking for someone to surf/bike/run with.” Others write, “I’m looking for someone to cook me dinner/teach me something/make me laugh.” The latter approach might work for some men, but I will pretty much instantly block for that type of language. If someone is willing to write on their profile to strangers, “make me <something>,” we already disagree about the purpose of having a relationship: it’s not for me to make you. It’s for us to build something together.

Another way I see unrealistic expectations in peoples’ profiles is in how they describe their ideal partner. I know a lot of profiles that say they’re looking for someone funny, yet there’s not one joke in their profile. I see profiles that say they’re looking for empathy and kindness and display no such qualities in their profile. Those two words, in particular, empathy, and kindness, have become substantial red flags. I don’t believe that anyone saying they’re looking for someone empathetic themselves empathetic. Empathetic people are simply….doing empathy. They don’t need to talk about how empathetic they are – doing so would be antithetical to being empathetic. The same is the case with people making jokes. They don’t need to say they’re making jokes; they just make you laugh. Or at least, they’d try.

How I adapted

Ultimately, I know I can’t control how others show up. When I started dating this year, I was swiping a lot and not having any dates. My goal was to go on dates with reasonably compatible people; to accomplish that, I knew that my strategy needed to adjust. I wanted good experiences on my dates, and I wanted to go on a date or two each week.

I started by casting a wide net and signing up for four dating apps: Tinder, Bumble, Hinge, and OKC. I did this to understand which apps worked for me and which didn’t. This year, I have only had dates using Tinder and Hinge, with one exception – I met a lovely woman at an in-person Bumble event, and we had a nice date. I recommend the in-person Bumble events because they’re places where singles congregate, but as far as the app is concerned, I uninstalled it recently.

The Tinder date and encounters I had were mostly weird. One woman and I hit it off, like really well, but she eventually started telling me about this illness that she said would afflict weed smokers, causing them to vomit. I lost interest when we had a really connected, intimate weekend together and she left me a one-minute voice message the next day, completely about the weed vomit thing, which I had politely made clear that I didn’t want to talk about. This experience was enough to have me mostly give up on Tinder.

Thankfully, I’ve had much better success on Hinge this year. I’ll often see the same women on various platforms – I’ll see the same woman on Tinder, Bumble, and Hinge. And I’ll be most excited to see her on Hinge because the platform encourages people to be themselves. Tinder and Bumble feel like the Twitter of dating apps, where they encourage terse blurbs, spicy photos, and a stronger focus on Instagram braggadocio.

Hinge gives users more flexibility in profile creation than the other apps by letting them choose their prompts and even add video and voice prompts. I’ve found that people like to engage with the video, and voice produces about as much as my photos, and I’m grateful that those features are available. This flexibility also allows me to perform the most critical online dating task in 2022: filtering incompatible profiles. Ruthlessly filtering profiles of people who are not compatible with me is the best practice I engage in while online dating, next to having a great profile and sending good messages. Out of necessity, I’ve developed an efficient strategy that, in retrospect, is enabled by Hinge’s features, which provide more indicators for me as someone intentionally looking for a mate.

I basically assign negative points to certain things I see in profiles. If enough points add up, I block the person, so I don’t have to swipe on them anymore. If I’m intrigued but don’t know what to say, I’ll swipe left and maybe deal with things later or let them reach out to me. If I see something that resonates and compels me to reach out, I’ll either like something on their profile or send them a message immediately.

I give profiles two strikes. One strike can be removed if I see something cool. Here are some things I see on profiles that I’ll add one strike for:

• wearing sunglasses in the first pic
• having 1-3 word answers to prompts
• not having relationship goals set (Hinge even offers a “I’m figuring out my goals” option!)
• having more than one dog pic
• not having a full body pic
• saying “you can do _____ for me”
• using the “best travel story” prompt
• having any photo containing an alcoholic beverage
• saying “I love comedy” without having anything funny on the profile

Here are the things that I will instantly block profiles for:

• saying “these prompts are dumb lol” (Hinge lets you pick your prompts)
• mentioning looking for empathy or kindness or if the words empathy or kindness are written more than once
• mentioning having lived in n countries
• mentioning looking for travel recommendations for ______
• having unclear relationship goals (e.g. looking for friends and long term and short term and life partner)
• having a picture with a dog licking your face
• using the “two truths and a lie” prompt (why so willing to lie?)
• drinking in the first pic
• face not clearly visible in any photos

Here are the things I will remove a strike for:

• having at least one non-smiling photo
• having at least one full-body photo
• being able to clearly see their pretty face in at least two pictures
• making me smile or giggle with something on their profile
• displaying confidence or irreverence
• displaying a sense of creativity or style
• saying they enjoy a type of exercise that I also enjoy

I wonder if we’re amid a change in the nature of relationships, perhaps where people are less invested in dating itself. I doubt that. I have a hard time imagining commitment and desire being absent from relationships in the long term. I think we’re instead in the midst of a change in the way we approach online dating and also grappling with the effects of the pandemic. People seem to be placing a low priority on dating apps and don’t seem to believe they can get what they truly want on one. And with so many people developing pandemic coping mechanisms, it might take some time before these people heal, truly letting their guard down and beginning to believe in genuine love again.