January 2023
THE MOST COMMON complaint I hear from young women about dating apps is that they offer too many choices - and especially too many bad choices. One compared the apps to rummaging through remainder bins. Maybe you’ll find what you’re looking for. Maybe it will come in your size. Meanwhile there are dozens of other women competing for the same thing.
The same holds true for men. Or maybe especially for men. The so-called “average guy” gets significantly less attention on the apps than the average woman:
Aviv Goldgeier, an engineer for the dating website Hinge … analyzed the share of “likes” on Hinge that went to the most-liked people of each gender. He found that inequality on dating apps is stark, and that it was significantly worse for men. The top 1% of guys get more than 16% of all likes on the app, compared to just over 11% for the top 1% of women. (Unlike swipe-based Tinder, Hinge is based on a system of “liking” some particular aspect of a person’s profile.)
Except when the apps work to men’s advantage. Men in the top percentiles face little incentive to meet “the one,” cancel their subscriptions, and propose. A friend of ours told us about a single, thirty-something neighbor. This man and men like him use dating apps the way he does DoorDash or UberEats. When they want food, they order it from their phones. And when they want sex, they use the same technology. The neighbor boasted that he was hooking up with as many as three to four women per week. When he was not hooking up on an app, this eternal adolescent played video games with his two housemates.
Our friend – an older, married male – shared this story with awe and not a little envy. It used to take so much effort and money!
Does this single guy ever plan to settle down?
“Why would he?!”
Many have compared the problems with using dating apps to online shopping. Don’t like his smile? Swipe left. Ugly shirt? Swipe left. He listens to techno? Swipe left.
But, as something of an [ahem] expert in online shopping, I don’t think this analogy is quite right. If the apps truly worked like online shopping, they would provide much better filters.
Let’s say I’m looking for a sofa. If I just type “sofa” into a search engine I’m going to bring up more than 1 billion results [quite literally: about 1,030,000,000 results (0.71 seconds)]. I can narrow my otherwise overwhelming options by shopping on a furniture site that offers styles I know I will like. Then I can refine the choices still further, filtering by shape, dimensions, color, price, and so on. In some ways, the various dating apps offer similar ways to sort people: by age, interests, fitness levels, employment, religion, preference for long-term relationships or casual hook-ups
But this is where the apps’ similarity to online shopping ends. There is no “More like this” feature. You can’t “See this person in your room.” (Or maybe better: “See this person in your family.”) And because there isn’t any consumer protection oversight, dating profiles can offer highly misleading information about the profilee’s true condition, size, and dimensions. What’s more, there’s no easy way out after you’ve agreed to meet someone. Once you are at the bar and realize the person is all wrong, you can’t just go back on the app and press “Start a return.” There is no pre-paid label and a “Just not right for me” box to tick. You’re stuck for at least the next hour talking to a sofa that is much larger and dumpier than you were led to expect, and covered in completely the wrong upholstery.
Now of course it would be problematic – and possibly illegal – to incorporate genuinely useful filters on dating apps: “See past five years of tax returns.” “Full disclosure of all cosmetic operations to date.” “Spends no more than X hours per week playing video games.” “Size of sexual organs true as pictured.”
Perhaps a better solution would be to incorporate a review feature. When shopping, this is the final thing you always check before you press, “Add to cart.” That’s because it’s only other consumers who will honestly alert you to any potential quality issues or pitfalls. That creamy bouclé sectional staged so nicely in a chic living room overlooking a pool?
*** Way more assembly needed than expected. Make sure you have the right tools to deal with it or be prepared to hire a professional.
* Arrived poorly packaged. One leg was damaged. Manufacturer was difficult to deal with and refused to exchange the item.
***** Love this sofa! I like assembling furniture so that wasn’t an issue for me but might be for others. It’s solid, comfortable, and looks beautiful in my living room.
Now imagine being able to post reviews on dating apps.
**** Tom was lovely, exactly as he described himself on his profile – even better in person!! We ended up having a few drinks together and laughing a lot. The reason I’m giving him only 4 stars instead of 5 is because we both agreed the spark was not there. But he would be a great match for someone who is more into the outdoors, especially camping. Alicia M.
*** Tom is definitely a nice guy but I was taken aback when he suggested we split the bill, especially as I’d only had a coffee and he’d ordered two beers. I guess I’m more old-fashioned about the man paying. Sonja P.
* Saw Tom’s great reviews and thought I’d give him a go. We met at a bar near my apartment. He definitely looked like his profile but he did not seem like the nice guy everyone says he is. He was really quiet and seemed upset about something. I kept trying to make conversation but it went nowhere. I don’t know, maybe I wasn’t his type, but it felt rude. Gulped down my glass of wine and got out of there quickly. Courtney B.
As with most rating features, the person being reviewed would be able to post a reply. So to Courtney’s one star, Tom might write:
Hey Courtney, I’m truly sorry you felt I was rude. I was going to text you earlier about rescheduling our date but I really wanted to meet you and didn’t want you to think I was a flake. The problem was I wrecked my car that morning/dealt all day with a horrible client/my mom was just diagnosed with cancer. If you’re willing to give me a second chance I’d love to see you again. Tom S.
BUT EVEN IF dating apps could offer more useful filters and ratings, they would continue to have one giant and non-correctable flaw: The decision making process is still taking place in a virtual world, not the real one.
For all the issues of the “pre-Me Too era,” you had no choice but to meet potential mates IRL. One huge advantage of this reality-based dating system was it narrowed the pool to your community and social groups. You weren’t rooting through an inbox of total strangers. Maybe you met your date in your college biology class. Or she lived in your building. Or you attended a party thrown by a mutual acquaintance. Or a group of you went to the same bar every Friday for Happy Hour.
Often it was in the workplace itself. (I know! I know!) Or even through work. A new colleague would show up in the office one day. Or you’d spend long hours working on a project with a client. You were never stumped for an opening line because the circumstances themselves provided endless opportunities for conversation. A banal greeting at the elevator could lead to, “Hey, are you headed to the cafeteria too?” which could then lead to, “Do you mind if I join you? I’d love your opinion on ‘such-and-such’.”
Rarely, at least by the late Eighties, did offices resemble some Mad Men hunting ground of male predators pouncing upon vulnerable females. (The first protections against discrimination of women in the workforce were enacted under the 1964 Civil Rights Act. In 1980, the Equal Opportunity Commission deemed sexual harassment as a form of sexual discrimination prohibited by Title VII. And in 1986, the Supreme Court ruled that speech itself can create a hostile environment – so no more off-color jokes around the water cooler!)
Real-world encounters provided multiple exits for either party to indicate lack of interest without outright rejection – or to reveal interest without fear of causing offense. In the absence of any other way to meet a potential mate, you were always alive and open to the possibility of it. Finding a partner could not be delegated to the hours you planned to spend later at home scrolling through your phone or computer. It had to happen in the here and now.
Casual, flirtatious banter was our equivalent of texting. A subtly raised eyebrow, a second glance, a flushed smile – these were our emojis. And sure, people got drunk and high and sloppy and did things they regretted. My generation came of age in the cocaine-fueled era of punk rock and New Wave, after all. We were hardly Victorians. But we weren’t Free Love Boomers either. The AIDS epidemic put a damper on promiscuous sex. In the absence of smart phones and dating profiles, we had no choice but to get to know another human being by chance and conversation.
And sometimes (often!) chance encounters delivered surprising results. A person you might have quickly swiped left on an app, because he wasn’t your physical type or didn’t share the same immediate interests, turned out to be fascinating, charming, funny. Quirkiness and originality don’t do well with algorithms. But they can reveal themselves over a beer, if given the opportunity.
I’m not saying the Bad Old Days were better. But they weren’t all bad either. One of the major side-effects of Me Too has been the paralysis of mating rituals between the sexes. Men insist they’re terrified to approach women lest they be accused of harassment or worse. Women in turn express frustration that men don’t bother to make an effort or seem serious about commitment (see Video Game Roommates, Above). Throw in two years of isolation and remote work under Covid and it’s amazing anyone still meets anyone at all.
SO HERE IS a New Year’s Resolution for the singletons of 2023: Go cold turkey! Put away your apps. Look up from your screens. Remove your air pods. If you see someone of interest, make a friendly comment while waiting for your Iced Caramel Macchiato. Pause to pet and chat about her dog. Laugh about the slow service at a crowded bar. Ask about his workout routine as you lace up your shoes before a class. Above all, be open to the possibilities around you.
Corny advice? Sure it’s corny – and maybe difficult when everyone else insists on shutting themselves off. But if the apps aren’t doing it for you, isn’t it worth a try?
We would love to hear from readers about their own experience with dating apps and attempts to meet people IRL. Send us an email (contact@femsplainers.com) or write a comment below!
We interviewed Shannon Watts just before the 2018 elections. She spoke about how she modeled her organization’s mission on that of Moms Against Drunk Driving: In order to change laws you have to change public opinion. Before MADD, drunk driving was treated like a joke — a punchline staple of late-night comedy shows. But by 2013, 10,076 people were killed due to drunk driving, a 55% drop in deaths since the group’s founding in 1980.
As gun ownership has rocketed upwards, Watts’ plan is to bring that same kind of awareness to every day gun violence. Some 5 million Americans became new gun owners in 2021, up from 2.4 million in 2019. But just as MADD didn’t seek to eliminate alcohol from society — instead, advocating responsibly use re-enforced by tough drunk driving laws — Moms Demand Action takes the same approach to gun ownership. In this interview, Watts also notes how guns in the home are more likely to hurt women and children than protect them. Listen here:
THIS MONTH I thought I'd try something new with our book feature. My 21-year-old daughter, Bea, asked me ro recommend some books to read over the holiday break. She'd just finished Virginia Woolf's novel, To the Lighthouse, and really loved it. I told her I'd always preferred Woolf's essays over her fiction (but now am reconsidering that view after Bea's enthusiasm for To the Lighthouse.)
Bea devoured A Room of One's Own in almost one sitting.
Woolf's classic musings on women in fiction, and a woman's ability to create art, was first published in 1929. It arose from a series of lectures Woolf delivered at two women's colleges at Cambridge, England. What struck me was how Woolf's voice was able to reach across nearly a full century and speak directly to this Young GenZer. Bea told me she felt many of Woolf's points were as relevant today as they were then, including "securing and fighting for women globally to have equal accessibility to education, work, and opportunity." Further, Woolf inspired Bea to believe that "every generation of women has a duty to study female figures of the past and make their lives known to those around them."
Bea similarly identified with themes in To the Lighthouse. She said the plot - which follows one family and their friends before, during, and post-WWI - spoke to the chaos and uncertainty her generation has felt over these past few years of political turmoil and now Russia’s war on Ukraine.
Are there books you like to share or would want to share with your daughters or other young women you know? Let us know in the comments section (or email Contact@femsplainers.com) and we will include a selection in upcoming newsletters. ~Danielle Crittenden
SO MY ESSAY on holiday travel with small children seems to have struck a very large chord… A friend reached out immediately over Facebook to commiserate with her own similar experience with her then-toddler and a Club Med. I’d mentioned briefly that front-of-office staffers (i.e. not the toiling maids, kitchen, and wait staff) sat with guests at meals. This promoted Club Med’s philosophy of so-called “egalitarianism.” But, as my friend wrote, by the time you sit down for a meal with the squalling kids (and ideally a double margarita), the last thing you want is a faux-friendly stranger plopping down next to you — least of all one whose opening gambit is, “So how’s your day in Paradise going?”
Reaction from Twitter:
Dave Drabold: This was truly great, I had tears at one point. My kids are the same age, we did not go communist, but the rest of it is so familiar. Thank you!
Oppositeofzero: I drove to Oaxaca from PA with my wife and 2 young kids for my job. we forgot the kiddie toilet seat and our youngest refused to defecate without one. In Texas at a Walmart we bought one and he went more than an adult. 3,000 miles with a 2 and 4 year old. Couldn't make the last stretch so ended up staying in a hooker hotel in Veracruz, make the mistake of turning on the TV and a woman was performing fellatio on a man, my 4 year old asked for days afterwards why she was eating him. literally 2 seconds of it burned into his brain
And from our subscribers:
[User name] Lasagna: Really great story! Brightened my morning. Thanks!
aporter: I remember those days without nostalgia. Very funny story!
Yvonne Worthington: Hilarious! [Aww thanks mom!]
Happy New Year everyone! And remember to please share the newsletter if you’re enjoying it.
Thank you for the thoughtful article, Danielle. I always appreciate your perspective. That said, “just say no” to dating apps is about as effective in my opinion as the campaign was for drugs in the 80s. Well-intentioned, but unrealistic.
Pandora is out of the box; and just like every other technological convenience whether it is Amazon, Seamless, or otherwise, people will choose it over the more “friction-ed” options. Plus, as you astutely pointed out, COVID-19 did a number on heterosexual courting rituals.
I say all this as one of the “1%”. As somebody who is sober and introverted, despite being a performing artist and rather gregarious one on one, I have very little, if any interest in hanging out in the bars trying to talk to women who often give off the vibe that they would be more interested in a Brazilian wax than having a conversation with a stranger. 
The Internet has been a boon for me, in a way, if you consider short-term sexual relationships, “winning”. Just like pornography, I fear that this short-term mating strategy has negatively impacted my ability to pair bond long-term with a woman. As you pointed out in your article, many men say “why not?!” and are quietly jealous of men like me. What they don’t consider is living the “golden years” alone, looks and swagger long gone, cobbling together some kind of community out of fellow never-marrieds that opted for easy instead of meaningful.
So, here’s to 2023; may we all find a way to return to less convenient more meaningful ways to date. Now, if you excuse me, I have to order products I don’t need on Amazon from the toilet.