What I Talk About When I Talk About Playing the Love Game

What I Talk About When I Talk About Playing the Love Game
Why, yes, a callback at LG1.

One of the repeating themes I'll return to is the inherent faith we have in technology, because we culturally were raised to see progress as perpetually helpful. We dream one day that tech will bring us to the world of Star Trek tricorders, and, in some ways, tech has delivered. Very few people, for example, get lost anymore (well, at least, not for very long) because of Google Maps.

But, driving tech companies is still that all-too-familiar desire to make as much profit as humanly possible. Where people can see this most obviously is in their hardware: things just don't seem to last as long as they used to, and it's noticeable when a phone from just a few years ago starts getting sluggish seemingly overnight. The era of "enshittification," a term coined by Cory Doctorow to describe the intentional worsening of things in the name of profit, is upon us.

Okay, but what does this have to do with online dating apps?

When looking at software, I always think about how the design might be influenced by the incentive to make gobsmacks of money. What happens when, as a service, you do your job so well that you are no longer needed? That's the question dating apps have been grappling with: how do you make money when being successful for your customers means that they leave?

While the obvious answer is "find new people to match up," that's, from a business standpoint, far more difficult and costly. Instead, you'd rather have people stay on the service for as long as possible. But, they'll only stay on if they think there's a possibility of finding a match. So, for many dating apps, the balance is to keep users hopeful enough to stay on, but single enough to not leave.

Examples of the screens used in Tinder for swipe-left, swipe-right, and matches.
It's so cartoon-y they might as well animate eyes bulging out Looney Tunes-style.

How do they do this? The most well known tactic is the Tinder swipe, which made finding a match game-like. You swipe left to reject someone, and swipe right to signal interest. If the other person also swipes right, that means they find you attractive as well, and Tinder displays an energetic confirmation that sends dopamine coursing through your body. Who doesn't like the rush of validation?

When you get used to this dose of excitement, the app offers you a chance to get more of it. Many apps allow you to "boost" your profile: in other words, have more people see it, and ostensibly increase your chances of matches. Suddenly, you're paying money when you might not have. Are you actually meeting more people than before, enough to justify the cost? I'm not so sure.

These little nudges and prompts are meant to pad the chance you’ll do what benefits the app most. And, again, the app is there to make money. I can see an argument that if an app doesn’t captivate users, then it will fail, where it can’t help any users then.

Imagine, instead, if Tinder showed you a list of potential matches–almost like a ballot–and you just checked off the ones you're interested in. Then, at the end of the day, rather than some Looney Tunes-style display, a boring read-out just showed: "6 matches today." Not exactly the same kick, is it?

A CBC documentary I was part of, in addition to a lot of other smart folks.

But, as consumers, we need to have literacy around these things. There are many ways that designers can try to affect behaviour, known as "dark patterns" in the industry. (I detail some of them in my book, Meet Grindr, but examples are abound on the web.) We have to ask ourselves: What motivates a service, and how does that align or not align to my needs as a customer?

We all do this outside of technology: think about when you're in line at the grocery store. You know the magazines, gums, and lottery tickets are there to entice you while you're waiting. No one stops going to the supermarket because the store is trying to pad your purchase a little more, but you are a savvier customer by understanding the game at hand.

The best way to navigate this is to slow things down. If something feels enjoyable, like endlessly swiping, it's worth taking a second to reflect on why it felt so good–and if it led to the intended outcome. Maybe the goal is just for a little ego boost, in which case, swipe away. But, if you're looking to find love, just because there are plenty of fish in the sea, doesn't mean you should try to catch them all.

Understanding that these apps are designed by people, where there are consequences (both intended and unintended), means being able to see these apps more clear-eyed for what they are, rather than what we hope they will be. In the end, that will make a better experience for us, and closer to finding what we're looking for. Everything is a game, and if you know the rules better then you're more likely to win.