The whole endeavor seems tired.“I’m going to project a really bleak theory on you,” Fetters says.
“What if everyone who was going to find a happy relationship on a dating app already did?
But in the past year or so, I’ve felt the gears slowly winding down, like a toy on the dregs of its batteries.
“Every city or every stop the entire way, I would just swipe.” He had no intention of meeting up with these people, since he and his friend were literally just passing through.
And he realized, he says, that “the idea of being one swipe away from a potential mate kind of lowers the meaning of potential interaction.”Hinge, originally, was a swiping app very similar to Tinder except that it only offered you people who were connected to you through Facebook friends.
I don’t believe hookup culture has infected our brains and turned us into soulless sex-hungry swipe monsters. It doesn’t do to pretend that dating in the app era hasn’t changed. Tinder arrived in 2012, and nipping at its heels came other imitators and twists on the format, like Hinge (connects you with friends of friends), Bumble (women have to message first), and others.
Older online dating sites like OKCupid now have apps as well.
I can feel myself half-assing it sometimes, for just this reason.
Larry Lawal, a 27-year-old straight male software developer in Atlanta, says he used to meet up with women from the apps for dinner or drinks several times a month, but now, “I don’t know, something happened [since] the earlier days,” he says.
“But on the other hand, Tinder just doesn’t feel efficient.
I’m pretty frustrated and annoyed with it because it feels like you have to put in a lot of swiping to get like one good date.”I have a theory that this exhaustion is making dating apps worse at performing their function.
But “it really is sifting through a lot of crap to be able to find somebody.”Sales’s article focused heavily on the negative effects of easy, on-demand sex that hookup culture prizes and dating apps readily provide.