Swipe Right, It’s a Match

Before the profiles and the prompts, finding someone relied heavily on one’s social circles. Courtship was defined by family, religion, community, and proximity, and while these conventions became more relaxed, dating was still reliant on meeting someone by chance—whether at work or school. Dating apps have changed this dynamic. Instead of waiting for the one, millions of people now swipe across hundreds of profiles, hoping to find their future love on the other side of the screen.

One of the biggest changes dating apps have introduced is the liberty to select potential partners based on explicitly stated preferences. They accommodate everything, from monogamous long-term relationships to casual one-night stands. Dating apps can even adapt to cultural and religious preferences; Muzz is a dating and marriage app tailored to help Muslims find people who practice Islamic beliefs. This is significant for people whose cultural values play a pivotal role in selecting a partner, since dating apps facilitate this process by finding others who share these expectations beyond one’s immediate social circle. This explicitness can be seen as liberating, as it bypasses an awkward guessing game—dating intentions are understood before the first conversation has even started. While this makes dating more efficient, it could be argued that it removes some of the ambiguity that traditionally makes early romantic interactions engaging.

Dating apps have also changed the manner in which people present themselves; photos, hobbies, job descriptions—it’s essentially LinkedIn but for dating. In this way, dating begins to look like a marketplace in which people try to make themselves look attractive for attention and compare potential partners. This does not necessarily mean that people are being fake. Self-presentation has always been an important aspect of dating. People tend to dress differently for the first date and choose the most flattering photographs; these behaviours all come down to making a good first impression. However, dating apps transform this process into something that is strategic; photographs are replaced, and prompts are rewritten in accordance with what receives the most attention. Users are not only trying to appeal to people, but also to the algorithm that determines which profiles are shown. This creates a battle between authenticity and desirability. While a profile provides valuable insights before meeting someone, it also reduces an individual to a set of characteristics. Hence, dating becomes focused on whether those characteristics match the set criteria or not. While people have always had standards when choosing a partner, online platforms facilitate this process by making it more immediate and systematic. Filters enable users to narrow potential partners by attributes like age, location, or interests, creating the impression that compatibility can be determined before meeting someone. It is almost like selecting a product from a catalogue.

We often assume that having more options makes it easier to find the right person, because it gives us more opportunities to filter through our different wants. However, research suggests this may not necessarily be the case. Pronk and Denisen (2020) demonstrated the “rejection mindset”, whereby participants became more likely to reject potential partners as they encountered more and more profiles. More specifically, the likelihood of swiping right on a profile decreased by 27% from the first to the last option shown. The rejection mindset appears to emerge because an abundance of options can make users increasingly dissatisfied with the profiles they encounter and ultimately their choices. This reflects a broader paradox of choice; when people are presented with many options, they become less satisfied with their choice because it is easier to imagine that a better alternative exists. This experience contributes to the phenomenon known as the “burnout cycle”. Constantly judging profiles, making decisions, matching with people and repeating the process can become mentally exhausting, especially when the ocean of options does not necessarily result in greater satisfaction. The cycle can therefore become self-perpetuating with users downloading the app, becoming overwhelmed or disappointed with the process, deleting it, and eventually returning in search of something better.

Rejection has also evolved in online dating, as it can occur at a quicker pace and requires very limited interaction. A message is left on read, a match has disappeared or a promising conversation simply stops; these are all forms of “ghosting” which can feel pretty harsh. At the same time, ghosting can be seen as a natural cost of having so many choices. It becomes much easier to disengage from one interaction and move to the next. Interactions through a screen create a degree of distance between people, potentially reducing the empathy that typically accompanies face-to-face interactions. Hence, disappearing from a match can feel less like rejecting a person and more like moving on from a transaction. This raises the question: is there some emotional cost to dating apps? Research has demonstrated that experiences of rejection from dating apps are associated with poorer psychological outcomes, notably loneliness and depressive symptoms (Garrisonp, 2022). This is because patterns of ghosting and constant comparison can create feelings of inadequacy and frustration, especially when the process of searching for someone begins to feel unsuccessful. It should still be taken into consideration that the relationship between poor mental health and negative dating experiences is complicated, as existing distress may equally impact the way in which people use dating apps, implying bidirectionality.