🫶 design for dating

So, you want to date in the digital age? Good luck with that. It seems like every time we turn around, there's a new dating app popping up, promising to be the one to finally help us find 'the one.' But have you ever stopped to think about the design of these apps and how they shape our experiences and expectations of relationships?

As someone who has spent a significant amount of time on dating apps, I can attest to the fact that they can be a minefield of superficiality and objectification. From the moment you create a profile, you're encouraged to present your best self to the world – but what does that even mean? Do you post a photo that shows off your abs, or one that captures your sense of humor? Do you list your hobbies and interests, or do you play it cool and let your personality speak for itself? (and i did the last one 👉🏽👈🏽)

👀 swipe right for love or left for...who knows?

It's no secret that dating has always been a little bit complicated. But with the rise of dating apps like Tinder and Bumble, things have reached a whole new level of complicated. Swipe right, swipe left, and boom – you've got a match. And then there's the actual process of matching and messaging happening in Happn and Hinge too. It's like a conveyor belt of human beings, and it can be hard not to start treating other people like commodities rather than as complex and multifaceted individuals. How do they determine who we're compatible with, and what does that say about our society's values and beliefs about relationships? And as the popular Black Mirror episode "Hang the DJ" so eloquently put it,"We're just units. We're just meat. We're just digits in their database." Yikes.

So where does that leave us? Are we doomed to a future of superficial and objectifying dating apps, or is there a way to design for something more meaningful and fulfilling?

In a recent article¹ of one of my admired author - in field of queer related designs- I read last week, Bo Ruberg explores the cultural history of computer dating, looking at how it has evolved over time and the ways in which it has been shaped by social and economic forces. Ruberg argues that we need to understand computer dating as a media phenomenon and to be more critical of the narratives that are often used to frame it. By complicating the teleological narratives that have often been used to talk about contemporary dating technologies, we can begin to see how computers became "personal" and how they have been used to reinforce social hierarchies and power dynamics.

📜 history of computer dating: from questionnaires to swipe culture

The way we find love has changed drastically over the past few decades. Gone are the days of meeting someone at the local coffee shop or through a mutual friend. Now, we have the convenience of swiping right or left on a multitude of dating apps to find our potential soulmate. Remember the days when you had to fill out a lengthy questionnaire and fork over some cash to join a computer dating service? It may seem like a distant memory now, but these services were all the rage in the late 60s and mid 70s. The idea was simple: answer a bunch of questions and let a computer do the matchmaking for you. It was like eHarmony, but with punch cards and way less swiping.

source: The New Yorker, February 14, 1961, cover.

Let's rewind a bit. In 1961, the New Yorker ran a cover featuring a massive computer spewing out a tiny paper card with a red heart on it for its operator. The depiction was meant to represent the potential challenge to the capabilities of human beings posed by these new machines. Fast forward to the late 1960s and mid-1970s, and you have the rise of computer dating services in the United States, using questionnaire data to match singles.

Sounds like a dream, right? Well, not exactly.

First off, let's talk about the questionnaire. These weren't your average Bumble bio or Hinge questions² about your favorite movies or hobbies. No, no. These were much more... clinical. Imagine answering questions like: "How often do you like to have sex?" or "What is your ideal weight for a partner?" Yikes. And don't even get us started on the algorithms. These were designed by a bunch of straight, white, privileged dudes who had their own ideas about what made a "good" match. So if you didn't fit into their narrow view of what a relationship should look like, tough luck.

But wait, it gets worse. These computer dating services were often run by men who saw women as a commodity to be bought and sold. They often marketed their services as a way for men to "get" women without actually having to spend time with them. Gross. And let's not forget the class and nationality factors at play here. In the UK, the first successful computer dating service was actually run by a working-class woman from London's East End. In contrast, the founders of Operation Match³ in the US were a group of privileged Ivy League students.

Now, fast foward to the present day. Dating apps like Tinder and Bumble have revolutionized the way we find love (or at least a casual hookup). Swipe right to match with someone, swipe left to pass. It's efficient, it's easy, and it's (arguably) more democratic than the computer dating services of the past.

But is it really all that different? Ruberg argues that the design of these apps still replicates many of the same biases and problems as the computer dating services of the past. The emphasis on photos and a brief bio means that people are still being reduced to a series of shallow qualities rather than being seen as fully fleshed out individuals. And the focus on "matching" based on specific interests and traits can lead to a commodification of people, as people start treating other people like commodities rather than as complex and multifaceted individuals.

🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🚫 persistence of heteronormativity in digital dating

This attitude towards dating and relationships is all too familiar in the tech industry, where women and LGBTQ+ individuals are often marginalized and treated as second-class citizens. It's no coincidence that the founders of some of the biggest dating apps today, like Tinder and Bumble, are also straight, white men.

And as Ruberg's article points out, this kind of unequal power dynamic is baked into the very design of these dating apps and we still see the ways in which online dating platforms reproduce and reinforce traditional gender roles and heteronormative expectations. Just take a look at the language used on many dating profiles – "masculine," "feminine," "strong," "sensitive," and so on – it's clear that these platforms are still heavily influenced by societal norms and expectations.

🧩 can we move beyond the commodification of relationships?

So where does that leave us? Is it possible to find love in a world where we constantly treat people like products to be selected or rejected based on superficial characteristics? Or are we doomed to a future where we keep on swiping, never truly connecting with anyone on a deeper level? It's up to us to decide. We can choose to prioritize genuine human connection and move beyond the commodification of relationships, or we can keep on treating people like commodities and wonder why we're all so miserable and alone. The choice is ours.

In fact, the concept of "swiping" to select potential partners has been criticized for promoting a "shopping" mentality, where people are treated as interchangeable options rather than as unique individuals. And let's not forget about the infamous "ghosting" phenomenon, where people simply disappear from a conversation or relationship without any explanation. It's a far cry from the romantic notions of love and connection that dating apps often market themselves with.

It's no wonder that some people have turned to social media platforms like Instagram for dating. With its focus on visual content and the ability to connect with others through private messaging, it offers a more relaxed and organic way of getting to know someone. However, as with any platform that prioritizes aesthetics over substance, there are risks. Instagram's algorithm can sometimes prioritize certain types of content over others, which means that people might not always see a representative sample of someone's life or personality. And let's not forget the pressure to present the "perfect" version of ourselves – a pressure that can be especially acute on a platform where people are judged so heavily on their looks.

🎨 designing for dating: my views

But it's not all doom and gloom in the world of online dating. As Ruberg notes, there are examples of dating apps that prioritize inclusivity and safety, particularly for LGBTQ+ and women of color. Of course, like all good things, the popularity of computer dating eventually coming to an end. Obviously, these shift in cultural attitudes towards technology and relationships. As the initial fear of being replaced by machines subsided and computers became more integrated into daily life, the idea of relying on a machine to find love lost its appeal.

But the demise of computer dating was about more than just a change in cultural attitudes. As Ruberg notes, the design of these services often reflected the biases and priorities of the mostly straight, white, and privileged young men who created them. The questions asked and the algorithms used to make matches were often filtered through their own particular worldview, leading to a system that privileged certain people and marginalized others. These are my view in design for dating platforms:

• Remember that dating apps are a media phenomenon, not just a technological one. This means that the way we design them should consider not just its functional features, but also the cultural messages and values it conveys.

• Don't treat people like commodities. One of the problems with early computer dating services was that they often treated people like products, reducing them to a list of attributes and preferences. Instead, we must design to celebrate the complexity and multifaceted nature of human beings.

• Be mindful of the biases and priorities of us. we should highlight the design for importance of creating safe spaces for women and queer people, especially in the context of online dating. Make sure that they have features and policies in place to protect people and promote inclusivity. also, we should consider the social and cultural context in which these dating platforms will be used. Different cultures and societies have different norms and expectations around dating and relationships. Make sure to design your app in a way that is sensitive to these differences.

• Don't shy away from challenging traditional gender and sexual norms. One of the benefits of designing a dating app is that it gives us the opportunity to challenge traditional notions of what constitutes a "good" match or a "normal" relationship. We should use this opportunity to promote diversity and inclusivity.

• Don't forget about the emotional aspect of dating. While it's important to design an app that is functional and people-friendly, don't forget that dating is ultimately about human connection and emotional fulfillment. Make sure to design dating in a way that promotes genuine connection and emotional engagement.

📌 conclusion

If you've made it this far, you'll notice that as we've gotten deeper into these niche concepts, we've thought less explicitly about people's thought of dating, and focused ruthlessly on design. dating is (or should be) universal, regardless of design. Even when I was trying to explore this in one of my HCI classes, I could sense that dating was still thought to be something shame to design on. Sometimes I wonder what if no one cares to design these abandoned fields like sexuality, relationships, intimacy etc., would we still be surviving ???🤔

As digital designers, we have a responsibility to allow these intimacy, homonormativity relations in people's life. The next time you're trying (and struggling!) to advocate for accessible designs, try looking it as a problem of access rather than ability. You might be surprised how it changes the conversation, like I did here with problem of access in dating.

So the next time you're feeling frustrated with your dating apps, just remember: it could be worse. You could be filling out a creepy questionnaire and relying on a questionable algorithm to find love. And maybe, just maybe, it's worth taking a step back and considering the ways in which these apps and their design might be complicating our cultural history of matchmaking by machine. And remember, there's more to a person than a few photos and a bio - try getting to know someone as a whole, complex individual rather than just a commodity in the dating market. Happy swiping! 🤌🏽🙂