Speak to anyone who uses “the apps” and they will tell you it feels like a full-time job. Except, rather than receiving remuneration for the labour of meeting someone, you pay them. Companies draw us in with expertly marketed performances of empathy and investment in improving our personal lives, we take the bait, swipe endlessly, feel undue pressure about our lack of matches and eventually get suckered into the trap of paying extra for a marginally better chance of turning our luck around, regardless of what we’re looking for.
It’s a model that has been tremendously successful for the likes of companies like Bumble, Hinge, Tinder, Feel’d and more. Forget the billions they collectively rake in. These apps serve to foster connections, whether you’re in search of f**k buddies, friends, or life partners. They are, as Hinge claims, “designed to be deleted”. They believe that “kindness is sexy, you being you is perfect and women come first” (a la Bumble). They would never dream of stooping to shaming tactics to pressure you into using them. Or would they?
A conversation about Bumble’s latest US ad campaign has brought that prospect into question. In a bid to “lean into a community frustrated by modern dating”, it chose to poke fun at those who have opted for celibacy in lieu of using dating apps, with slogans like “you know full well a vow of celibacy is not the answer”, and “thou shall not give up dating and become a nun”.
Oh, to be a fly on the wall in that marketing meeting. How was a campaign that essentially raises a giant middle finger at everyone from those who take vows of celibacy for religious reasons, to asexual people, to those who do not want to date (on a vast range of grounds ranging from general fatigue to trauma) greenlit in the first place? Especially from the company that claims to understand women so well.
they got the anti asexual billboards in LA pic.twitter.com/dNy0A56ZMq
The public reaction was swift, with the likes of Uncut Gems actor and socialite Julia Fox commenting: “Two and a half years of celibacy and never been better tbh,” on TikTok, the company soon issued an apology. In addition to vowing to donate to domestic violence charities, it said: “For years Bumble has passionately stood up for women and marginalised communities, and their right to fully exercise personal choice. We didn’t live up to these values with this campaign and we apologise for the harm it caused.”
Lesson learned, apparently. But beyond that, the misstep serves as a helpful reminder that these apps have never and will never care about the people who use them. We would wise to keep that in mind, especially as prices for their premium features continue to rise.
I’m saying this as someone who has both met my partner and made friends using Bumble. At times, it has proven to be a genuinely helpful tool in my life. It has also been the bane of my existence. Prior to the fluke of meeting someone I eventually fell in love with and making some pretty good friends on Bumble BFF after moving to a new town, I’d spent years entertaining fleeting connections that added zero value to my life, largely because my IRL flirting skills were limited to nervous fleeting glances and totally ignoring anyone I was attracted to. I’d convinced myself that endlessly swiping was the only remedy.
Duped by the promise that hundreds of men behind a paywall were interested in me, only to find my list of admirers chocablock with bottom of the barrel weirdos who only post group photos with their much better looking friends, I wasted hours of my life and way too much money on the app. My unconscious sense of brand loyalty to something that sapped my energy and self-esteem was in part influenced by my willingness to swallow the lie that it somehow had my best interests at heart. Even if, intellectually, I knew that to be bullshit.
Though still wildly successful (an oft-cited report claims more than half of babies will be born to couples who met online by 2037) apps are losing money at the moment. Earlier this year, Bumble reportedly made a $32m (£25m) loss in revenue – albeit much less than in 2022 – and others have faced similar challenges, with Match Group (which owns Tinder and Hinge among other popular dating platforms) also losing billions in market value in the past few years alone largely due to a lack of take-up in premium services from younger users.
In a perfect world, these losses will increase to such great extents that these companies will be forced to do what they’ve always claimed to and put users’ needs and desires first. To discourage people from feeling pressured into playing the dating game. To facilitate the vast variety of human connections that so many of us crave so that we can be free of the apps entirely. And crucially, to move away from models that make us feel even more guilty than society already does for being single.
That’s probably never going to happen. But at the very least, I hope this slow pivot to in-person dating gathers momentum, whether matches are made by friends or much less costly dating services. If it doesn’t, then I suppose bearing in mind that being a slave to apps isn’t helpful for anyone might help. It certainly helped me.
A campaign to stop women being celibate? Good luck with that
20
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17.05.2024
Speak to anyone who uses “the apps” and they will tell you it feels like a full-time job. Except, rather than receiving remuneration for the labour of meeting someone, you pay them. Companies draw us in with expertly marketed performances of empathy and investment in improving our personal lives, we take the bait, swipe endlessly, feel undue pressure about our lack of matches and eventually get suckered into the trap of paying extra for a marginally better chance of turning our luck around, regardless of what we’re looking for.
It’s a model that has been tremendously successful for the likes of companies like Bumble, Hinge, Tinder, Feel’d and more. Forget the billions they collectively rake in. These apps serve to foster connections, whether you’re in search of f**k buddies, friends, or life partners. They are, as Hinge claims, “designed to be deleted”. They believe that “kindness is sexy, you being you is perfect and women come first” (a la Bumble). They would never dream of stooping to shaming tactics to pressure you into using them. Or would they?
A conversation about Bumble’s latest US ad campaign has brought that prospect into question. In a bid to “lean into a community frustrated by modern dating”, it chose to poke fun at those who have opted for celibacy in lieu of using dating apps,........
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