Good2Go, Tinder and the cataloguing of interpersonal relationships
Each generation approaches dating slightly differently, and that change is accelerated and complicated by the availability of new technologies. Mary, a character from He’s Just Not That Into You sums up the struggle very accurately:
“I had this guy leave me a voice mail at work so I called him at home and then he e-mailed me to my Blackberry and so I texted to his cell and then he e-mailed me to my home account and the whole thing just got out of control. And I miss the days when you had one phone number and one answering machine and that one answering machine has one cassette tape and that one cassette tape either had a message from a guy or it didn’t. And now you just have to go around checking all these different portals just to get rejected by seven different technologies. It’s exhausting”
This movie is a bit outdated because in the five years since it came out, people have become increasingly dependent on smart phones for managing their social relationships – but Mary’s struggle is still very real. App designers and advertisers have attempted to address Mary’s problem in the way that all capitalists address problems, with increasing specialization.
Our smart phones combine almost all our methods of communication, except face-to-face contact, into one handy device. Rather than exhaust ourselves trying to determine someone’s intentions by talking to them, having a real conversation, we can simply shop for people the way we shop for products. The whole process of finding a romantic partner is distilled down to only its most essential, utilitarian elements. We attempt to pick romantic partners the same way that we pick out chairs. What kind of chair do I want? Do I want a plastic chair for a one-day event (or maybe a few days if it doesn’t fall apart right away)? An office-chair that will get me through student housing until I can chuck it and afford a really nice chair that I’m sure about (since I will obviously know everything about myself the second I graduate). Or do I want a really nice chair that I want to take with me to all of my homes and sit in everyday until I die? If I really am shopping for a chair, I know that I can find these things in different places. Wal-Mart will probably have my throw-away chair. IKEA will certainly have some solid options for that University chair to get me through my late-night study sessions. And that forever chair? I’m keeping it forever, so I’ll take the time and look at a few furniture boutiques I’ve sourced based on my taste – this is not a decision to be rushed into.
The exact same logic now applies to the dating world. If I want a one-night-stand I can browse an app like Tinder to find something, I mean someone, quick and convenient – a rest stop where I can address my sexual needs. If I’m looking for a comfortable (but not forever) partner, I might download the Plenty of Fish app, or simply browse Facebook to find someone suitably attractive and geographically located. If I really want to meet someone I can spend the rest of my life with, I may go so far as to subscribe to Lavalife or some similar human catalogue which takes a bit of time and thought that requires a bit of information beyond a picture, or a picture, age, and school.
This technology-based way of meeting people is hardly evocative of the passionate, fairy-tale romances so many of us grew up hoping for, but it’s easier. And it’s just the way you meet right? Once you’re face to face with the person, you can still get to know the other person the old fashioned way. Or can you? When you buy something you enter into a contract, and now there is a new app that intends to reduce instances of sexual assault by making an overt consent-contract part of the dating experience.
The Good2Go app attempts to simplify sexual consent by having the interested party get his/her date to answer a series of questions and input their phone number in order to signal interest in entering into sexual relations. It’s like Cinderella if her fairy godmother moonlighted as notary public. While there are positive elements to this app, it creates a level between the introduction and completion of an act that could be harmful, and it also gestures to a major social problem. It’s a level of self-surveillance. Have people become so detached from face-to-face interactions that they are unable to make smart, capable decisions about sex without dependence on an application? It is absolutely pragmatic, but hardly romantic.
Certainly some apps do take things to the extreme (such as Good2Go), but I don’t believe that is a convincing argument against all forms of online interactions.
You seem to have a strong bias against meeting people online, but maybe that’s due to a lack of success using this method? Nothing wrong with that of course.
I actually appreciate the “human catalog” aspect because it is a fairly easy way to determine compatibility between two strangers. While it may not be the most romantic, romance in itself is not a good indicator of compatibility. And who is to say that two people who met online could not later form a romantic relationship once they meet in person?
I wouldn’t call the realm of online dating “a major social problem,” but more so a practical way to use technology to our advantage to determine compatibility between yourself and a wide range of potential partners.