Sorry fellow millennials, but Tinder is the absolute worst
Whether you use it for dating, a self-esteem boost, or a quick NSA shag, Tinder is just a bit shit
Tinder now has 50 million members.
50 million people who absent-mindedly swipe through banks of photos; their hands an extension of their genitalia. It’s something that everyone our ages uses. But I just think it’s terrible.
It’s as superficial as David Beckham’s attempts at acting. Okay, so you’ve matched with a ’10/10 would bang’. But I guarantee that unless you are James Bond himself (the Sean Connery reincarnation not the Daniel Craig one obvs), starting a conversation with a stranger with whom your only point of connection is that you both don’t gag when you see each other’s photos is always painfully awkward.
It’s almost laughable when you think about it. Someone actually thought ‘I know, let’s take the generation with the most self-esteem issues ever, and turn them into sexualised objects who judge and compare each other based entirely on their appearance.’ Smashing idea, whoever that was!
What’s even worse is that the 6 photos you use aren’t even realistic. They’re de-pimpled, boobs-hoisted, sock-down-your-trousers-edited, brightness-adjusted and Valencia-filtered to the max.
Call me your grandma, but I think all this is having a terrible effect on us. When 50 million people are looking for sexual gratification like this, it’s easy to view the person you’re talking to as an object, get bored of them and move on to someone else. After all, there will always be another person to match with.
This infinite choice means we will always think there is something bigger or better waiting just around the corner, leading us to be reckless, emotionally detached and carefree.
I mean, why would you bother taking someone to Nando’s (yes I’ve been on a date there…) when you can simply text them, have them come over to your college, sleep with them, and not have to commit any time, money or emotion?
Living in this world of shallow gratification inevitably leads to stupidity. I’ve full on Frankenstein’s-monster-ed before, convulsing in horror when friends who want to be Prime Minister have told me about the intimate details or photos they’ve shared with people they’ve met on Tinder. All it takes is for a screenshot of that photo of you with the Santa hat on your genitals (actual true story) to be leaked, and all those hopes and dreams come crashing down.
And what actually happens when you meet? How do you greet them when you’ve formed a connection with their idealised profile rather than with them per se? What happens when you see their various facial expressions, or hear their voice? Do you offer a handshake, a hug, or just whip it out and get going? The struggle is real.
You might also easily be cat-fished, thinking you were chatting to some hot, charming swimming blue when actually you were talking to a 52-year-old moustached man called Dennis who works in the local garage. Similarly, someone might seem amiable on text, but actually be really aggressive or pressure you into something you don’t want to do when in person. Are we, as a society, really okay committing the most intimate act with people that we truly know nothing about?
Obviously, this isn’t Tinder’s fault: apps are nothing without the people who use and popularise them. Their impact is ultimately up to us: they are just the tool.
But let’s not lie to ourselves any longer: so many aspects of Tinder are terrible. It’s facilitated the creation of a society where world where body is first, and personality second; where instant sexual gratification is literally around the corner with people that you know absolutely nothing about.
Ask yourself: is that really a world we really want to live in?