by Andy can pinpoint the exact moment he realized he was addicted to dating apps; it was during a break up in 2016.
“Halfway through the fight, she went to the bathroom,” recalls Andy, now 33. “And straight away, I just went on Tinder, looking to get chicks.
“I didn’t use the apps while I was in the relationship, but I didn’t delete them from my phone either. I thought, Oh my God, I’m on Tinder in the middle of breaking up with … this is not great.’”
Andy is a self-confessed dating app addict, who asked only to be referred to as he switches between Tinder, Bumble and Hinge in order to collect matches.
It’s an addiction that Andy has been battling for over ten years; he was one of the early adopters of dating apps, joining Tinder in 2013 when he was at university.
“Before dating apps, all we had to do was go to the bar and try to chat with girls, which worked,” he explains. “Being rejected in real life is unpleasant. On apps, if a girl stops responding, it’s no big deal – there’s a lot more to scroll through.”
Not only was he safe from rejection; Andy adds that he was very excited to find matches at first: “I immediately rushed knowing that someone was attractive to me.”
It’s no wonder this rush is addictive; Psychologist and addiction expert Dr Ree Langham explains that these apps tap into the neurotransmitter dopamine: effectively, the reward regulator in our brain.
“The reward system is designed to encourage behaviors that are critical to survival by providing feelings of pleasure, which can be exploited by dating apps,” explains Dr. Langham. “This can result from a dopamine rush of excitement at new games or interactions.
“Over time, the brain associates these surges with the app, creating increased use and tolerance where more frequent or intense use is required to achieve the same levels of satisfaction.”
According to Dr Langham, in this regard, dating apps “can be as addictive as gambling”.
“The unpredictability of the games and messages creates excitement and when a game has infinite scrolling and endless possibilities, it taps into the user’s curiosity and hope for potential connections.”
Little wonder, then, that Tinder, Hinge and other Match dating apps are facing a class action lawsuit in California by six users, for designing their dating platforms with game-like features that “lock users in in perpetual pay-to-play. loop”.
“Match’s business model relies on generating returns by monopolizing user attention, and Match has guaranteed market success through app addiction that fosters expensive subscriptions and perpetual use,” the lawsuit says. (A Match spokesperson, meanwhile, claims, “Our business model is not based on advertising or engagement metrics. We actively strive to get people on dates every day and from our apps.”)
But Andy certainly treats the apps like a game, describing Tinder and others like ‘online multiplayer’ – always testing which snaps and quick replies get the most matches.
“My friends and I used to have competitions about who could get the most dates – I would introduce three women over the weekend, sometimes meeting one girl in the afternoon and a girl at night,” he explains.
After scoring so many dates, Andy kept track of the women he was talking to and saw them in a wide spreadsheet, from the S series (women he considers the best looking) to the D series (the least attractive). Andy conveniently revealed that if a woman’s name is in bold, it means they had sex (there’s plenty of bold on the spreadsheet).
“I grew up in a generation where we all had Gameboys in our pockets,” he explains. “We could play Pokemon wherever we wanted. I look at Tinder the same way – when I’m bored, I swipe through matches.”
It was just eating away at his free time. Andy found his wallet pretty pumped too, after spending around £30 a month on subscriptions like Tinder and Hinge, which offer perks like unlimited stuff and the algorithm more prominent for your profile compared to free users. He even canceled a £200 lifetime subscription to Bumble.
“The apps give the impression that you’re in control,” he says. “Pretty much the more effort and money you put in, the more success you will have.”
It’s something writer Genevieve Wheeler, 29, agrees with. She joined dating apps when she was 21, after moving from the US to London to study. At one point, she found herself scrolling through different apps for five hours a day, checking in on her games first thing in the morning, last thing at night and many times throughout the day.
Although Genevieve matched with ‘hundreds’ of men, she actually only dated a few, with only one successful relationship in response (they broke up after a year together).
“It felt like men were collecting chips like Super Mario,” she explains. “It was addicting because different people had different end goals – but you always hope to meet someone who is aligned with you.”
Genevieve also says that while she didn’t enjoy being on the apps, she felt it was the only way to meet new people. It’s a fair assumption: 74% of Gen Z and Millennials use dating apps. However, that is not to say that people enjoy using them. According to research carried out by the platform Tylt, 84% of millennials would rather find love ‘in real life’ than online.
“We all feel sorry for them,” laughs Andy. “Every clue speaks to how much we hate dating apps. We are trapped in this banal dystopia where we have to do to find love.”
Relationship therapist Dr. Emily May agrees with apps that bring insight into the dating experience: “Users are looking for the thrill of the game over a meaningful connection. The endless choices make people less likely to form meaningful relationships. They are always thinking that there could be something better. Overcomparing each partner with others you may be slipping on can lead to feelings of dissatisfaction.”
Andy decided to tackle his dating app addiction in 2020. During the pandemic, he compulsively grabbed his phone to swipe. “I thought, ‘this is bad,'” he explained.
“The therapy helped me cut back, but it was the mindfulness that helped me the most. When I do a yoga session, I don’t even think about swiping.
“But during the pandemic, dating apps were one of the few ways you could connect with people. Living on my own, it was a real life experience.”
During the pandemic, people flocking to Tinder for swaps and games increased by 11% and 42% respectively, while a poll of 5,000 Tinder users showed that 60% turned to the online dating platform because they felt lonely.
And there’s no denying that dating apps have helped some people find love: a 2023 study by Currys found that Tinder had a 16.5% success rate in finding a partner. Elsewhere, Bumble had a match rate of 5.75%, with Hinge behind at 4.08%.
Although nothing came of her first relationship with a dating app, Genevieve found Mr. Right after a break from apps. After matching on an app during the pandemic, she talked to her partner for several months before meeting him in person. Almost four years later, they are now engaged.
“Apps aren’t inherently bad,” she explains. “At the heart of the community, they help you meet more people than you would otherwise, which means you’re more likely to meet the right person. You can treat the apps like a numbers game in the end: the more I do this, the more likely I am to find that person. But that’s not how love works – in the end, it’s just random.”
Andy wants to settle down too. But even though he’s gone cold turkey before from the apps (lasted 11 days), he still believes he has the best hope of finding a partner.
“I already have a date set up for Sunday from Tinder,” he said. “Unfortunately, dating apps are what we need to ensure we find a long-term relationship. It’s a treadmill we can’t get off.”
