The Mess of the Dating World

Any exposure to the modern dating world quickly teaches us that there is extraordinary chaos at large, and nowhere is this clearer than in the experience of dating app burnout. The stories are legion. Three amazing dates, a promise of a trip to Vienna or Vancouver, lovemaking all afternoon, then sudden disappearance. A month of texting while they travelled around the US, a few wonderful walks in the park, then a peculiar excuse about a knee operation, followed by silence. A fantastic two weeks, then at dawn, contact from a stranger whispering that the lover is in fact a serial cheat, with screenshots to prove it. A delightful spring or autumn, and then an anguished speech about needing time, not being sure, still having feelings for an ex, or wondering about the nature of existence (aka the metaphysical exit). And so on and so forth.

One might wish to blame something inherent in human nature. Or a species of bad luck. But the problem is more structural and more comprehensible.

It stems from two things: an unfeasible number of options and a lamentable lack of discipline.

The Lure of Endless Options

The malevolent genius of dating apps lies in providing users with an apparently fathomless array of viable candidates. Any night of the week, we might be out with someone new. And then we can come back and explore six other apparently stand-out figures for the week after.

The problem is, very, very few of these options are – in any user’s eyes – actually likely to be optimal. They aren’t appalling, which would at least be clear cut. They are in a perilous middle zone, situated somewhere between ‘OK’ and ‘perhaps’. They don’t exhaust the imagination: they have a dog one doesn’t want, or a child who is a bit annoying, or a missing tooth or a wonky nose; they are a few years too old or young; they don’t live in the right place or make enough money. They aren’t terrible, but nor are they what one has always secretly dreamt of and still believes (somewhere deep down) one can eventually secure with a fair wind.

When Compromise Becomes Self-Deception

This is where discipline comes in. Many people in such circumstances abandon the necessary caution. They are lonely, frightened of never finding anyone, they tell themselves they mustn’t be too choosy, the diary is empty – and so they delude themselves that a mediocre prospect might yet fulfil them.

So, in a waste of everyone’s time (their own included), they connect with the too short, or old, or young, or poor, or rich, and suggest dinner, intimacy and the prospect of love. The tragedy emerges in cases where the compromise isn’t two-way. One person shows up thrilled; the other arrives forcing themselves to believe this could be bearable. Before anyone quite realises what’s happening, the misaligned couple go to bed, a bond forms, nicknames arise, family stories are shared – all while one of the parties quietly plots a way out.

Meanwhile, the apps – like a glittering emotional casino – keep luring our imaginations back to the roulette table. Here is another set of candidates to delight in: what about this one who has a boat, or that one who loves brunch or tennis? It’s a new kind of suffering, to have messages from last week’s date (who now calls us ‘sweetheart’) when there might be another three possibly very special people pending in the digital waiting room.

Escaping Dating App Burnout

Because there aren’t any classes on this at secondary school, because people’s brains disintegrate in the face of complexity, disaster ensues. The capacity to behave morally and politely disappears. Rather than explain the ambivalence with courage, they vanish. Rather than resist the urge to sleep with someone, people go home together and then face a gruesome Saturday morning conversation over eggs and avocado.

The answers are – in theory at least – simple: never pursue anyone unless you are really quite sure. Never go to bed too early. Wait five or so dates before deepening the bond (it takes that long to know). Never use dating to bolster self-esteem, escape uncomfortable feelings about an ex, or avoid loneliness.

As in so many other areas of modern life, our primitive minds are not set up to deal with the abundance – the mediocre abundance – that technology delivers. We eat too many sugary buns, we watch too much porn, we scroll through too much daft news – and we date indiscriminately, then run out of someone’s life mid-conversation.

The solution to dating app burnout is standard: understand the issue, have compassion for it, and then – with a lot of bravery and moral fibre – stay home.