We’re Reviewing Our Dates Online: Let’s Talk the Good, Bad and Downright Sinister
There’s some vigilante shit going on.
Do you use a dating app? Or do you enjoy helping your single friends’ swipe (with their consent, of course)? With a variety of dating apps like Tinder, Hinge, Grindr, and HER at our fingertips, the possibility of finding a date appear endless.
We all know of a couple that met through an app and lived happily ever after. The New York Times even reported that Tinder HQ receives 50 wedding invitations every week, and the Bumble team is invited to a wedding almost daily.
Despite these success stories, such companies don’t often lead with good intentions, but with advertising spend targets. Are these apps genuinely meant to be deleted, or does the continuous stream of options keep us scrolling, ultimately serving the interests of their content marketing machine?
I'm not here to give the classic "back in my day" lament about dating because, truth be told, my dating experience has been pretty enjoyable, with only a few memorable exceptions – those dreaded bad dates.
You know the ones I'm talking about: the dates that involve painfully awkward and stilted conversation, where the chemistry is non-existent. These are the dates when you find yourself sipping your coffee a bit too quickly, desperately thinking of decent excuses to leave, all while they enthusiastically share photos of the mountain bike they plan to buy, or – wait for it – their My Fitness Pal diary detailing the macros they need to hit for the weekend's bodybuilding competition (I wish I were joking). Thankfully, life returns to normal soon after the encounter.
I’m cognisant that if we’re talking about bad dates, we can’t ignore the devastating reality of violence, intimidation, and harassment experienced as a result of activity on a dating app. The Australian Government released data earlier in the year that states “35.4 percent of heterosexual women have experienced in-person sexual violence facilitated by dating apps.” The number is even higher for people who are members of the LGB+ communities and these distressing experiences are also substantially underreported.
There are also serious issues with reporting problematic experiences to the apps with the Australian Government giving dating platforms until the middle of next year to establish a voluntary code of practice to enhance user safety, threatening greater regulation if they fail to do so.
All things considered, it's understandable that people are seeking ways to share their experiences with an understanding audience and navigate their way through past, current, or potential dates.
Sis is this your man? is a self-proclaimed 'Top Secret' private Facebook group specific to the Sydney region. In this group, women share photos of men they are currently dating, talking to, or have dated in the past, as a means of warning other women. It has now amassed over 28,000 active users, with many of them branding anyone who shares group content as a 'snitch'. Similarly, there is a version of men dating women – although their user numbers are much lower.
The group’s premise started with a suspicion that their partners were still “on the apps” while in committed relationships. This adds salt to the wounds as people anonymously share photos of their unsuspecting partners who may have exhibited suspicious behaviour, asking if anyone has been involved with them.
Sometimes, they would be identified and in those situations, the tea is fucking excellent.
One post reads:
“Organising to meet up later on in the week with Dean, 32 from out Camden way. Anything I should know? He offered to pick me up for our meet up and said he understood if I said no, but I politely declined that offer. Seems like a nice guy and pretty switched on?”
The response:
“This is my brother in law. ‘Happily’ married to my sister.”
Sometimes there’s no tea, but you can feel the anxious heartbeat of someone looking for answers, reasons, or anything to make sense of their fractured relationship.
“Hey everyone, this is my ex (German, 28 years old) and he cheated and lied to me really badly and I would like to know whether it happened before. We’re talking about the time from January 2022 until June 2023. Thanks for any feedback “
There is also a darker aspect to the group where women share their harrowing experiences with partners, serving as a warning to others in an effort to prevent incidents of harassment, threatening behaviour, intimidation, and assault. Some members even caution fellow group members to steer clear of specific men while disclosing such men's positive STI status.
In light of the challenges many people face when reporting incidents of assault or threatening behaviour on dating apps, it's understandable there's a demand for an alternate platform to share these experiences - despite the possible risks. However, while there are significant limitations on reporting this behaviour, it's really important to acknowledge that naming and shaming groups are one-sided, potentially lacking full context and truth of what transpired. Balancing the need for a safer dating environment with fairness, privacy and justice is a complex and sensitive issue.
There’s also another interesting trend popping up on these pages. Members upload a screenshot of a dating profile, accompanied by a caption indicating they've been chatting with the person for a few weeks (sometimes just days), and they ask for information or feedback. Essentially, they're gathering reviews before the actual date.
“Any ☕️ on this guy from Manly way. We are going on our first date soon and he seems genuine but want to be sure.”
“Is anyone talking with him, or has any info about him please? Scott from Edgecliff. He’s been very generous with texting and says all the right things. Not sure if he's genuine or just looking for hookups. I could use some tea since I’ve been through a lot, and I can’t handle any more game playing, ons, ghosting, etc”
I can't help but wonder about the aftermath of these posts. What happens next? Does the accused party find out and decide not to go on the date due to the negative review? Or perhaps they one day share a laugh about this whole investigative episode in their wedding speech?
Ultimately these 'Name and Shame' groups have given me a huge sense of empathy for the universal human experience on dating apps. After all, who among us hasn't been on a date where we might have been a little thoughtless, our nerves got the best of us, or our sense of humour was mismatched? I certainly have.
The intriguing part is that some of these reviewers may not have even met the person behind the dating profile in person. They base their review on factors like the quality of online banter, speed of response, and even appearance. It's a stark reminder that we've all been in those shoes, navigating the challenging terrain of digital connections and sometimes making snap judgments based on limited information. But having that information publicly shared by twenty-eight thousand single women across Sydney, without their knowledge, seems unnecessarily cruel.
While I'm not here to condone bad behaviour, either on or off dating apps, I'm also not suggesting that my approach of reserving judgment until the person on the screen becomes someone in the real world is a foolproof recipe for dating success. However, I do believe that until dating apps provide robust and secure reporting features to address intimidating behaviours or assault, it's understandable that people are seeking alternative outlets to share their experiences. Dating app companies do need to be accountable for implementing adequate reporting features and take a duty of care for their users to ensure a safer and more respectful environment for everyone.
What we must be cautious about, though, is wielding this power judiciously and distinguishing between a traumatic date and a bad one.
The thought of any of my 'bad dates' becoming a subject of online discussion is a terrifying one, serving as a stark reminder that we should treat others as we'd like to be treated, both online and offline.
Image via CRUDEOIL 2.0