‘It’s as addictive as gambling’: How dating apps have ruined a generation’s love lives

Andy can pinpoint the exact moment he realised he was addicted to dating apps: it was during a break-up in 2016. “Midway through the fight, she went to the bathroom,” Andy, now 33, recalls. “And immediately, I went straight on Tinder, looking to get matches.

“I hadn’t used the apps while in the relationship, but I’d never deleted them off my phone either. I thought, ‘Oh my God, I’m on Tinder in the middle of being broken up with… this is not great’.”

Andy, who has asked to only be referred to by his first name, is a self-confessed dating app addict, obsessively switching between Tinder, Bumble and Hinge in a bid to rack up matches.

It’s an addiction that has plagued Andy for over a decade; he was one of the early adopters of dating apps, joining Tinder in 2013 when he was in university.

“Before dating apps, all we could do was go to the bar and try and chat up girls, which sucked,” he explains. “Being rejected in real life is unpleasant. On apps, if a girl stops replying, it’s no big deal − there are plenty more to scroll through.”

It wasn’t just safety from rejection. Andy adds he initially became hooked on the “thrill” of getting matches, saying: “I got an instant rush knowing someone found me attractive.”

It’s unsurprising that this rush is addictive. Psychologist and addiction expert Dr Ree Langham explains these apps capitalise on the dopamine neurotransmitter, effectively, the reward regulation in our brain.

“The reward system is designed to encourage behaviours critical for survival by providing feelings of pleasure, which can be exploited by dating apps,” Dr Langham explains. “This can lead from dopamine surges of excitement at new matches or interactions.

“Over time, the brain associates these surges with the app, creating an increased usage and tolerance where more frequent or intense use is needed to achieve the same levels of satisfaction.”

Dr Langham adds that, in this respect, dating apps “can be as addictive as gambling”.

It’s little wonder, then, that Tinder, Hinge and other dating apps owned by parent company Match are facing a class-action lawsuit in California by six users for designing dating platforms with game-like features that “lock users into a perpetual pay-to-play loop”.

“Match’s business model depends on generating returns through the monopolisation of users’ attention, and Match has guaranteed its market success by fomenting dating app addiction that drives expensive subscriptions and perpetual use,” the lawsuit says.

A Match spokesperson, claims that “our business model is not based on advertising or engagement metrics. We actively strive to get people on dates every day and off our apps”.

But Andy certainly treats the apps like a game, describing Tinder and others like “an online multiplayer” − constantly testing which pictures and prompt responses elicit the most matches.

“The apps give the impression you’re in control,” he says. “Almost as if the more effort and money you put in, the more success you’ll have.”

It’s something writer Genevieve Wheeler (29) agrees with. At one point, she found herself scrolling through various apps for five hours a day, checking in on her matches first thing in the morning, last thing at night and numerous times throughout the day.

While Genevieve matched with “hundreds” of men, she only really had a few dates, and only had one successful relationship in response (they broke up after a year together).

“It felt like men were collecting matches like it was Super Mario,” she explains. “It was addictive as different people had different end goals − but you keep hoping you would meet someone aligned to you.”

Genevieve says she didn’t enjoy being on the apps, but felt it was the only way to meet new people, given that 74pc of Gen Z and millennials use dating apps. However, it’s not to say people enjoy using them. Research by platform Tylt found 84pc of millennials would rather find love “in real life” than online.

Relationship therapist Dr Emily May agrees apps gamify the dating experience. “Users seek the thrill of the game over meaningful connection. The endless options result in people being less likely to form meaningful relationships. They’re always thinking there might be something better. It can also lead to overcomparing each partner to others you could be swiping on, leading to feelings of discontent.”

Andy decided to confront his addiction to dating apps in 2020. Throughout the pandemic he found himself compulsively reaching for his phone just to swipe. “I just thought, ‘this sucks’,” he says. “Therapy did help me cut back, but it’s mindfulness that has really helped.

“When I do a yoga session, I don’t even think about swiping.”

It cannot be denied that dating apps have helped some people find love: a study by Currys last year found Tinder had a 16.5pc success rate when it came to finding a partner.

Elsewhere, Bumble boasted a 5.75pc match rate, with Hinge behind on 4.08pc.

While her first dating app relationship came to nothing, Genevieve found her Mr Right after a break from apps. After matching on an app during the pandemic, she spoke to her partner for several months before meeting him in person. Nearly four years on, they’re now engaged.

“Apps aren’t inherently bad,” she says. “At their core, they do help you meet more people than you would otherwise, which means that you’re more likely to meet the right person. You can end up treating the apps like a numbers game: you think the more I do this, the more likely I am to find that person. But that’s not how love works − ultimately, it’s just random.” (© Telegraph Media Group Ltd 2024)

“Users seek the thrill of the game over meaningful connection” Relationship therapist Emily May