Tinder Is So 2015. Where Does It Go From Here?
I still remember the first time I tried Tinder. A few years back, two of my friends and I were on a road trip to Yosemite National Park. After a day’s worth of winding roads and endless pine trees, we ended up in a shabby motel – the kind of place where the neon “VACANCY” sign hums louder than any nightlife for miles around. The nearest bar was half an hour away, so we were basically stranded in our room, watching terrible TV and swapping old breakup stories while slamming shots of tequila.
Then, in that half-joking, half-bored way, someone said, “Hey, let's pull up Tinder – who knows, maybe we’ll match with some adventurous gal trio around here?” We all cackled at the possibility: really, matching with someone in this middle-of-nowhere spot? But curiosity won out. We downloaded the app, set our mile radius to a ridiculous stretch, and started swiping.
It turned into a giddy frenzy – three of us squeezed onto a creaky motel bed, eyes glued to the phone, swiping left, swiping right, occasionally shrieking if someone halfway decent popped up. The motel’s Wi-Fi was spotty, which only made it more dramatic: every new profile took a moment to load, like pulling a slot machine lever. By 2am, it didn’t matter that not a single local was around our age; we were hooked on that next face popping up on the screen. It was addictive, almost laughably so, and we ended up crashing after an all-night Tinder binge with zero real-world matches – but a weird sense of thrill lingered anyway.
That was 2016. Now, nearly a decade after the first Tinder boom, it seems the honeymoon phase is over for many users. Like my Yosemite swiping spree, the excitement eventually wore off. For every thrilling “It’s a Match!” or all-night group swipe session, there were countless chats that fizzled into ghosting, or no chat at all. We’ve collectively realized that, while dating apps opened new doors, they also created plenty of new frustrations. Today, usage has plateaued, stocks have dropped, and many people find themselves asking: Is there a better way?
I believe AI – well you guessed it – will probably upend the landscape here too. Over the past year, the biggest names in online dating have begun pointing to it as their next big move. Could it reignite a faltering industry? Could we be headed toward a future straight out of Her, where some of us might just fall in love with the technology itself?
The Rise of Online Dating: From Match.com to Tinder
Online dating has come a long way from the dial-up days of the 1990s. The first modern dating site, Match.com, launched in 1995 and introduced the radical idea that you could find a partner on the internet. It started with extensive questionnaires and matchmaking algorithms, attracting 100,000 users in its first six months. By the late ‘90s, Match.com was sold for $7 million, then to IAC for $50 million in 1999 – an early sign of the industry’s potential. The early 2000s brought eHarmony (founded 2000) with its famous “32 dimensions of compatibility” quiz, and free sites like Plenty of Fish (2003) and OkCupid (2004), which broadened access to online matchmaking.
Still, the real tectonic shift came with smartphones. In 2012, Tinder launched and rewired the dating game with its simple swipe interface. For the first time, singles could browse hundreds of nearby prospects with a flick of a finger – yes, no, yes, no – an experience so novel and efficient it exploded in popularity. Tinder’s signature “swipe right to like, left to pass” mechanic introduced a gamification element that kept users glued to their screens. As Tinder co-founder Jonathan Badeen put it, “It kinda works like a slot machine. You’re excited to see who the next person is... it’s a nice little rush,” referring to the anticipation each swipe brings. That “little rush” is literally addictive – swiping triggers the brain’s reward circuitry by releasing dopamine, much like a slot machine or a hit of a drug, conditioning users to swipe endlessly even without meeting anyone. Tinder’s viral growth was unprecedented; by mid-2010s, people were swiping everywhere – in coffee lines, on the toilet, even during an actual in-person date.
Other apps quickly followed with their own twists. Hinge, also founded in 2012, billed itself as the app “designed to be deleted,” focusing on detailed profiles and an algorithm to find “most compatible” matches for users seeking relationships. Bumble, launched in 2014 by Tinder alum Whitney Wolfe Herd, kept the swipe but flipped the script by requiring women to message first in heterosexual matches – a “feminist dating app” approach that proved hugely popular. By combining Tinder’s fast swipe with a women-first ethos, Bumble quickly became the #2 dating app in the U.S. (behind Tinder) and a billion-dollar company in its own right.
These success stories did more than generate revenue; they normalized online dating. Meeting a partner through an app lost much of its stigma as the user base grew. According to Match Group (which now owns Tinder, Hinge, OkCupid, and more), 40% of all new relationships in the U.S. begin online, and about one-third of marriages start on a dating app. Academic research backs this trend: by the late 2010s, online surpassed friends and family as the top way Americans met their partners. In sheer numbers, Tinder alone boasted 75 million monthly active users and 10 million subscribers by 2022. The industry’s growth seemed unstoppable – and the big players enjoyed near ubiquity among young singles. Roughly half of 18-29 year-olds in the U.S. have used a dating app, and dating apps have become a $7+ billion global market, projected to reach $9.2 billion by 2025.
Many people swipe for the feeling it gives, rather than as a means to an end.
The psychology of swiping played a key role in this boom. Dating apps capitalized on fundamental human reward mechanisms. The quick profile photos and “match” animations gave instant feedback, while the endless scrolling created a “variable ratio” reward schedule – you never know when the next swipe might yield a great match, so you keep playing. This can lead to compulsive use: one study found users spent an average of 10 hours a week on dating apps, and a 2017 survey found over 70% of Tinder users had never even met a match in person, with 44% admitting they used the app mainly for “confidence-boosting procrastination.” In other words, many people swipe for the feeling it gives, rather than as a means to an end. It’s no surprise some critics have asked pointedly whether dating apps are designed to help us find relationships, or to keep us hooked on the apps themselves. The swipe era dramatically expanded our dating pool and made meeting new people as easy as tapping on a screen – but it also subtly changed the psychology of dating, introducing new dilemmas alongside new opportunities.
Swiping Left on Diminishing Returns
After a decade of rapid growth, the online dating frenzy has started to plateau. User growth and engagement on the big platforms have slowed, and cracks are showing in the swipe model. By the mid-2020s, many users express dissatisfaction with the status quo of superficial swiping and ghosted conversations. In a Pew Research survey, Americans who had used a dating app in the past year were far more likely to report feeling “frustrated” (45%) than “hopeful” (28%) about the experience. Anecdotally, terms like “swipe fatigue” and “dating app burnout” have entered the lexicon as singles grow weary of endless browsing that yields few real connections.
The numbers confirm the fatigue. Match Group – which owns Tinder, Hinge, OkCupid and others – has seen its flagship app Tinder stagnate and even decline by some metrics. In late 2024, Match Group reported that total paying users across its apps had dropped 3% year-over-year to 15.2 million, marking the eighth straight quarter of decline in subscribers. Tinder remains the most-used dating app in the US, commanding about 36% of monthly active users, but even Tinder’s user base has stopped growing. Rival apps Bumble and Hinge collectively make up a similar share (22% each of US users), suggesting the market for dating apps is saturated among those willing to use them. Bumble, despite its early success, has hit headwinds too – the company’s stock has plunged nearly 90% from its 2021 IPO peak amid investor concerns about “dating app user fatigue” and slowing growth. In fact, Bumble saw a recent drop in paying users and had to cut 30% of its staff to reinvent its app.
One core issue is monetization and retention. Dating apps notoriously struggle with a paradox: if they succeed (and you find a partner), you leave the app; if they fail, you eventually churn out of frustration. Either way, user churn is high. The apps have responded by layering on paid features – from Tinder’s “Boosts” and “Super Likes” to subscription tiers like Tinder Gold/Platinum or Bumble Premium – but many users are reluctant to pay for what often still feels like a subpar experience. Surveys show that a majority of online daters believe dating apps routinely involve dishonesty (71% think people lie on profiles) and harassment is common (especially among women). And while these apps greatly expanded our options, they’ve been criticized for encouraging superficial judgments – flipping through photos fosters a “shopping” mentality that can reduce people to commodities.
All this has led to consumer dissatisfaction with current models. In addition to feeling frustrated, many users report loneliness after using dating apps – more than half of singles feel lonely after swiping, perhaps because the process emphasizes screens over in-person interaction. Genuine connections often prove elusive in the sea of options; paradoxically, having too many choices can lead to decision paralysis or a habit of always looking for the next best match. It’s telling that even the most “relationship-focused” apps feel the pressure: Hinge’s slogan is “designed to be deleted,” yet it’s now one of Match Group’s fastest-growing properties precisely because frustrated Tinder users flock to it seeking something more substantial. The industry appears to be hitting the limit of how many swipes and superficial matches it can serve up before users crave a different approach. Growth is stalling, and simply throwing more profile cards into the deck isn’t rekindling the spark.
AI: A Smarter Cupid for Better Matches?
Faced with these challenges, dating apps are pinning their hopes on AI to breathe new life into online romance. The idea is that AI can inject new intelligence and personalization into a process that’s grown stale. Instead of leaving it all to the blind swipe, AI promises to curate better matches, coach users, and even simulate aspects of dating – potentially fixing pain points like low-quality matches, awkward conversation, and ghosting.
AI-driven Matchmaking
The holy grail for dating apps is finding the right person for you out of millions of profiles. Traditionally, apps relied on simple filters (age, distance) or user behavior (swipe patterns) to suggest matches. AI can turbocharge this by analyzing vast amounts of data about your preferences, personality, and interactions. For example, Match Group recently announced plans to integrate new AI matching features across Tinder, Hinge, and its other apps. One concept is an AI that can actually explain why it recommended a particular match, highlighting compatible traits – like a friend playing matchmaker.
Building on the success of long questionnaires (like eHarmony’s model) and modern machine learning, AI matchmaking aims to move from just more matches to more meaningful matches. It could factor in things humans might miss – subtle compatibility cues in how you write or what you like, for example. Some startups claim to use AI vision to learn your “type” based on which photos you swipe right (controversial if it becomes looks-based matching). Others might analyze communication styles: is your humor dry, does a prospective match respond in kind? The goal is a personalized algorithmic matchmaker that goes beyond surface-level traits. Sean Rad, Tinder’s founder, described a vision where “Tinder is so good at predicting the few people you’re interested in… [it] does a lot of the legwork in organizing a date” – even suggesting a time and place for two highly compatible people to meet. In his imagined scenario, you might one day open an app and be greeted by a virtual assistant saying: “There’s someone down the street you’ll find very attractive, you have a lot in common, and you’re both free Thursday – shall I set up a date?”
AI as a Dating Coach and Conversation Starter
Another role for AI is helping users put their best foot forward and navigate the tricky early stages of communication. Crafting a profile or sending the first message can be daunting – and many people don’t do themselves justice. To tackle this, apps are introducing AI-powered coaching tools. Hinge, for instance, launched a new Prompt Feedback feature in 2025 that uses AI to review your profile answers and give constructive feedback. If you answer a prompt with something cliche or too short, the AI might nudge you to “go a little deeper” or add detail. Importantly, Hinge says the AI won’t rewrite for you (avoiding copy-paste sameness), but it will point out where you could be more specific or authentic. Early research by Hinge found profiles with richer prompt answers get significantly more interest – likes on text prompts were 47% more likely to lead to a date than likes on just photos, so this coaching can translate into better outcomes.
AI can also help with that awkward opening message or date planning. Tinder’s parent company indicated they’re exploring how AI might suggest conversation starters and even date ideas to users, to reduce ghosting and spark more meaningful chats. Imagine matching with someone and having an AI whisper in your ear: “Ask about that rock climbing photo,” or “Suggest that new pizzeria downtown.” In fact, many users aren’t waiting for the apps – a recent survey found 20% of men aged 25-35 have used AI tools like ChatGPT to help craft their dating messages. Rather than receiving a dull “hey,” a match might get a witty question that an AI helped generate. While this raises questions of authenticity (more on that later), it’s easy to see the appeal of an AI wingman that boosts your banter game.
Simulated and Virtual Dating Experiences
Before meeting in person, what if you could have a dry run or a safe preview of your chemistry? AI is enabling simulated dating scenarios that let people connect in novel ways. One example is the emergence of VR dating platforms. Apps like Planet Theta are building VR worlds where you and a match can interact as avatars on a virtual “microdate.” Backed by AI matchmaking, these VR dates aim to put “human connection at the forefront of dating again” by letting users actually talk and explore an environment together, rather than just texting. This concept got a boost during the pandemic (when apps like Tinder introduced video chat and virtual dates), and it’s likely to evolve with AR/VR tech. In 5-10 years, first dates might happen via VR headsets – perhaps a romantic moonlit stroll on a virtual beach – before you ever meet physically.
Even outside of VR, AI can simulate aspects of dating. Some services are developing AI chatbot “dates” where you can practice flirting or work on social skills with an AI avatar before trying the real thing. There are AI dating simulators (like the app Blush by the makers of Replika) that let you role-play relationship scenarios, functioning like training wheels for romance. Looking further ahead, futurists predict AI could organize virtual double dates, where an AI representing you interacts with an AI representing your match first – essentially algorithms testing the waters to see if you’d click – then briefs you on how it went. I know it sounds pretty wild and this level of simulation probably won't hit mainstream apps anytime soon, but the pieces seem to be falling into place. As weird as they sound, simulated dates definitely offer a kind of safety net for those weary of ghosting and uncertainty.
AI-Powered Insights into Relationships
Beyond initial matchmaking, AI might also help nurture relationships by analyzing behavioral patterns. Dating apps sit on mountains of data about how people communicate – who sends the first message, response times, length of conversations, even tone and sentiment. By crunching this data, AI could give users personalized advice. For example, an app might detect that your exchanges fizzle out after a day and suggest strategies to keep momentum (“try asking a deeper question”). Or if two people are messaging a lot, an AI might encourage them to set a date. Another emerging idea is using AI for relationship insights once you start dating someone: the app could periodically check in and, say, flag if one person seems consistently unhappy or if communication is dropping off.
Crucially, the big dating companies are actively investing in these AI features as a way to combat stagnation. “We expect to see tangible improvement as Tinder’s new features roll out,” Match Group’s CEO said, referring to upcoming AI-driven tools. Tinder’s product chief has teased features like AI photo selection, where the app’s AI sifts through your gallery and picks the best pictures to showcase. Meanwhile, Hinge’s parent company is betting on AI features to keep Hinge’s rapid growth going. Even the more traditional platforms like eHarmony claims its AI algorithms have improved compatibility predictions by over 60%. The dating industry is clearly hoping that smarter tech will solve what more profiles and more swipes have not.
Looking Ahead...
As AI becomes intertwined with dating, we can imagine some radical shifts on the horizon. Here are a few scenarios – some imminent, some more speculative – of how AI might reshape the way we find and experience romantic connections.
AI Matchmaking Replaces the Swipe
We may finally see the end of the swipe-as-we-know-it. You might open an app and be greeted by an AI assistant who says, “We’ve lined up two matches for you today that we think you’ll really connect with – one shares your love of heavy metal, the other has those same niche kinks you have.” Over time, as the AI learns from your feedback, its recommendations sharpen. This could mitigate the “paradox of choice”, removing the aimless scroll in favor of curated introductions. Yes, it’s a big shift, but for the countless folks bored with the infinite deck, it might be a relief.
Jason Parham
Relationships with AI Companions Become Mainstream
On a more provocative note, the future of “dating” might not always involve two humans. We’ve already seen the rise of AI partners via Replika and Character.AI, with users forming deep emotional bonds. Some people might choose AI companions because they offer endless affirmation and avoid the messiness of real relationships. Others worry this could isolate people or create unrealistic expectations. Still, as AI personalities grow more sophisticated, it’s entirely possible a subset of the population will prefer digital romances.
VR and the Metaverse of Dating
We could see a full-fledged metaverse for dating – large platforms or entire sections of VR worlds dedicated to meeting others via avatars. AR/VR adoption may let you attend virtual matchmaking events or hang out in digital lounges before deciding if you want to meet in person. Distance might become irrelevant, letting you “date” someone across the globe in a stylized VR Paris or Seoul. If it all sounds too futuristic, remember that video-chat first dates were once novel, too – until the pandemic made them commonplace.
The AI-First Dating App of Tomorrow
When you tie all these threads together, you get a radically different experience. Perhaps you’ll have a long onboarding conversation with an AI counselor that learns about your values and communication style in detail, then schedules VR hangouts, group outings, or curated 1:1 chats with matches it thinks you’ll like. Meanwhile, background checks, ID verification, cross-cultural translation, and harassment monitoring could be automated by AI – making the space safer and more global. In such a world, “we met on Tinder” might be replaced by “my AI introduced us,” while swiping itself becomes obsolete.
AI, Dating, and Our Changing Behaviors
As AI continues to seep into every layer of the dating world – from matchmaking algorithms to virtual double dates – the conversation extends far beyond convenience and novelty. And this new era will inevitably bring both groundbreaking opportunities and heavy responsibilities.
The Times reporter reveals his use of AI to his real dates. It didn't go well.
In the near term, we’ll likely see a flurry of innovation as big industry players roll out AI-driven features to reclaim lost growth. Match Group has already teased premium tiers that leverage AI insights, and Bumble is revamping its platform to remain relevant amidst “dating fatigue.” But the real game-changer could come from smaller, more agile startups. With AI reducing the reliance on massive user bases, newcomers can build hyper-focused experiences – like specialized matchmakers for career-driven singles or communities centered on specific hobbies. This fragmentation means more consumers will gravitate toward platforms that truly align with their values and lifestyles.
Of course, trust and transparency will be key. Dating apps handle some of our most personal data, and consumers won’t adopt AI-powered matchmaking if they fear their emotional baggage or intimate preferences might be misused. We’re already witnessing heated debates about how AI might perpetuate biases, rank users unfairly, or infringe on privacy. Going forward, top-performing apps may be those that not only deliver better matches but also demonstrate rock-solid data ethics and safeguards. Users expect and deserve to know why they’re being matched, how algorithms filter potential partners, and what data is being collected behind the scenes.
“I am philosophically very anti-AI,” Tomás told me. “Part of relationship building—be it sexual, romantic, platonic—involves dealing with friction. I think the more organic approach is to not have AI involved.” ⓒWired
Then there’s the question of emotional well-being. If an AI suggests you tweak your photos or praises your witty profile, how does that affect your self-esteem? Is it a helpful nudge toward authenticity, or a hyper-optimized feedback loop that fosters insecurity? A move toward gentle, empathetic AI coaching – one that encourages self-discovery rather than harsh critiques – could become a selling point. Already, some industry insiders predict that in-app relationship guidance (post-match) will become the norm, with AI stepping in to suggest conversation topics, date ideas, and respectful approaches to conflict. Some will embrace this digital co-pilot, while others might chafe at a machine’s intrusion into their romantic life.
Asia Grace
At some point, AI will venture into territory traditionally reserved for human judgment (or therapists).
Further out on the horizon, we’ll see consumer behaviors evolving in ways that may feel radical today. Paying for results – not just more Super Likes – might become mainstream. If apps confidently promise “85% chance you’ll connect with someone who shares your passion for Dark Fantasy films and your obsession with Italian food,” many users might be willing to pay a premium for that level of specificity. Meanwhile, other users might bypass human dating altogether, opting for advanced AI companions that deliver unwavering emotional support. That prospect raises society-wide questions: could an entire demographic choose digital relationships over human ones, fundamentally altering how we view partnership and intimacy?
We should also expect the in-person element to transform. Picture a future where an AI tracks your progress with a match, notices your mutual love of hiking, and spontaneously arranges a group trek in a local nature preserve (or a VR counterpart, for long-distance matches). Dating could shift from a swiping treadmill to a curated series of shared experiences. It’s not impossible to imagine a scenario where the “date” itself – virtual or physical – becomes the primary product, with platforms monetizing event-driven meetups more than simple matches. In short, the user journey will expand from “find someone, chat, and maybe meet” to a broader suite of guided experiences powered by AI’s continuous feedback loop.
Arielle Domb
Though not necessarily AI-driven, we're already seeing the shift to activity-centric dating.
And yet, even as we stand on the cusp of these changes, one core truth remains.
Love – that messy, exhilarating, unquantifiable experience – cannot be entirely reduced to code and data points.
AI might speed the process, refine our choices, or offer empathic nudges, but the spontaneity of human connection will never be fully automated. If anything, the pressure on AI to be a genuine force for good relationships (not just short-term profits) will intensify. Platforms that deliver real, lasting bonds – augmented by technology but steeped in honest human interaction – are the ones most likely to win hearts (and market share).
Ultimately, the future of dating will be shaped by how gracefully we blend AI’s efficiency with human vulnerability. If done right, AI won’t replace the unique thrill of meeting someone special; it’ll simply help us navigate the noisy swiping chaos and superficial encounters that have weighed down the industry. Whether it’s VR microdates, algorithmic matchmakers, or yes, even AI companions, what matters is how these tools serve our deeper need for connection. After all, despite all the leaps in tech, the end goal remains what it’s always been: to find someone worth putting the phone down for – and never needing to download another dating app again.
Even without knowing it's Scarlett Johansson voicing the AI, this scene hits pretty hard.