One of the men I matched with told me I was teasing men. My offense was swiping right on everyone—the method he had just told me he used himself. Apparently, the same thumb movement required a different explanation when I did it.
I’m 52, and I had decided to try a little experiment on Match and Tinder. I made a new profile on each, using the same truthful information, pictures and details. Then I waited 48 hours for the first wave of likes to settle. I wasn’t testing whether a different photo would work. I wanted to change what I did with the pile that arrived.
Usually, I read every profile before deciding. I look for details, certain words, relationship status—the things that might tell me whether this is a man I’d actually like to meet. That takes time. A large stack of likes is flattering in theory. In practice, someone still has to read it.
This time, I swiped right on every profile that came up. I waited until we matched to read his information. If I wasn’t interested after reading it, I unmatched straightaway, before he had to spend time talking to me. The screening still happened. I had simply moved it to the other side of the match.
I started conversations with a few of the men and asked whether they swiped right on everyone. They said they did. So I told them I had done the same. This was where a fairly ordinary conversation about dating apps became a discussion of my responsibilities.
Nearly all of them objected in one way or another. A woman’s right swipe, they told me, was supposed to be attentive and intentional. Mine was meant to carry consideration. Theirs could apparently be sent out in bulk. I hadn’t realized we were using different versions of the same button.
Their explanation was that men needed to swipe that way to get any attention. I understood the frustration they were describing. What I didn’t understand was why dealing with it required me to do all the careful reading before they did theirs. When I pointed out that they used the same method, they said that was just how men were.
I suggested that women facing hundreds of likes might have a reason to change the order, too. Otherwise, plenty of men would stay in the backlog without ever being seen. Reading after a match meant I could consider more of them, not that I had promised to be interested in every one. With one exception, the men I spoke to still preferred women to move slowly and make the considered choices.
The conversations left me thinking about the complaints I see from men who feel they have no say on the apps. I had given myself less work at the beginning and spoken to more matches. Somehow, this had not been received as a helpful contribution to the system.
I brought it up with the man I went on a first date with last night. He was offended, too. He didn’t like being a routine right swipe, even though it had led to an actual date. He felt entitled to use that approach with women, but didn’t think it worked the other way around. There won’t be a second date.
