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Download, run out, delete, repeat. Science shows that users of dating apps They follow a predictable and dangerous pattern. These are the signs that you are falling into the trap… and how to escape.
A 2024 study followed hundreds of dating app users for three months.
“Over time, we ended up finding that people who used dating apps experienced widespread burnout,” Sharabi says.
This dynamic makes sense. If you’re stuck on the app, it means you haven’t found what you’re looking for, unless you just want one-night stands.
But the experience was much more serious than simple frustration.
The word “burnout” is used so often that it has begun to lose its meaning, although it has a more formal psychological definition.
The classic method of measuring burnout uses three categories: emotional exhaustion, cynicism (or depersonalization), and helplessness.
Scholars first described this phenomenon in high-pressure work environments, but research has extended it to other areas of life. According to Sharabi, it can be seen in people looking for a partner online.
Emotional exhaustion is simple: If swiping leaves you unmotivated, defeated, and tired, that could be a sign of burnout.
You’re experiencing cynicism and depersonalization when profiles start to blur into one another, Sharabi says, and interactions stop seeming human.
Helplessness, in this context, is the growing conviction that nothing you do in the app is going to work, either because you are bad at it or because there is something wrong with you.
“I started the app with the intention of being respectful because, at the end of the day, we are all human beings,” says Madeleine D, who works in marketing for a technology company and also asked that her full name not be revealed.
“But the more time I spent on it, the more blind I became to it, like I didn’t really care about those people. I hated that about myself, because the only thing I had promised myself was that, at the very least, I would show decency and respect.”
It’s easy to dismiss this as the predictable complaints of twenty-something singles. Dating is hard and bars aren’t that great either.
But research suggests something more serious.
Sharabi led a recent meta-analysis that compiled 17 years of studies covering about 26,000 people.
The study revealed that dating app users had significantly worse mental health than non-users, including depression, anxiety, emotional dysregulation, loneliness and psychological distress.
These issues hit hardest among people who joined dating apps in a more vulnerable state from the start.
Sharabi warns that, in theory, the apps are a lifeline for people who have the most difficulty with dating: those whose mental health problems make meeting partners in person more difficult.
But Sharabi found that those users were the most likely to suffer burnout and fall into that state more quickly.
“Those people tended to be especially vulnerable,” Sharabi says. “This basically exacerbated some of the pre-existing difficulties they were already facing.”
The dating app industry doesn’t want its users to suffer burnout.
“As society and the needs of matchmakers evolve, we remain committed to helping people make meaningful connections and turn those connections into great dates,” a Hinge company spokesperson told the BBC.
Hinge claims that the app is designed to stay in the background of your life and the company is focused on using user feedback to improve the experience.
“Dating has always been complicated and I think it’s very easy to blame technology,” Sharabi says.
At the same time, he believes the apps amplify suffering in specific ways.
One of those ways is gamification. Dating apps rely on quick gestures and inconsistent rewards.
Many complain that the structure is more like a slot machine than courtship and users can get stuck pulling the lever long after the fun has worn off.
“Swiping gives you a rush,” says Karen Cornejo, an office manager in Los Angeles. “And then everything else just doesn’t.”
By the time a couple actually wants to meet up, the excitement has already worn off. “I’m not even interested anymore,” Cornejo says. This process leaves her discouraged.
Dallas Koelling, a writer and comedian from Brooklyn who has been on and off a couple of apps for years, puts it bluntly: “Getting a notification that you’ve liked me on Hinge is like having a gun pointed at you.”
Then there is the hidden work. “If you lived in, say, Shakespeare’s England, you might never meet as many people as you see in a single day swiping on Hinge,” Koelling says.
Dating apps dramatically expand the range of potential partners. In fact, that’s what makes them great, but abundance can turn dating into a job.
“It’s like a second full-time job that I have to do on my lunch break or after work,” warns Madeleine.
“I don’t want to be glued to my cell phone. And when it comes to social media, I’ve gotten a lot better at putting it aside,” she says. “But with dating, there’s that feeling that the next person you swipe on might be the one you end up marrying.”
“There is infinite hope that dating apps seem to take advantage of.”
The endless sea of faces also contributes to the feeling of exhaustion, Sharabi says, especially since a profile only provides information up to a point.
“You get stuck in an endless cycle of profiles, dead-end conversations, and dead-end dates, and then you’re back to square one.”
Furthermore, structural tension is difficult to ignore. Dating apps really want users to find a partner. We would all stop using them if that never happened.
But they’re also a business, one that makes almost all of its revenue from subscriptions and paid features, which means they lose money if people abandon them.
For years, dating app users have told me that they feel manipulated, and that the apps hold back the best matches and exploit their emotions to keep them tapping and swiping.
Dating app companies strongly deny this. But the algorithms that control them remain a mystery.
In 2024, a class-action lawsuit accused Match Group, the giant conglomerate that owns Tinder, Hinge and many other popular dating apps, of designing its apps to be addictive and profiting from compulsive use rather than helping people find a partner.
Match Group dismissed the allegations as “ridiculous.” The case was then referred to arbitration. The company did not respond to a request for comment.
“The vast majority of our work is focused on improving the free experience on Hinge, as less than 15% of our community uses paid features,” says a Hinge spokesperson.
“Ultimately, our success depends on people having positive experiences on the app, meeting someone special, and ultimately recommending Hinge to others.”
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