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Opinion: The “testostero-nomenon” coursing through Toronto dating apps

Do dating apps fail society or does society fail dating apps? Either way, I wouldn’t go back

A graphic showing an iPhone with dating apps and a text bubble with a broken heart
(John Vo/CanCulture Magazine)

By Liana Yadav

Who hasn’t tried a dating app?

Most of us have. In a chronically online world, meeting new people is a job you don’t want to pick up on top of your two other ones. I am not claiming that meeting someone in the real world is out of sorts. It always has and will continue to happen but the meaning of “dating” has changed course. From traits that can easily be labelled as “red flags” to situationships that are one “ick” away from being dissolved, dating has become a complex ballgame and all its nuances exist in the digital world.

But it’s not all black and white, and dating apps may not necessarily be creating problems in our society as much as they are highlighting them. As a woman of colour in my early 20s living in a diverse and modern city, I have had my fair share of interesting experiences with the apps. And I want to share them because that’s how they say pain gets smaller. 

People say there is something wrong with the men in Toronto, but having lived in other cities before, I am starting to think the problem may just be with men. It’s not their personalities — although many times, it is — it is their skewed perception of dating in this modern age that I have a problem with. To sum up the bad dates I have been on, I will now proceed to list all the elements that have been a point of contention across my dates through the apps. Each time, without fail.

The Plan

If I had a dollar for every time a man jokes about being a serial killer or harvesting my organs before a first date, I would not have to go to university. “Haha, now let’s hope I am not like Joe from You.” It is a common ice breaker and, sure, I can be edgy, so I often respond with a statistic about female serial killers in the country. We both get a good laugh out of it and move on. But I don’t think the men understand that this is genuinely a very real fear I have every time I go out with someone I have met online. 

That is why my location is always shared with friends and I suggest meeting at a public place I am familiar with. I never leave my drink unattended. I make a mental note of the exit points in the restaurant. I do these things because the statistics are stacked against my favour and any reasonable person would understand that. 

Intimate partner violence is one of the most common forms of gender-based violence in Canada. Over 44 per cent of women in intimate relationships with men say that they experienced either verbal, psychological or physical abuse at their hands, according to Statistics Canada

So tell me why men obliviously suggest meeting at their place for the first time or get offended when I say I don’t want them to pick me up because I would rather they not know where I live. “You’re too paranoid, I am not like those guys.”

The Facade

Most dating apps require you to reveal information such as your age, height, religious beliefs, political inclinations, whether you drink, smoke, etc. Some of these can matter to you, some may not. For instance, a zodiac sign may not be an ice breaker for me (although I fear that another Libra man might shake the remaining will to date I have left), but political leanings can be.

Either way, there is always an element of surface-level trust placed on the profile you’re looking at in that they are telling the truth about these preferences and facts. “Well, sure, I lean liberal but I think Trump does have some interesting things to say.” The same date had pictures of walking the Women’s March on his profile. It is easy to pretend to offer something you don’t have but it is not sustainable in the long run. Dating apps may let you get away with it but real life, where actual dating happens, won’t.

The Bill

So now that I have spent the entire date listening to a secret Andrew Tate enthusiast go on and on about his summer trip to Europe and the promising state of his financial portfolio, I am thrilled when the bill arrives. Him? Not so much. The bill holds within it not just the price we both pay for each other’s company but also the heavy weight of patriarchy on both our shoulders. 

The “testostero-nomenon” led by podcaster men has made him passionate about standing up to women whose secret quest is to bleed their date’s wallet dry. He is now part of a revolution of men who have decided they are sick of being providers, they want to be riders. 

Their engorged egos and flailing senses of self are awash with the delusion that the irrationality of women wanting equal treatment and opportunities deserves to be punished with their demands thrown back at their faces maliciously. We split the bill because Swipe No. 4 is no “beta” man — he bows down to no one, much less a woman. I return home and make myself a bowl of ramen that I eat while watching Love is Blind, ridiculing the people who sign up for this nonsense every year.

The Amplification of Personal Issues

The rules of conduct in dating apps are blurry. Too much interest and you’re too eager. Too many dates and you don’t know what you’re looking for, not enough and you are failing on the apps. Prompts have to be witty and interesting but still a true reflection of you and all your pictures with friends have to be meticulously chosen so you look like the most attractive one. Texting too often is a red flag, taking too long to respond is an even red-der flag. 

Fitting myself into a collection of pictures, prompts and texts that check all these undefined boxes is a sure-shot path to low self-esteem. It is easy to feel like you’re doing something wrong when all you get out of the apps are dates that go badly despite you putting your best foot forward.

General consensus attributes dating app problems specifically to the kind of people in Toronto. This Reddit thread points out that in a city as busy and expensive as Toronto, dating becomes a money game. Men don’t want to spend the extra buck if they don’t feel the confidence that they aren’t being taken advantage of and women don’t want to risk their safety and waste their time on yet another dud who operates still in the 19th century.

Who Do We Blame?

The bleakness of dating apps is not a reality lost on its users. For many of us, it becomes an option when it seems to be our only connection with the possibility of dating in a digital age. But is it fair to blame technology for the death of organic dating in our society? 

The truth is that in many ways even outside of technology, society seems to be on the brink of ruin. Dating apps shine a light on society’s ugliest racism, sexism and classism. But while it may not be creating these issues, I do think it adds to them. I know many people who have started to detest dating because of the apps, but I wonder if that is a conclusion we would have arrived at regardless of the apps. 

But even though the problems persist in and outside of technology, the ability to hide behind a screen enables many people to say things they would never dare to say in the real world. When I take the date out of an app to a real-life restaurant, I often struggle to connect with someone who I only met because of the structure of an ambiguous algorithm. This problem is only made worse when dating app culture makes it so easy to ghost. 

This use-and-throw form of dating enables the worst kind of daters, including those who are dangerous, and danger can come in many forms. With psychological and verbal abuse common in relationships, I feel compelled to question what it is about the male psyche that causes it. 

This is probably why single mixers and speed dating events have gained popularity in Toronto. This article in the Toronto Star follows writer Layla Ahmad as she embarks on a singles dating cruise mixer organized by a company called Thursday. She notes that most men in this event have come on their own, and the more she tries to connect with them, the harder it gets to avoid awkward confrontations with men she had already spoken to and “swiped left,” so to say.

Conditioning and Conformism

Men are reared to be strong and reliable. This enormous pressure stands between them and their emotional development. Psychologist Assael Romanelli says that men suffer an emotional anesthetization as they grow older and gain a social understanding of their roles. This pressure is intense and I can imagine the damage it can inflict on a young psyche. What makes it worse is that when being leaders, men’s emotional incapabilities render them less likely to understand the world around them. Men in power are known to abuse it and act with a cruel lack of empathy for their subordinates, often hurting them physically and avoiding consequences. The Canadian Women’s Foundation points out that Indigenous women are seven times more likely to be killed than non-Indigenous women; women with a disability are three times more likely to be a victim of violence compared to able-bodied women; queer women are three to four times more likely to report abuse than heterosexual women. 

Vulnerable groups are at greater risk because the men in their surroundings hold even higher power over them. This abuse is the action of a boy whose emotional capacities were damaged before they could mature, says Romanelli. I find this knowledge both powerful and meaningless. 

I want to empathize with men because the social meaning attached to gender is not of their making. Or at least not the fault of the particular men I interact with on these dates. In fact, I feel that we are both suffering at the hands of the patriarchy. I do not wish to partake in the unjust behaviour that perpetuates these damaging beliefs because I realize — see, that’s the difference — the power of social conditioning. But men don’t, not in similar ways. 

The ethics code is different for men and women and both act according to it. For women, a prime concern is the well-being and happiness of others. For men, the prime concern is to receive approval for their masculinity.

In his book “Hidden in Plain Sight”, therapist Avrum Weiss talks about the fear men have of women, which is that of disappointing them. “Happy wife, happy life” is not so much a joke as a cry for help, I suppose. Men are so contorted to their masculinity that to avoid confronting their wives about their emotions and communicating through conflict, they go to great lengths to make their wives happy superficially. Buying her gifts and flowers, exhibitions of love which are easier to flaunt. 

But my question is this — do men know this? No, mostly. Their acute lack of awareness is one of the most frustrating things about dating them. I do not want to possess this knowledge of my gendered existence but damn it, if I have to so should he. Why are women more interested in dismantling the patriarchy than men when it harms us both severely? I want to make men my allies and I want them to feel like we are theirs. But there is a divide of social understanding, a bridge that try as I might, I cannot cross. 

I promise this is not what I talk about on my failed dates. 

A Life Without The Apps

And so it becomes a treacherous pattern of downloading the app and deleting it after giving up, before doing the same thing again cyclically every few months. Personally, I have been off the apps for almost a year and have given my friends the liberty to delete the app themselves if they ever see it on my phone. 

Unfortunately, deleting the apps is not enough of a sacrifice to avoid the “testostero-nomenon” coursing through modern society. It shows up in other ways I cannot escape. Yesterday, I watched three men cheat and lie to their partners after proposing to marry them. Okay, not so much as watched as seek out the knowledge voluntarily by clicking play on Love is Blind

I feel more attached to the real world when I am off the apps. More cognizant of the fact that as much as me being a woman is a performance for the male gaze, I still get to take ownership of my will and actions and set boundaries for myself. I get to exercise my independence and maintain other meaningful connections that add value to my life in ways romantic love, especially with the wrong person, cannot. I cherish the value of isolation and understanding the complexities of my own mind before I try to situate it in social contexts. For now, I am celebrating the beauty and treasure that is to be a young, independent, single woman. 


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