DEEP DIVE
How to Transition to a Third Generation of Online Dating Platforms
Strategies for app makers to build evolving dating platforms through thoughtful design and cultural awareness
Are dating apps stuck in an equilibrium that reinforces feelings of isolation rather than hope for meaningful connection? I do not know. It is possible what we have is the best we could ever do as far as smartphone matchmaking goes. But I argue before we give up, we must try a few principles.
The first generation of online dating platforms were websites like Match.com (1995) and OkCupid (2004). The second generation came with the advent of smartphones and AppStore (2008); Grinder launched the first location-based app in 2009. Tinder (2012) was the first app that could make the Grinder model work for heterosexual dating by introducing swiping. Hinge followed in 2013, attracting more serious daters. Since then, only a little has happened. , most of which are variations of Tinder that cater to a specific niche.
I would like to open the discussion that we need a third generation of dating platforms that not only expose us to new potential mates but are vehicles for shaping our fluid dating culture. This means looking at dating holistically, directly addressing dating culture, dating skills, types of first dates, rejections, mental health, dating etiquette, and social consequences of dating. I would also like to provide some ideas on how this transition could look.
Apps need more exploration in design to be good habitats on which attraction can begin and connections can grow. This habitat is not fertile if it sets a game with a single winning strategy to which everyone conforms. It is likewise not fertile if it results in monotone interactions based on set rules, treating humans as if they were probabilities to be maximized.
Audre Lorde talks about the erotic as a reminder of our capacity for feeling, the irreplaceable knowledge of our capacity for joy. It comes partly from sharing any pursuit with another person deeply
Instead, a suitable habitat encourages curiosity, allows for novel online and offline experiences, and empowers Erotic in this context is not sexual.
talks about the erotic as a reminder of our capacity for feeling, the irreplaceable knowledge of our capacity for joy. It comes partly from sharing any pursuit with another person deeply. The sharing of joy, whether physical, emotional, psychic, or intellectual, forms a bridge between the sharers, which can be the basis for understanding much of what is not shared between them.
So that is the big picture, but this is where the aspiration stops. If you join me, we will now go through all the hidden technical details of the dating app interface and how it is used to unwrap why it makes us feel isolated and how we can practically change this.
It is divided into three main sections: First, we’ll look at how familiar app features — like profiles, swipes, and chats — could stretch beyond their usual scripts to invite more depth and surprise. Next, we’ll shift the focus onto users themselves: How might we control our relationship with the apps to avoid frustration and welcome novelty? Finally, we’ll explore new tools and approaches that let apps become agents of change rather than static storefronts, pushing online dating into more fluid, open-ended territory. We can’t predict the exact future, but staying stuck is no option.
What dating apps get wrong
In this section, I delve into common problems that are a direct cause of the app design. Consider this a summary and reflection of a thousand dating app reviews on Google and Apple stores, Reddit forums on dating, YouTube/TikTok dating coaches, books, and papers on love and dating. Each of the five parts comes with a definition of the problem and suggested solutions.
1. When swiping is easy and talking hard, matches remain inactive
There is usually a big difference in emotional effort and meaning in swiping and writing to someone or making an appointment. You might swipe because you are trying to find a life partner. But have you never swiped because you were bored and just wanted to see some faces? Or perhaps you wanted to have a laugh with your friend? Or because you wanted to see who likes you back?
All custom text graphics created by Author in Canva.This might be okay for people who do not want to meet you. But to the few who are trying their best to fight loneliness, the number of growing potential matches who act like a wall is a big waste of time. It contributes to a lousy experience. There are many possibilities to reduce this gap in actions. Either you make swiping harder or make actions after swiping easier.
Making swiping harder: One way is limiting the number of swipes. Some apps promote active and responsive users by giving them more visibility. Another option is allowing people to filter options based on their level of responsiveness and intention. With current Large Language Model (LLM) capabilities, it is easy to categorize users into types such as “Seriously looking” or “Just Browsing.”
Making the next steps easier: Diversifying the possible actions after a match is a way of accommodating more personality types. Chatting need not be the only option; imagine scheduling an offline date without having to chat, as in the Breeze app, or having video calls and attending virtual events. Users could set availability status (e.g., “Available to Chat,” “Open to Meet This Week,” “Open to video call”), which would make approaching them easier. People could post beforehand the activities they are going on next week, which would become visible to their matches. This could serve as a prompt to meet by joining these activities. Apps could occasionally host events (possibly via a community) and let people know if some of their inactive matches would be attending so-and-so events.
2. The profile templates are too rigid
It feels like a dating CV: Pictures, bio, hobbies, and desired partner features. All useful information, but that is not how we have experienced attraction in the past generations or outside dating apps. The content is significantly more direct and goal-oriented than we are used to in the analog world. It is addressed to you, the potential partner.
Photos carry more nuance than we often admit. We label them as tools of attraction, but they also hint at your sense of humor, comfort level, and how you choose to present yourself. Maybe it’s the expression you wear or the way you pose, the objects you include, or your decision to avoid selfies altogether. Each choice reveals a subtle piece of who you are. Perhaps we turn to these images not because we’re shallow but because they echo the natural, layered signals we rely on in real life.
We need profiles that adapt and let you reveal different sides of yourself over time. Separate what the app needs for matchmaking from what people see. LLMs can pick up the trivial things, while more nuanced information can be left for humans. Let us pick which parts to highlight and in what order.
These rules don’t stop at filters and bios. Some apps dictate how many photos you can show and insist they all be of your face as if every nuance of your personality can be captured in a headshot. These rules common in most dating apps are more controlling than any other expressive or social platform I can think of, and they definitely don’t fit every culture’s vibe. noticed that in Japan, portraits and selfies can come off as self-centered; people there often post group shots, their cats, or even their trusty rice cookers instead.
Bring Instagram, Pinterest, hiking logs, and music playlists together into one fluid story. Show us the music that made you cry last night, the art projects you ditched halfway, or the Sunday soccer game you never miss. Give profiles room to breathe, to roam, to evolve.
3. Graphic design is lacking in delicacy
Here, some apps are more guilty than others. The absolute exception is , the app from Berlin, which is the only one that gets the mood one has to be in. In the picture below, you can compare icons and styles used in Pure versus all other apps.
Embrace dark mode, and say no to bright, shiny things in multiple colors. Generic icons and emojis are fine for productivity apps, but in the context of dating, the little touches matter in preparing the mood. The apps should imagine as if they were preparing to receive the user for the first time at home, on a date. It helps to unclutter your place, dim the lights, and light the candles.
On the contrary, some apps go out of their way to gamify the hell out of it and make features like SuperSwipe, SuperRose, and SuperDooperInToYou. On the core team of the first Macintosh computer, there was one artist among many engineers, Susan Kare, who carefully designed many icons and fonts, which were critical in defining the look and feel of the new user interface.
4. App monetization: paid a la carte features get you more dopamine than dates
A monthly subscription for a dating app usually gives you more visibility, which is the best thing you can wish for. However, apps offer you a la carte features if you cannot afford a full monthly subscription. These are smaller packages you can buy on demand for a few bucks. Send a message to Anna, see what Anna has written to you, see who likes you (probably Anna), give a super like, and get applause from everyone all at once because you are so cool. These features are better designed to regulate your dopamine and make you spend time on the app rather than go outside and spend time with a date. Sometimes, you can pay to send messages to people on a freemium plan who cannot read the messages you paid to send them; they might get a notification: “Pay to read messages from Anna.”
Primarily, female and some attractive male profiles get more matches and visibility than they can pay attention to; they do not need to pay to have even more. As the graph in shows, attractive profiles get most of the total messages exchanged, the same way popular accounts get most of the following on Twitter. But unlike Twitter-following, dating is a one-to-one relationship, not a many-to-one.
On the data look similar: highly attractive women (top 20%) get 37% of the likes, compared to 18% for the least attractive 50% of women. Men get fewer likes, only 14%, with the most attractive men receiving 74% of those likes. The least attractive half of men get a mere 1% of all likes. This is not to say people on the bottom half do not have a chance on dating apps; this is to say the money paid for likes is not a good proxy for the number of dates you will get.
Instead of using hot profile picks as hooks to get other users to buy Super-Likes, apps should be working on flattening this curve, the curve that directs most of the activity toward certain profiles, in this case, attractive people. Allowing for other rich profile sections showcasing users’ individuality could, in turn, reduce the pure effect of appearance.
has an innovative monetization model. It charges you a fixed amount every time you schedule an in-person first date through the app, and all the rest is free. I am impressed by this solution, given how immersed we were and still are by most of the market shoving the other solution as the only one down our throat.
5. Racial profiling
Some people open a dating app and feel stuck in a narrow pool; the app keeps feeding them faces of one particular race. This doesn’t mean the algorithm hates diversity. It’s just playing the odds and guessing who you’ll “probably” like based on the average preferences of people the app thinks are like you. The taste of the majority is pushed on all users, possibly reinforcing our dating stereotypes even more day by day.
But developers can break the cycle. A study called suggested three practical steps:
Don’t give users race filters. If that feels too blunt, at least mix things up occasionally. Show people someone they might not expect, highlight profiles that challenge their comfort zone, and encourage curiosity over confirmation.
Redefine what it means to connect. Instead of focusing on race or ethnicity, nudge users to pick from new sets of categories — like a certain “monster” persona in a Japanese hookup app. This approach disrupts the old labels and forces people to find common ground in something fresh and unexpected.
Make it matter if you care about inclusion. Offer a “Diversity Friendly” badge. Let users show that they’re open to meeting people who don’t look or live exactly like them. This signals that understanding and openness are key platform values.
A view on two important coming trends in dating apps — Yes, AI is one of them
I see two future trends, one I am optimistic about and one I take to be a radicalization of the issues in the status quo.
Multipurpose platforms: Good news first, some platforms like and envision being an app that meets new people for all purposes, not just romantic pursuits. This will take the edge off and make the app more relaxed and forgiving. In real life, we are hardly ever 100% focused on being attracted to someone; it happens alongside other forms of engagement.
This means less conflict of interest between the app’s finances and users’ happiness. No matter how much one claims to be “the app to be deleted,” apps earn money when you are on them, and once you are happy and off the market, you won’t pay them. If there are reasons for keeping the app even after you are in a happy relationship, there are fewer reasons to keep you from having a relationship.
AI Wingman: The bad news is the trend of automating and outsourcing more parts of dating to AI. There are already both in-app features and that optimize your profile bio and picture to help you with first messages and further replies; you can choose how funny you want to sound.
No doubt, AI will be part of dating in one way or another. I hope for AI use cases where users can transparently “Use” AI and that we can mitigate users hiding behind AI, with AI being the central piece.
So yes, AI Assistant has the wonderful benefit of guiding people through anxious first steps. It may even offer more kind and polite opening messages than the person would choose otherwise, but it would also mean the messages you get would soon get all the more similar.
Do we need to chat so much on dating apps?
This section is dedicated to an analysis of all the time we are investing in chat in dating apps and what chat means for safety, flirting, and planning the date. How can we reduce the time spent chatting? And how can we make chatting more enjoyable? In principle, what we chat about is left up to us, and we are not to blame the app if we do not enjoy it.
Chatting on dating apps started out as something fun and exciting. At first, it felt like a rush to be messaging someone you’d never have met otherwise. But let’s be honest: It got old fast. Eventually, those endless text exchanges turn into a stale routine — copy-paste lines, empty small talk, and a lot of waiting around, hoping something clicks. like one from Badoo found that users aged 18–30 in the UK spend around 10 hours a week swiping and messaging, and it’s not always clear if this time is well spent.
Why do we put up with this? Because we think it’s safer. We chat to check for deal breakers, to confirm that the other person is who they say they are, and to feel out how likely we are to have an okay time if we meet up. As a female user, I had the privilege of not being perceived as a weirdo or accused of looking for sex when I asked people to meet outside on the dating app on my first message. This is the only strategy I have ever used. But soon, I understood you cannot do the same as a man. Women, in particular, must keep the conversation going to gauge safety and intention. Men, on the other hand, rightly worry that skipping the chit-chat makes them look pushy or suspicious. As a result, we all waste hours “getting comfortable” online before we muster the nerve to meet.
Therefore, regulating the time allocated to chat is tied closely to trust. Trust means both confidence in the app for user authentication and screening, as well as cultural trust and respect for women’s rights in the specific geography where users are located.
Imagine how much information and intimacy you can drive from 4 seconds of eye contact with someone, or try to imagine how many emotions and attitudes can accompany someone saying the word “please” to you, it can be anywhere from politeness and gratitude to sarcasm, desperation, and entitlement. This is what you are missing in the time you spend chatting and not meeting.
That is all to say: If chatting on dating apps is not bringing you pleasure, feel free to cut down on it. Similarly, the apps could be doing their part in normalizing shorter chat sessions and offering ways to make the transition to offline meetings easier.
Imagine how much information and intimacy you can drive from 4 seconds of eye contact with someone, or try to imagine how many emotions and attitudes can accompany someone saying the word “please” to you . . .
While we are still on the chat, we might as well give it a chance of being refreshing instead of tedious. Chatting still follows a stronger gender stereotype. Despite the efforts of apps like Bumble (where women must start the conversation), it is rare for women to start writing first. They often take on the position of a lady waiting in a tower, approached by men who have it upon them to impress her and be worthy of her attention.
Gender stereotypes add to the monotone feeling. It is challenging to break the power of cultural expectations and to increase diversity in the way we interact, but these old patterns drain the freshness out of getting to know someone, making the process feel more like a tired ritual than a meeting of equals.
Some apps are already experimenting with this. Breeze, for example, doesn’t even offer chat. You pick a match, you schedule a date, and off you go. It’s a gamble, yes. However, not having chats come with certain perks, such as account verification, becomes a more manageable problem. Since you can only meet people in real life, it does not speak to people who want your money or running a cyber scam. This drastically reduces the number of bots on the platform.
What dating app users get wrong
In this section dedicated to dating culture, I want to get the following three messages across. We will go into detail about each right after.
- My most important message in the section is that there’s huge, untapped potential to make First Dates better.
- Users often mix the quality of the dating app with the quality of the users and their culture. They just switch to a different app if they are not happy with the culture. App makers can also not engineer their way through this, as the order is somewhat emergent. However, users joined with engaged app makers should be able to give direction to culture.
- Dating apps have a significant impact on users' emotions and self-worth. Understanding and handling this dimension is key to enjoying dating.
The typical first date can often be awkward; people can feel under pressure and unable to act like they would usually do. Walking and going to a bar/cafe are default first-date activities, emphasizing the absence of any other persons. This is fine for many daters, but does it fit everyone?
How about an activity on the first date, like playing a game or visiting a gallery? What about joining my friends on a hike, seeing my show, or joining this community event we host? What about a group of singles going out together, or as it’s called in Japan, a gōkon? Anything to add more context and diversity to the first dates, which, as a side-effect, would also take the sharp focus off of having to perform.
Context gives you something to talk about and interact with; it gives you more options to know your partner than having to ask them directly as if it was a job interview. Dating scientists and coaches like Esther Perel and Helene Fischer have been advocating for context, novelty, and adventure for years. We still have yet to see this actualized in popular apps.
How about an activity on the first date, like playing a game or visiting a gallery? What about joining my friends on a hike, seeing my show, or joining this community event we host?
A date with someone you do not know is essentially a risk. The upside can be anything from having a good time to genuinely connecting with someone. The downside is completely wasting your time. Each person has their own level of comfort with risk. By adding more options, like an activity that is interesting on its own and bringing friends that you are comfortable with, you are hedging against the downsides. For some people, removing the pressure of having to perform the entire time on the date might even make the upsides more likely.
Context and culture
If you look at reviews of dating apps, you often read not complaints about the app but complaints about what sort of people are on this app or that the other users have done something unpleasant. We see the combination of the app and the people on it as a service we are consuming and paying for, not just the app.
Hinge CEO talks about this challenge, fully aware that people perceive the app and its users as a united experience. They see their mission in not just providing the platform and seeing what happens but also stirring the culture by pushing the users to get rid of unrealistic filters and expectations, helping users make profiles more authentic and richer in information, and nudging people away from ghosting.
What can further help is to present the culture as fluid rather than fixed. And to show users that they are not only observers of this culture but also have a role in shaping it. Apps could share statistics about the culture and show how it has changed over time since the launch of the app in the region. The proof that culture has already changed validates the hope that it can even improve. Providing ways for users to give feedback specific to the culture rather than the app itself can foster a feeling of validation and agency. Imagine seeing a live daily graph of the percentage of women who started chatting in Berlin today, or the same but with a self-reported number of people being ghosted. Hopefully, we see the first one going up and the second one coming down.
Dating apps are a great place to be exposed to new people, but they are a dangerous place to seek validation. We should be clear about what service is offered by the dating apps and what we sign up for.
Some individuals often overinterpret signals they get on the app, mistakenly believing they are directed at them. Sometimes, people don’t match with us because they’ve moved away or are simply busy. Yet, we might misconstrue these timing issues as a personal rejection. Some people focus on the number of matches, replies, and dates instead of seeking connections they genuinely enjoy. Some of us need proof that we are desirable to have the confidence to enjoy a date.
Interesting also is not what people feel about the app but with which intensity they feel it. The dating apps have the potential to have an intimate relationship with users’ self-image, and once the self-image takes a hit, the reviews on the app can be rather passionate.
On dating apps, validation is directly tied to personal attractiveness and desirability. Users seek affirmation through matches and messages, which indicate romantic or sexual interest from others. Positive feedback can boost confidence, while a lack of matches or negative interactions may lead to self-doubt.
Dating apps are a great place to be exposed to new people, but they are a dangerous place to seek validation. We should be clear about what service is offered by the dating apps and what we sign up for. They offer exposure and a chance for you to practice dating. They do not offer love, nor validation, nor a promise that you will be loved.
So! What should third-generation online dating look like?
As a software engineer, I have learned that once a problem becomes too complicated to solve, it is often because we have not truly understood the requirements. So, let’s redefine the problem we are trying to solve so that we find more diverse solutions to it. A Dating App is an online tool that
Those basics matter, but everything else remains open to re-invention. Right now, apps feel like they’re all painted with the same brush. It’s possible — maybe even urgent — to try new strokes.
We want something that feels alive and capable of evolving with its users and their changing ideas of dating. The path there isn’t obvious, and maybe that’s good. When we admit we don’t have all the answers, we give ourselves room to experiment, to let unusual ideas take root and see which ones survive under real conditions. The goal is not just to find “the perfect match” but to create a fluid environment where culture can shift and grow and where users themselves shape what’s next.
To step a foot in this direction and bring back the capacity for change and user agency to online dating, I would like to see some of the following possibilities make their way into future solutions.
- Flexible Profiles and Richer Expression — Instead of locking everyone into rigid templates, imagine profiles that unfold gradually and let people spotlight their hobbies, playlists, snapshots of daily life, and small tastes of what truly matters to them. Let the app serve as a canvas, not a checklist.
- Beyond the Typical First Date — This takes the focus off of exchanging CVs, puts it on pleasure, and creates an atmosphere where people can be themselves. This could be done by offering fresh date ideas through content curation and community forums. Or a bazaar of third-party services and business partners suitable for first dates, which could even be another monetization source on its own.
- Community and Shared Wisdom — Why not integrate a forum for questions, stories, and mutual support at the center of the experience? Maybe partner with existing communities or encourage direct contributions from coaches or therapists. Make shared insight an active element, not buried in the help menu.
- Mental health support — Dating tests our confidence and kindness. It can wound or heal. Offering optional resources — articles, simple exercises, even guided sessions — might soften the rough edges. The goal is not to fix people but to acknowledge that the search for connection can get messy.
- A Personal Dating Diary — A space where users can note how they felt about a date, what clicked or didn’t, might help them see patterns they’d otherwise miss. It’s not meant to be another measurement of worth but a quiet place to reflect, learn, and maybe adjust their approach next time. A dating diary is also a great way for user acquisition, as people could be logging about their dates no matter where they met them.
- Rethink Filters — The endless toggle switches — height, age, distance — keep us safe in our comfort zones, but also lock us in. Perhaps we could switch to soft filters, meaning occasionally showing what we’re missing when we hide behind a filter could prompt a second glance, a surprise, or a new connection. Some differences might be more intriguing than we assumed.
- Encourage people to meet offline — The app could make meeting outside easier by making it the default behavior. Subtle suggestions, time limits on messaging, or built-in tools for planning outings could nudge people to take that step, if they feel ready.
- Bring focus from “finding” the best date to “making” the best date. So much of the media around dating, whether by the apps or by the dating advice industry, revolves around how to get more and better matches/dates. This makes sense since everything that gets measured gets talked about. Instead, we could be supporting how to have a better date, how to bring back adventure, have more fun, be relaxed, be present, and truly see the other person. The idea is to reframe success as a memorable encounter, not an expanding inbox.
- Balance privacy and transparency — Some crave transparency and verification; others need privacy and freedom. The apps could accommodate more range if they give people choices. For example, in the case of location and ID verification, users choose how much they reveal or require. The risk-takers can still have their shot with someone who needs strict privacy, while less risk-taking users can feel safe.
- Seeing Dating as a Skill — We might start dating not knowing what type of relationship we are looking for, how we want to feel on a date, or what type of people we are usually choosing. That is completely okay, and we can embrace this lack of awareness. After spending some time dating, you should be able to answer the following questions: Are you too selective or not selective enough? Do your dates bring out the side of you that you like about yourself? Have you ever had a good connection with someone who did not initially spark with you? How often is your impression of the first date correct for you? How often do you feel needed and accepted instead of disposable? The app could help us improve on answering these and thereby raise our awareness.
- Leading the Conversation on Culture — Dating norms didn’t come from nowhere, and they aren’t fixed. Apps have a rare vantage point — they can highlight shifts in user behavior, start dialogues about harmful practices, and introduce new etiquette. If users see the platform as a partner in cultural exploration rather than a static marketplace, real change might follow. Grindr’s media segment “Into More” provides opportunities to engage with community issues proactively.
- Breakup consulting — Hinge users found ghosting to be the biggest hindrance to their experience. Some people ghost to spare the other person the pain of direct rejection. Users differ in how much directness they like to receive; they can configure if they prefer more direct rejection or a soft blow. This info does not have to be visible on the profile, but the app might gently suggest ways to let someone down kindly or highlight that the other person prefers honesty.
- Relationship book club — This is simply another way to focus on community, the fact that dating culture is dynamic, and the promotion of awareness and intentionality in dating.
- Space to share various etiquettes for dating — Such etiquette could offer us considerable benefits. It would make it easy to ask and suggest things with subtlety and plausible deniability, enabling us to meet more people in person. It would simplify saying no and ending a date, helping us not take rejections the hard way. By setting expectations around do’s and don’ts and around things we can ask, we establish best practices for breaking up and navigating relationships. F*ck The Small Talk is an event that uses a good example of what I call etiquette. The usual small talk is forbidden. You cannot ask, “What do you do?” or“Where are you from?” You get guidelines on how much personal information you might ask for or share. This is a cultural innovation, not a technological one. The app does not offer it, but an app could give space to communities that bring forward such innovations.
The final word is that human needs are more diverse than any of us imagine. Not all future dating apps will be about long-term relationships or follow any of the ideas I talked about. There is always room for an app with a simple interface like Tinder, and simplicity is good. All of the ideas mentioned have yet to go through the trial and error cycle, and many will not make it through. However, the current ecosystem of dating apps has enough void in it to make it worthwhile for some apps to experiment with these concepts.
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