Slate Magazine | - |
The “innovation” that has driven the financial industry over the last two decades has also transformed the dating market, with similar effects on romance as on the economy.
The Boardroom and the Bedroom
How both dating and finance have been screwed by the Internet.
Your parents dated the way Warren
Buffett picks a stock: a close review of the prospectus over dinner,
careful analysis of long-term growth potential, detailed real asset
evaluation.
Sure, the old economy dating market in which they participated had
the occasional speculative frenzy: Woodstock, V-E day, whatever went on
at Studio 54. My parents met during spring break. In Florida.
But love and its compounding interests were usually pursued with appropriate due diligence.
Then came the Internet. The “innovation” that has driven the
financial industry over the last two decades has also transformed the
dating market, with similar effects on romance as on the economy. The
traditional focus on long-term security—marriage and retirement—has been
replaced by a relentless pursuit of instant gratification and immediate
returns. These days, the Wolf is as much on Tinder as on Wall Street.
Just look at what online dating has done to the meet market. The
speed and frequency of transactions has gone up. Volatility has spiked
as relationship investment strategy has changed from building long-term
value to quarterly—or nightly—profits. New investors have entered the
market with greater ease, although all too often only to be taken
advantage of by more sophisticated players. New avenues for fraud have
opened up: Manti Te’o meet Bernie Madoff on Ashley Madison. Even inequality has risen. Some investors are rolling in it; others have just lost their shirts.
How did the bedroom end up looking so much like the boardroom?
In successive waves, innovation pioneered in the financial markets
has been adopted to dating. Online dating’s initial trading
platforms—Match created in 1995, JDate in 1997, etc.—were the
relationship equivalent to the online trading sites that first allowed
investors to directly manage their own portfolios. Think “Talk to Chuck,” except if he can message you first (hopefully not about the size of his portfolio).
Then came quantitative trading. EHarmony’s “scientific approach” came out in 2000, with later editions augmented by an “algorithm of love.” OkCupid, launched in 2004, has brought us big-data dating. The site captures a “datacylsm” of online behavior to be romanticized—and monetized.
And sure enough, as in finance, quants soon turned to data-driven approaches to skew the market to their advantage. Slate contributor Amy Webb “hacked” OkCupid using an algorithm to eventually find love.
Then came high-frequency trading. Sites like Grindr, launched in
2009, or Tinder, launched in 2012, give a whole new meaning to what
Michael Lewis has described as “flash boys”
in the financial markets. We now swipe left or right so quickly that we
can’t even fully process the transactions—in this case, people—flashing
across our screens.
Online daters are also mirroring the move away from vanilla investments to more exotic or niche offerings.
In the old days, you could easily invest only in broad categories of
assets: stocks, treasuries, major international markets. Nowadays,
everyone can easily pursue his or her own 50 shades of investment
strategy. Want to invest in New Zealand wool? Click here. Looking for a furrymate? Try here.
To be clear, I make no judgment against adults consensually engaging
with other adults—whether in the marketplace or in their private lives.
The transformation accompanying digital dating has been complex. It has
brought both new opportunities and new risks.
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