Crazy Stupid Love
In ‘Crazy Stupid Love’, Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone meet in a bar, the old fashioned way | Warner Bros.

IF YOU HAD the choice, would you prefer to meet your next romantic interest at a bar, through mutual friends, at a run club, or by swiping through an app? While I’d wager the vast majority of us aspire to the former, meeting people without the assistance of dating apps is feeling more and more like a thing of the past. 

Despite dating apps’ intentions to help people find love in a streamlined, lower effort way, I’d wager they’re threatening to turn real-life courting into a lost art. Research shows that dating app users are feeling fatigued by the churn and burn nature of the platforms and are leaving them in droves – worldwide, dating apps were downloaded 237 million times in 2023, a decrease from 287 million in 2020. Research firm Sensor Tower found that the number of people who use these apps at least once a month has declined too, going from 154 million people in 2021 to 137 million in the second quarter of this year. Across the board, the data tells the same story: single people are disillusioned with finding love online and are searching for offline alternatives.

Recently, I spoke to five Australian guys about dating in 2024, and while each of them use platforms like Hinge, Tinder and Raya, they believe they’ve made finding a long-term partner much harder. It’s a grievance I hear from women, too. So if both genders admit to sharing this frustration, why does modern dating feel so broken?

The dating app conundrum

Lars*, a 25-year-old who works in marketing, has been single for a little over a year. Having been on a few dates with people he’s met through apps, he thinks they’ve made the line between casual dating and exclusivity blurry. “It’s probably had a negative impact on developing relationships and meeting people,” he tells me. “In saying that, I would not have met many people I enjoyed spending time with without dating apps.” 

He also believes the ‘gamification’ of dating via apps has “probably desensitised men to the intricacies of traditional courtship”, and subconsciously trained men’s brains for repetitive ‘success’ and “low-hanging fruit dopamine hits”.  It’s a catch-22 that resonates with many single people: the apps can be addictive, confusing and soul crushing, but they’ve trained us to feel more comfortable communicating from behind a screen. If you’re seriously looking for a long-term partner, you’re likely going to opt for the apps instead of walking up to someone and introducing yourself, at the risk of being rejected.

For Benjamin*, a 40-year-old who works in the coffee industry, app-based dating has resulted in some enjoyable dates, but overall, the success rate has been low. “I think the apps are only the way to go if you [are willing] to go in expecting lots of admin and a high death rate. And who has the energy for that?” he shares. 

Like all of the men I spoke to, he tells me that meeting someone ‘organically’ is his ideal scenario. “House parties, dinner parties, random meets. I think I probably need to up my gambling spirit when it comes to dating through people I know – friends of friends – although my recent experience has been that dating so close to home can mean problems if it doesn’t work out. But then again, having people to vouch for you makes for a great start. And no risk, no reward.”

Unlike the heterosexual men I spoke to, for Jasper, a bisexual 28-year-old student who’s in an open relationship, every meaningful connection, casual or otherwise, has come from meeting people organically. “That’s not to say it can’t happen on the apps, but for me personally, I’ve never felt any deep, truly meaningful connection from anyone I’ve met through an app. IRL is definitely something I enjoy and lean into as much as possible. It does require a certain delicacy though – I would never intentionally flirt with someone I could tell wasn’t into it or didn’t flirt back.” 

While Jasper has found success meeting people outside of the apps, many heterosexual men are hesitant to approach women in real life for fear of the attention being unwanted or misinterpreted. “Men don’t do that in Australia because of a reliance on apps to do the hard part (the confirmation of mutual attraction) and because they’re wary of coming off as disrespectful or presumptuous, or because it isn’t worth the risk,” Lars shares.

“People I’ve been on dates with are constantly repeating the rhetoric of how shit all men are”

Aside from the very real issues and frustrations dating apps present – or perhaps because of them – there’s also a growing divide between the expectations of men and women, and it’s having a tangible impact on dating in Australia. “I’ve been on quite a few dates from apps that haven’t gone anywhere,” says Dave*, a 32-year-old freelance artist and director who’s been single for the last three years. 

“I think a lot of women these days are expecting so much from guys – and I know the bar is very low, and that sucks – but a lot of my straight female friends and even people I’ve been on dates with are constantly repeating the rhetoric of ‘how shit all men are’. I’m not a ‘not all men’ kind of person, but I think it’s pretty horrible to go on a date with someone where they talk about how much they hate men.” While there is entirely valid reasons Australian women feel wary towards men – reports show gender-based violence is on the rise, an issue we’ve seen proliferated across the news this year – rolling into a date with a blanket ‘all men are shit’ mentality doesn’t seem to be making meeting someone any more successful for either sex.

The difficulty of finding a long-term partner in 2024

Omar*, a 35-year-old who works in insurance, has been single and actively dating for the last five years. He’s looking for “true partnership, open communication and trust”. Like Dave, he’s found it difficult to find a long-term partner, but for different reasons. “I have found girls don’t want to commit. They will say the right things about wanting a relationship but not take the leap, or they let you into their bodies but not into their souls – they won’t allow themselves to be vulnerable,” he tells me.

Omar’s experience could easily be taken from conversations I’ve had with women who say that men lead them on by telling them what they want to hear without having a desire to commit to anything beyond casual sexual encounters. Yet Omar’s is a perspective we don’t hear as often, as contemporary dating content is often much more focused on the female experience. But most of these men shared that non-committal and confusing behaviour is something they regularly experience while navigating dating.

Aside from Jasper, each of the men I spoke to are looking for long-term, monogamous partnerships. But they’re finding it challenging, which mirrors what most single women feel about dating right now. So, what’s the solution? Should we be using the apps more intentionally, and taking more frequent breaks? Why aren’t we asking our friends to set us up, when they are highly likely to know like-minded people that could make for a good match? What’s wrong with approaching someone in person – surely being rejected is better than never knowing? 

Whatever way you approach it, as Benjamin so wisely says, men and women alike have to accept that modern dating is “amok with dissatisfaction and disappointment, but that’s just going to last until you meet the right person. It sucks being single, until it doesn’t”.


Cait Emma Burke is a freelance writer and podcast producer from Melbourne.

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