Recently the supremely popular dating app, Tinder, has premiered a new pay to play version creatively called, Tinder Plus, which will come with a variety of new features such as an unlimited number of likes which will not be offered on the freebie version. The analysts at Morgan Stanley have predicted that only 5-6% of Tinder users will pay for the new app and they are absolutely right. No one wants to pay for a hook-up, especially women.
Let’s step outside of the digital world for a minute and inside a roadside diner along a very hectic highway. The waiter seats you immediately which surprises you as there was a long line already ahead of you. You’re on a paleo diet so you want to make a few substitutions on the menu. All the waiter says is sure with a bright sincere smile. Also he informs you that the beer is as bottomless as the coffee if you want to cheat on your diet just a little bit.
Against the cushiony upholstery, you wonder how in the world did you came across such heaven until the food comes. It’s shit. That’s exactly what the experience of Tinder Plus projects to be. While Tinder puts faith into good service providing profits, they should have a think about improving the quality of what they are serving. Women will think of the penis pictures and then question who pays for porn anymore.
What Tinder wants women to pay for is the chance to “rewind” a swipe so if you accidentally swiped left on a blue-eye stunner then you can bring him back for a like. Also Tinder is offering a “passport” that allows you to swipe in other countries so if you want a tour guide for the business meeting or for that sales convention overseas then you can start swiping in the upcoming destination.
Those features certainly are not bad ideas and actually improve the app’s convenience but none of these abilities allows women to shift through the terrible content of constant threesome initiators and the normal type of douchebag. How about a reliability meter? A measure of how reliable this guy will be in meeting you on time or even at all would be a bonus. Also a crazy-hot scale ala How I Meet Your Mother would be sublime so women could acutely gauge how much is worth to cope with crazy antics.
In one unexpected crazy-hot experience, I eagerly stepped out to meet a stunningly hot guy at a Belgian beer bar where he was already sat around two other women and a male friend. The numbers were quite suspicious and rightfully so since crazy-hot Tinder guy was trying to decide which one of us were going to be the hook-up by attempting to make out with each of us. Did I forget to mention that he was Mormon?
Okcupid, Tinder’s precursor, used to require users to answer a series of questions pertaining to a wide quirky range of topics such as reactions to nuclear disaster, daily hygiene habits and desire to have children. These questions were fun to read and you could rank them in order of personal importance. It wasn’t quite as succinct as a crazy-hot scale but it gave a good hint at what you might be getting into to.
Tinder requires nothing except a Facebook profile. The only personality insight is what can be gleamed from photograph selections and if any Facebook page likes or friends are shared. In a small town having shared Facebook friends could be useful in knowing who to swipe left or who to swipe right, but in a widespread and 1,000+ Facebook friend metropolis, shared friends could be the same random at a party that you both just met once ever in life. It might interest women to pay for a glimmer of insight into another person’s perspective, beliefs, and values.
The woman over 30 whom Tinder wants to charge double, a $19.99 USD fee compared to the under 30’s $9.99 USD fee, grows weary of hook-ups. They’re fun if they’re free and easy but generally thirty-something ladies have completed their identity crises and accepted that a Friday night on the couch watching Netflix in yoga pants is much more exciting than being out for drinks in uncomfortable shoes waiting on some unknown stranger.
She wants a feature which will allow her to come home from a long day at her mid-career position to find someone special waiting to sit on that couch watching Netflix with her and to know he’ll be there tomorrow too because he’s not just a hook-up; he’s her husband. Have I broken all the rules of feminism by suggesting that women want to be cared for and respected in a committed relationship? Of course, it does not have to be marriage but for something stable and real, many women would pay their weight in gold.