I agree, great dating. I love everything in exchange for getting to know someone else. Playful sarcasm. The dopamine rush. The subterfuge of sex and the subtext of everything that is not said. Flirting, to me, is still one of the last human endeavors where people deliberately try to find common ground. It can be pure, completely magnetic. And it’s an art that can’t be invented, even—despite Silicon Valley’s best efforts—by AI.
That, of course, didn’t stop Big Dating from going all-in on virtual intimacy this year, when the focus shifted from endless swiping to AI-powered matchmaking. As the narrative about dating fatigue reaches its peak, the trend towards honest communication was an overdue correction by an industry that, during the last decade, built itself with ruthless scale, crazy desires, and profit motives, only to realize that the answer was in front of them all along: You win by investing in people.
The integration of AI tools wasn’t just about keeping up with the Joneses or relying on new innovations (although it was some of that). For once it was more than just talking: Big Dating wanted to be forgiven for its sins.
Where dating apps once conspired to retain users at any cost, AI has presented the opportunity to connect people quickly and, perhaps, forever. It has led many companies to rethink their user experience. According to a Pew Research Center study a few years ago, in the US, about 60 percent of single adults say they are not currently looking for a relationship or casual dates. And while we’re not exactly in a romantic slump—active users remain high; not to mention that Facebook Dating is a secret hit among Gen Z—overall user engagement among several apps, according to analytics firm Apptopia, is down 7 percent year-over-year. (Yes, despite one Belgian artist’s strange attempt to match people based on their browser history.)
It’s not a problem or anything of the sort—hundreds of millions of people are still swiping, scrolling, and just like every day—Big Dating desperately needed to fix its reputation. AI looked like the answer.
In October, Three Day Rule, a veteran matchmaking service, launched a peer-trained AI app called Tai that offers real-time coaching. Grindr, which is on a mission to become the world’s leading gay “AI native,” uses tools from Anthropic and Amazon for its wingman feature and chat summaries (though some users have been unhappy about the app’s wider adoption of machine technology). Iris, Rizz, and Elate also rolled out AI features to help users navigate the early stages of speech.
In a year when everyone had it Love Island USA on the brain, longings are making a comeback, right-wing activists are campaigning for a bigger stake in the dating zeitgeist, and virtual relationships are seeing record growth—as is AI-fueled divorce. (According to a report by TechCrunch, the AI dating market has grown more than 96 percent since 2024.) Tinder, meanwhile, received a brand refresh and tried to attract more Gen Z users. “The biggest problem we’re concerned about … is the creation of a large number of new accounts,” Yoel Roth, head of trust and security for Match Group, told WIRED in October after the mandatory face verification update was introduced. of Tinder.
