It's going down, I'm yelling Tinder - unraveling a phenomenon

Tinder, defined by its official website as “a fun way to connect with new and interesting people around you,” has racked up quite a reputation these days. Known as a sort of a “hookup” app, Tinder is not quite percieved as intended. Originally intended to facilitate connections with mutual friends, Tinder is instead understood as a source of easy, no-strings-attached booty calls.

Tinder does well to connect people of the same age who are geographically close to one another, though the basis of these connections is shallow at best. You can literally look at a person’s profile picture and “swipe left” them away, which is probably one of the coldest and easiest turndowns ever. You are matched on the most basic of interests (which is automatically updated via your Facebook page, which Tinder requires you to connect to the app in order to find matches), and in reality, only a good profile picture will get you the coveted “swipe right” response of approval — the ability to message a Tinder match. Unfortunately, appearance is ultimately what determines one's opportunities for conversation.

For the purposes of making this article as authentic as possible and giving the fine readers of The Johns Hopkins News-Letter an educated opinion, I decided to download the app and test out my luck on Tinder. Alas, my efforts were in vain. My phone is old and sad and iOS 7-less, and thus, Tinder is not actually compatible with it. Strike one, Tinder: you’re already on my bad side.

So instead, I took a more observational approach, asking friends who use the app and researching online. After peeling through the web, a quick BuzzFeed break and a few really good laughs at obnoxious Tinder screenshots, I concluded a thing or two about the popular “dating” app.

So how, dear reader, is Tinder any different than a dating website? The stigma that Tinder carries is that it is, for lack of a better description, a hookup app. People aren’t using Tinder to necessarily match with their future significant other, rather someone to, say, hangout with between the hours of midnight and 2 a.m. While this reputation is certainly not true for all Tinder users (I have had friends who actually do meet up with their matches for coffee dates), it is certainly an underlying aspect of the Tinder culture. I’m a proponent for dating websites; while I personally prefer face-to-face communication, I understand that it is hard for many people to meet potential significant others, and putting themselves out on the Internet in a safe and appropriate way can lead to a successful relationship. The difference between that and Tinder is that dating sites usually contain robust profiles about people, and it’s generally understood that everyone on the site is there for the same reason: to find love. Due to the tremendous variability in how people perceive Tinder, one’s intentions when using the app can be unintentionally misleading.

While Tinder may be marketed as a way for people to connect, on college campuses it’s more so utilized to pass the time, to get an ego boost and frankly, to find a hookup buddy. The majority of people I know who use Tinder, use it primarily as a joke, maybe a quick ego inflation before going out, or even just something to do to pass the time. And it seems harmless enough. Tinder itself is not inherently bad, though culturally, it can be superficial and promotes unrealistic relationship expectations, especially if you go on Tinder for its intended purpose, and your match is only talking to you for other, less honorable reasons.

I’ll admit it: I like being complimented and flattered as much as the next girl. However, I’m not sure that Tinder is a healthy way to achieve that ego inflation. Many Tinder users, be it girls or guys, flatter you to either get the chance to be your nightly hookup or just because it’s fun to flirt. Again, it’s not bad to harmlessly flirt; what is bad is when harmless flirting escalates into unfair expectations of hookups or when friendly conversations become offensive. Instead of using Tinder to bolster my self-esteem, I’d rather turn to a friend or say, a boy I actually know personally. It’s like going to Subway instead of Chipotle for dinner after class — it gets the job done but doesn’t leave you feeling as satisfied as the Chipotle burrito does. Subway leaves your stomach bloated but inexplicably empty, and you regret every calorie you just consumed. Yes, you wait in a longer line and pay an extra two dollars for guacamole, but the end result makes you feel genuinely happy, not like you settled for a half-heartedly spread lump of sauce atop your lackluster hoagie.

Then there is the pressure of expectation that Tinder carries. Tinder may place unnecessary pressures on people to meet up or hookup with their matches. I’ve heard stories and have seen countless screenshots of Tinder exchanges where the conversation was seemingly flowing well, but then when one person was shut down for a chance of actually meeting (or hooking up), this poor, rejected soul immediately became offensive and crude. No one should feel bad for being uncomfortable or uninterested in another person, and attacking another person for not adhering to the norms of Tinder culture could potentially lead the rejecting party to possibly do something that they might regret or to exacerbate existing self-esteem issues.

At the end of the day, Tinder is a harmless app when you go into it understanding that 99 percent of users don’t really want to get to know you; they'd like to get to know your bedspread. If you are actually yearning to connect with people in your area, make friends or find a possible relationship, I suggest putting yourself out there at school, attending school functions, joining clubs, speaking up in class or even going to a bar. Just go forth without the expectation of finding your soul mate. For now, I’m going to stick to aggressively Facebook stalking potential suitors instead. Or, like, talking to them in person. Maybe.