In a world where fewer couples meet in person and young people date less in general, Tinder is experimenting with a chatbot that claims to help users improve their flirting skills.
The dating app said earlier this month it was debuting an in-app game that uses AI characters — built using OpenAI’s GPT-4o — to spin up pretend situations. The character kicks off an improvised conversation, and the user responds out loud with something flirty.
You can win points for banter the app deems “charming” or “playful.” You lose points if your back-and-forth seems “cheeky” or “quirky.”
If that seems tough to navigate, it was. I flirted with a lineup of AI characters to size up the chatbot and quickly found myself in a confusing entanglement with an AI-generated data analyst named Andrew.
Tinder, owned by Match Group, says the “Game Game,” as it’s named, is just for fun. It’s available only to users in the United States on iPhones for a limited time. But its creation reflects the growing role AI tools play in our lives, including our intimate relationships. As apps like Tinder and Bumble lose users amid “dating app burnout,” the companies are turning to AI to win new growth. At the same time, people are forming relationships with AI companion bots by the millions.
The “Game Game” served up a series of situations, each involving a public meet-cute like bumping into someone at a coffee shop or showing up to the same concert. It asked me to talk out loud into my phone and win the romantic interest of various AI characters.
The first scenario involved a financial analyst named Charles, whom I’ve supposedly run into at the Tokyo airport after accidentally swapping our luggage. I tried my best to be polite to the finance guy who stole my suitcase, asking questions about his travel and agreeing to go to coffee. But the game had some critical feedback: I should try to connect more emotionally using humor or stories from my life.
My next go had me at a Dallas wedding trying to flirt with Andrew, a data analyst who had supposedly stumbled into the venue, underdressed, because he’d been looking for a quiet spot to … analyze data. This time I kept things playful, poking fun at Andrew for crashing a wedding.
Andrew didn’t like that.
I’d “opted to disengage” by teasing this person instead of helping him blend in at the wedding, the app said. A failure on my part, apparently — and also a reminder why generative AI doesn’t belong everywhere.
Tinder isn’t the first dating app to experiment with AI-powered conversations. Rizz uses AI to autosuggest good lines to use when you’re talking to a potential match. Teaser spins up a chatbot that’s based on your personality, meant to talk and behave like you would during a flirty chat.
Companion bots, meanwhile, have spawned high-profile cases of users falling deeply in love. They’ve also encouraged users to kill their families or assassinate the queen of England. Popular companion bot company Replika boasts more than 30 million users.
Going in, I was worried that Tinder’s AI characters would outperform the people I’ve met on dating apps and I’d fall down a rabbit hole of robot love. Instead, they behaved in a way typical for chatbots: drifting toward biased norms and failing to capture the complexity of human emotions and interactions.
The “Game Game” seemed to replicate the worst parts of flirting — the confusion, the unclear expectations, the uncomfortable power dynamics — without the good parts, like the spark of curiosity about another person. Tinder released the feature on April Fools’ Day, likely as a bid for impressions and traffic. But its limitations overshadowed its novelty.
Such is the case for many AI tools right now, from internet search bots to online shopping assistants, according to reviews from my Post colleagues. Companies are eager to incorporate this newish technology, often without considering whether it adds any value for users.
Hillary Paine, Tinder’s vice president of product, growth and revenue, said in an email that AI will play a “big role in the future of dating and Tinder’s evolution.”
She said the game is meant to be silly and that the company “leaned into the campiness.” Gen Z is a socially anxious generation, Paine said, and this age group is willing to endure a little cringe if it leads to a “real connection.”
Tinder and I might have different definitions of a real connection. Sorry, Andrew — it’s not me, it’s you.