Social distancing is the Tinder mentality gone mad. It protects us from the dangerous randomness of social interaction. Like a dating app, it saves us from those difficult introductions, chance conversations and untidy loose ends of real life. Above all, it offers the false promise of a shield against risk.
Living at one remove from reality is already the norm for millions who dress, style their hair, decorate their homes and choose their holiday destinations with a selfie in mind, and who practice their poses for the friends they know only on Facebook, Instagram or Snapchat.
These posts are far from spontaneous. Posters often reach out to a close adviser to gauge reaction and modify the communication before posting it, lest it strike the wrong note. That is two removes from the immediacy of contact with real people, in fact, it's three: You have a virtual walled garden into which you allow only certain friends, then you prepare an interaction with them but you first negotiate that interaction with a trusted advisor so that you say the right things for the best effect.
No risk of a social media faux pas. I'm keeping it real, yah!
Covid-19 is the perfectly constructed, multi-generational virus response and it makes perfect sense to those who relate by app. No wonder the prison lockdown has been embraced so enthusiastically. It plays to the same fears and desires by selling a lie: that you can sanitize your life while getting more of what you want. (I note that some OCD sufferers have said that the injunction to wash hands repeatedly was not the kind of advice they needed to hear). Some users of dating apps have tired of the endless swiping: left to reject, right to like and new apps offer more "authenticity" by... you guessed it.. ever-more curated, pre-approved groups of users. People you might actually let yourself talk to.
Digital passports would be the ultimate introduction for those seeking a safe way to talk to real, live humans. Dating apps already offer some pre-approval - from mum if you use Tinder's Ma Filter. Soon you may be able to jump from mom's clutches into the arms of The State, with the ability to select your next date from their digital passport, filtered by income, job type, social credit score and infection status.
Real life through a virtual condom
During the clampdown, prison lockdown, curfew or cowering-in-place (is there a nice word for it? What do people who love the lockdown call it?) dating apps have offered freebies to make life more bearable: you are now allowed to date... wait for it... outside of your dating radius, thanks to Tinder temporary lifting of limits on its Passport feature. The residence permit is being waived for a month and you are now allowed to date virtually in other towns than your own. Yes, Tinder has an internal passport system just like the former Soviet Union.
In another move towards real social interaction, rival dating apps like Hinge and The League are promoting video chats. Whether it's to check that each other is human or to indulge in virtual sex, I'll leave it to your imagination.
There is a clear parallel between the artifice of social distancing and the artifice of relational apps. The proposal of digital passports as the solution to lockdown comes from the same geek-tech cohort who manage social media. Should anyone be surprised that those trained to live their lives through social media lap it up?
Mediating all your life through an app is not for everyone. Like unlocking your door with chop sticks, it takes a knack but the benefit of membership is the social exclusivity of finding other people who can do the same. I'll use the handle and go out to meet real people. Feel free to keep it real.
Comments