When I moved to New York for my summer internship here at National Review, I expected the subways to be somewhat unpleasant. Stories of criminal and otherwise antisocial behavior on the train abound; even most New Yorkers don’t rush to defend it. What I did not expect was for the trains to be plastered with advertisements for Tinder and, by proxy, the ugliness of modern dating culture.
Take the “A toothbrush at their place” graphic as an example. The ad features a woman gifting a cartoonishly oversized toothbrush to, presumably, her girlfriend. Poking out from their fuzzy pink onesies are plasticine faces that come from the uncanny valley between Barbie and human being; their pained, frozen expressions parody genuine emotion.
Traditionalist that I am, I take umbrage with Tinder’s attempt to reinforce the normalization of both premarital and same-sex copulation; Madison Avenue’s apparent reluctance to portray heterosexual couples seems more a sign of cultural insecurity than of strength. Setting my moralizing aside, however, this ad does not even make the lifestyle it promotes look attractive. If you, too, wish to dress as a rejected extra from The Hunger Games or a real-life Teletubby, be my guest. But don’t be surprised when you must paint on an equally fake smile to hide the fact that a “toothbrush at their place” is far inferior to an engagement ring.
Tinder’s aesthetic shock-and-awe campaign is intended to cover up the fact that its business model is not meant to help you find a meaningful relationship. The toothbrush is a symbol of convenience, not commitment — it can be swept into a dustbin as easily as it is granted. And while hookup culture might seem exciting at the outset, it quickly becomes just as repulsive as the advertisements designed to promote it.