What Is With Garbage Male Responses to Bumble Prompts?
For one frightening social moment, it seemed that no dating app could contend with Tinder’s spicy reign, and the modern woman would continue to tread floods of ‘heyyyy x‘ texts forever. Then came Bumble, an oasis advertised as ‘changing the way people date for the better. Women make the first move.’ Mayhap, Bumble.com, mayhap…
I moved back to Canberra recently and decided to give Bumble a go, wanting to meet new people and drawn in by its famously feminist packaging. Bumble CEO, Whitney Wolfe Herd, became the Forbes’ youngest self-made female billionaire in February this year, reportedly founding Bumble after facing sexual harassment while working at Tinder. This sparked her motivation to create a social platform with a similar interface that would be safer for women, allowing them exclusively to message first.
Today, @Bumble becomes a public company. This is only possible thanks to the more than 1.7 billion first moves made by brave women on our app — and the pioneering women who paved the way for us in the business world. To everyone who made today possible: Thank you. #BumbleIPO 💛🐝 pic.twitter.com/OMLNGNvECB
— Whitney Wolfe Herd (@WhitWolfeHerd) February 11, 2021
I believe that Bumble could be this idyllic platform, however it seems certain users are undermining its potential. Here are my findings after using the app for just a few weeks: Men (not all men, but as per usual- far too many) continue to find ways to shrug off emotional labour in the online dating game. Now that boring and basic ‘SC?’ openers have been forcibly removed from the table, lazy responses to Bumble prompts are all the rage.
For those of you still meeting people authentically or whatever, Bumble kindly offers an easy way to spice up your profile in providing cute question prompts that poke at your personality. This addition could be wildly innovative, since no one actually knows what to put in the ‘about me’ section.
Prompts like ‘What are you really competitive about?’, or ‘What would you wish for if you had three wishes?’ are kind of bland, but that’s the point right? A blank canvas for you to start on, and me to safely add to, i.e. a conversation, Christian.
The great thing about this feature (in theory) is that the prompts are clearly designed to reveal slivers of personality that go beyond height, political party, and religion. I found this supports Bumble’s feminist motivations, as it allows for girls to screen better before messaging.
Modern society has gone from “never meet strangers from the internet,” to… well, this. Particularly in the #MeToo era, every woman has heard countless horror stories about people who failed to screen their date before meeting them in person. On Bumble, where we message first, I believe it is a simple ask that you show us some of your non-murderous personality before we shoot you a text.
However, as the old idiom goes, you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him put in effort into his dating profile. The following is a list of answers to Bumble prompts from 20-25 year old Canberran men that I simply do not know what to do with:
Guys, I understand that this casts a wide net and all, but maybe pick an additional prompt?
Who’s seeking attention? A loving partner? A wolf in sheep’s clothing? Three kids in a trench coat?
Wow. You should write that down, somewhere else.
Still not how that works!
Rita, your son is negging girls on Bumble.
Not fish? There’s a fish in your profile, that’s the only reason why I ask.
Poor maths skills aside, this man managed to not talk about himself at all, while still telling me everything I need to know. Thanks, James!
Many seem to believe all that’s needed to get in the door is a few feet, so to speak. Might want to compare notes with yourself there, my guy.
Also found: No less than 8 men answering the question “Quickest way to my heart?” with “Fist through the chest.” I laughed the first couple of times, then proceeded to wonder why so many guys chose the most vulnerable prompt, just to shrug off the answer. I’ll leave you to your own deductions.
And to conclude the symphony of mediocrity that was my overall Bumble experience: Enter, a single man, with a single fish. No prompt or shirt in sight. The custom bio holds one sentence, poignant in its audacity – ‘Don’t just hit me with hey.’
Connor, baby, it is so hot how you make demands, and yet supply nothing.