New technologies are making every aspect of our lives quicker and more efficient, including our relationships.  We are currently living in the age of speedy sex and digitised dating, with an estimated 9.1 million people in Britain having used a dating site. The concept of online dating is nothing new. In the past we perhaps disparagingly relegated them to balding bachelors not wanting to take the long walks on the beach at sunset alone. Now, users of internet dating have extended to the young and beautiful, eligible millennials who don’t need to resort to dating apps but rather choose to. Dating apps like Tinder appeal to this demographic. It’s easy to see why – a brief swiping session in your lunch break precludes the need to spend hours in a nightclub sweatily grinding up against a stranger in the vain hope that they might be the one. 

Despite how commonplace online dating has become, people’s opinions regarding the long-term effects of this new approach to finding love remain somewhat polarised. Cynics scornfully denounce the superficial, sterile type of communication endorsed by dating apps, and fearfully anticipate a dystopian future in which fated encounters and romantic chance are nothing but hazy memories from an archaic past. On the other hand, Tinder enthusiasts vehemently insist on the bright and open future of dating that technology enables, where apps are vehicles for meeting a wider range of people than ever before, allowing for a more democratic and sexually liberated approach to finding love. They would argue that romance has not been replaced by technology, rather the means of finding it have increased.

This is the view maintained by anthropologist Helen Fisher, who argued last year in a TED talk that technologies will not change love, they will just change the way we ‘court’. She argues that love is primitive, and the systems involved are ‘not going to change if you swipe left or right on Tinder.’ This may be true, but I cannot help but wonder whether even though technology might not ever be able to change love itself, is it changing the way we love? One approach to answering this question is to examine the development of AI technologies. Our society is fascinated with the idea of robots as human love-objects. Films such as Her and Ex Machina as well as recent series such as Channel 4’s Humans and Netflix’s Black Mirror explore the concept of sentient machines and their relations with human beings. These futuristic sci-fi dramas might seem fantastical, but there is evidence to suggest that the ideas they entertain are not as absurdist as we might think.

Futurologist Ian Pearson released a series of predictions about the future of virtual sex, including that by 2030, most people will have some form of virtual sex as casually as they browse pornography today. Dr Pearson is keen however to dispel concerns that new technologies will negatively affect human relationships. He argues for the way in which AI technologies will actually enable “closer relationships with human beings”. One of these technologies includes “active skin”, which Pearson predicts will come to use in 2030. He explains the concept: “If you’re having really great sex with somebody, you could record the sensations associated with it by having electronic devices connected to the nerves, so they’re recording the use of one or two megabits per second going up that nerve.” This, he argues, will make you a better lover, and so “you’ll be able to get really close to the other person, much closer than you can today.”

“Romance has not been replaced by technology, rather the means of finding it have increased.”

The notion of attraction is key, as it is one step closer to an emotional connection. People have been using vibrators for years, however the stark difference between them and AI technologies lies in the fact that they are not used as an emotional substitute (hopefully).  AI technologies are already being used this way, for example, Robocats, a responsive robotic cat designed by toy maker Hasbro, aimed at combatting loneliness among the elderly. ‘Amy’ is an AI personal assistant used to schedule meetings that is increasingly popular in the UK, and is said to demonstrate ‘exceptional interpersonal skills’ as she conducts extremely polite email exchanges. She is so convincing that people have sent her flowers and chocolates to thank her for her help. Even users who know she is a machine report impulsively responding to her politely. Even on a minor level, we have a tendency to anthropomorphise machines, and this might become concerning as our communication with machines increases.

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It might seem odd to make a link between AI technologies and dating sites, the key difference between them being that the latter is about forming a bond with a real person on the other side of the screen. Nevertheless, they do have a commonality in the way they both use technology as a means of quantifying love. Before you come across your Tinder match, you have broken them down into various categories that you think will increase your chances of compatibility – looks, location, age, and interests. Is this really that different to robots that are designed to satisfy you emotionally according to various categorisations? Perhaps we are not yet at the stage where we are falling in love with robots, but what we are beginning to do is piece apart what love means to us, identifying exactly what we want from a relationship. If what it comes down to is primarily sex and companionship, then who’s to say that machines won’t be the perfect solution to happiness?