How politics is shaping Hinge, Bumble and Tinder

For Yashasvi, the trigger for change was when students led by the Cockroach Janta Party hit the streets. He was part of what he calls “a dawning of political consciousness on the janta”. “The overall approach towards dialogue at the protests started to matter a lot to me,” he says.

As he now scrolls through his phone wearing a Manchester United jersey, Yashasvi says he can no longer ignore the politics of someone he is romantically interested in. Drawing a parallel with how fans of rival football-playing teams are unlikely to be happy together, he says, “I have supported Manchester United since I was eight years old — because my brother did. If my partner supports the same team, it will be nice. There is only so much fun in enjoying when your partner is sad because their team has lost.”

However, he is well aware that belonging to a different “political team” is a whole other ballgame and only harder to reconcile with. “I haven’t had to think about what the consequences of my partner supporting or not supporting Manchester United are — how it might impact me, my future, and the people around me. Political ideology, in that sense, is different. It reveals a lot about the kind of person someone is and what that person accepts,” he says.

Dating apps are increasingly becoming spaces where young people openly signal their political views and values. (Image: Unsplash)

Not ‘Conservative’, ‘Moderate’, ‘Not Political (or apolitical)’ or ‘Other’ — he finds ‘Liberal’ the only Hinge political filter that kind of applies to him. For Yashasvi, a ‘liberal’ is someone who is open-minded and does not believe that there is only one way of living, one that can be dictated.

Karan (name changed), a 25-year-old chartered accountant who lives in Gurgaon, has also taken a similar route to dating. He solemnly admits to “ghosting” a woman for whom he had briefly nursed feelings over nothing other than her political views. “The protesters are foreign-funded,” she had texted during a discussion on the CJP’s Jantar Mantar agitation, immediately changing how he perceived her.

Shaking his head, Karan shows the screenshot of a line that was widely circulated during the recent protests on his phone: “Neta toh rapist bhi chalenge, protesters full sanskaari hone chahiye (Politicians can be rapists. Protesters can only be completely traditional).”

He says that earlier, he did not care whether someone held a political opinion different from his, considering it could lead to meaningful discussions and end in ‘let’s just agree to disagree’. “But all the heated arguments made me realise I really can’t be in a relationship with someone who has polar opposite political views. It will lead to unnecessary arguments,” he says, impatiently throwing his phone aside.

Karan now believes that similar political views ensure compatibility and pays close attention to what women say to understand their political leanings early on. It is, he says, a matter of what the future will look like.

“I feel like I might be okay with different political leanings, but I will not be okay with people disrespecting human rights and turning their eyes away from police brutality. If they ignore that, what will they do if it happens to us in the future?”

Hinge, Bumble and Tinder users are using political preferences as another way to assess compatibility with potential partners. (Image: unsplash)

On how politics is shaping the online dating world, Daniel Kim, Senior Vice President, Tinder Asia, Match Group, shares the data: “Three out of four Gen Z say it’s important to date someone who shares their political views and civic values; 60% prefer dating someone who votes; 1 in 3 find a match more attractive if they take elections seriously.”

According to Kim, this is no surprise. “Ultimately, compatibility is becoming less about ticking every box and more about finding someone with whom you can be open about what matters to you,” he says.

For Apurva, founder of the matchmaking website The Second Date, the language on dating apps may be new, but the yearning to find political or social alignment with a romantic partner isn’t. Under the initiative she runs, people are connected based on the dating pitches they send her.

“I don’t think a lot of people used to think that political ideologies should match. Or at least not in these exact words. But we were always looking for people who valued the same thing,” she says.

Of the more than 105 applications she has received from Bengaluru so far, 12 per cent mentioned ideology as either a deal-breaker or a preference. She recalls one of the pitches as saying, “Politically, I am a lib-left. That means I am for having social welfare schemes like government housing, schools and hospitals, and I’m happy to pay taxes (as if we’re not already) for the same social safety net for everyone…To simplify, I want a country like Norway and not failed states like Cuba and the USSR.”

To be or not to be political

Other youth on dating apps are not too happy with what they see as increasing rigidity around political filters. Yogi, 30, a central government employee from Shimla, identifies as Right-leaning but has not mentioned that on his Hinge profile. “I am not a politician. For most sane and logical people, these things keep changing and evolving,” he says.

He goes on to share his experience of meeting a woman through Hinge, followed by a week of “free-flowing” conversations on travel and writing. However, upon learning of his political leanings, she stopped seeing him. She had been identified as Centre-Left on her Hinge profile.

“If you want to base the connection on someone’s ideology, I’m not going to hold you back. But if the conversation had gone further, I would have said it’s not like everyone else (apart from the Right) is my enemy. If open for discussion, this could have been solved,” he says.

For some young daters, shared political and civic values have become as important as interests, lifestyle and personality. (Image: Unsplash)

This experience, he believes, is emblematic of a larger problem. “They (Left-leaning people) want to categorise everyone on the opposite spectrum as villains… They won’t try to get to know you.”

Pointing out what makes him different, he says, “I am a believer, and I am a Hindu, so that is my ethics and life. But it’s not like I want my partner to be as religious as I am.”

Deependra (name changed), a 24-year-old lawyer who describes himself as Right-leaning, also feels that people on the Left are rigid. “The moment they get to know that I’m Right-leaning, they start putting me in a bracket,” he says.

 

Deependra identifies as politically “neutral” on his dating profile. Left or Right, he says, is not a ‘fixed’ approach to life. “If a person is up for conversations and arguments on a fact-to-fact or situation-to-situation basis, I think it’s fine.”

What matters to him much more than political filters is finding someone from his own religion, and someone who is a nationalist. Explaining, he says, “Say I support a nationalistic view while my partner takes a liberal view to public policy issues or the Sabarimala case. We might reach an impasse, and it might create a problem vis-a-vis how I look at that person.” No mere political disagreement — he calls such differences “fundamental”.

For some users, questions of caste, religion and social values can matter more than political labels when choosing a partner. (Image: Unsplash)

Aisle, another popular dating app, suggests the conversation does not have to be explicitly political — it does not include political filters and is instead structured around lifestyle, family and travel preferences. Chandni Gaglani, Executive Vice President & Head of Aisle, says, “Broader social values, such as gender equality, work-life integration, and progressive family dynamics, often act as important compatibility filters… We are seeing a significant generational shift where personal alignment overrides rigid caste or community boundaries, as singles seek a middle ground where love comes first, but family and cultural fit remain respected.”

Religion itself is not a filter for Ibrahim, a model and performer who identifies as a “Liberal” on his Hinge profile, but what has made religion harder to separate from dating, according to him, is the political climate around interfaith relationships.

Ibrahim, a contestant in Date 2 Remember: Mr & Miss India Runway Model, an MTV show, was partnered up with a Hindu woman in the show. He was dating a woman outside the show at the time. His partner in the show died by suicide a year after the programme had wrapped up — which brought not only a period of grieving for Ibrahim but relentless social media attacks in his direction.

“I was the most scared person… People would come at me and accuse me even though her suicide stemmed from her own personal reasons,” he says. And even as he says that it doesn’t matter if a partner “is not Muslim”, the label of religion continues to follow him everywhere he goes.

For instance, every time he posts lifestyle and fashion reels with his friend, a Hindu woman, hate and abuse are quick to follow. “I keep getting comments of ‘love jihad’ from ghost accounts. She doesn’t care, and neither do I, but these comments are always there,” he says.

⠀Political disagreements are increasingly influencing how young people approach relationships and long-term compatibility. (Image: unplash)

“When the world becomes increasingly polarised on questions of religion, migration, political ideologies, interfaith relationships go in both directions — there is both an avoidance and insistence on interfaith relationships. The question is of degree or proportion,” says Parul Bhandari, a sociology professor at the University of Cambridge. “If the status quo is to insist on religious boundaries on marriage, there is every possibility that there will be a slow and growing insistence to challenge these societal expectations.”

When it comes to politics, Ibrahim does not want to be with someone who is apolitical — they should care about the world. Additionally, someone who is Right-wing “would be difficult for him”. “They might use religion as a weapon. The kind of things they say about religion and human beliefs…”

The problem with being apolitical

As politics takes centre stage across dating apps, religion and caste remain at the core of many couples breaking up — something that demonstrates how political filters are still inadequate when it comes to solving the question of compatibility in India.

Nothing could be more representative of this phenomenon than the story Dimple (name changed), a 22-year-old Dalit woman from a village near the Haryana border, pursuing her master’s in history at Delhi University, shares. For her and her former boyfriend, everything had appeared to be on the right track. Both had been deeply religious, staunch supporters of the government and in love.

Then in 2024 came a series of sexual assaults on women, and Dimple started redrawing her political positions and, around the same time, moving towards identifying as an atheist. Her then boyfriend’s casual response during a discussion on the successive incidents of sexual assault — ‘Women do this too’ — marked the beginning of a downward spiral of their relationship. “I got really triggered,” Dimple says, talking about that first major fight. “Then came more arguments around caste, women, labour.”

Dating apps are increasingly becoming a space where young people openly assess political views before pursuing a relationship. (Image: Unsplash)

An upper-caste man, he told her that his parents had never taught him about caste. “He said, you have filled my mind with these things, and you always only talk about these things,” says Dimple, recalling what the breaking point was for her. “I can tolerate other people who argue with me on reservation or caste discrimination — but not my boyfriend. I want him to understand me and my life and my experiences.”

Considerations about their shared future started bothering Dimple. “I make food for people I love. Now say I make a lot of food for his family, and they refuse to eat the food made by my hand, because of my caste, then what?”

After their eventual ‘break-up’, Dimple started checking the political filter on dating apps, just in case it gave her more clues about a profile.  Professor Bhandari says, “Caste and religion continue to be important markers of compatibility. It is to be noted that often political filters work in tandem with these markers. To that extent, these are not separate or disparate categories, rather they interact with one another.”

For Dimple, being Left, Right or moderate is not detrimental, but what is “undoubtedly worse” is having extreme views. Ideology, however, doesn’t automatically erase human prejudice, she holds. On both the Right and the Left, there are people who harbour ingrained hatred towards some sections of society, she believes.

On the other hand, her lived experience has shown that the chances of people from marginalised communities being on either end of the political spectrum are nearly the same. So, for her, it is not easy to swipe right or left depending on avowed labels.

Other women, such as Sheetal (name changed) from Guwahati, avoid those who identify as ‘apolitical’ on dating apps. “To be apolitical, you first have to be wilfully ignorant, and it takes considerable entitlement. Either you have a lot of resources and what’s happening to the common masses does not concern you, or you are benefiting from their exploitation,” she states. “Everything is politics, from the fabric you’re wearing to the breath going into your body. It takes privilege to be apolitical.”

As political and social divisions deepen, young Indians are increasingly weighing ideology alongside family, religion and community while dating. (Image: Unsplash)

At the same time, Sheetal, who is in her late 20s, knows the limitations of these terms. She matched with a politically ‘moderate’ man on Hinge. But when she eventually told him that she was from a tribal community in the Northeast, she sensed his enthusiasm for her ebb. She still doesn’t know if considerations of caste changed his mind.

Mohaneesh, founder of Community, India’s first same-caste matrimony app focusing on the Dewangan, Koshta, Koshti, and Devang communities in parts of central and western India, suggests marrying someone within the same community. “Your partner is more likely to be familiar with the community’s culture, traditions, language and way of life. It can also help preserve the community’s cultural identity and traditions for future generations,” he insists.

After her experiences on dating apps, Sheetal is now considering just that — an arranged marriage within her community, as her family has been suggesting. “Based on my observations, caste and religion are more important. Political ideologies can be altered with dialogue, but caste and religion become the primary filters for marriage,” she rues.

Sheetal had once preferred dating apps over matrimonial platforms because she believed they allowed people to make choices without their families’ involvement. But not even political filters appear to have helped.