Frank, Lily

Klincewicz, Michał

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Full Terms & Conditions of access and use can be found athttp://www.tandfonline.com/action/journalInformation?journalCode=uajb20The American Journal of BioethicsISSN: 1526-5161 (Print) 1536-0075 (Online) Journal homepage: http://www.tandfonline.com/loi/uajb20Swiping Left on the Quantified Relationship:Exploring the Potential Soft ImpactsLily Frank & Michał KlincewiczTo cite this article: Lily Frank & Michał Klincewicz (2018) Swiping Left on the QuantifiedRelationship: Exploring the Potential Soft Impacts, The American Journal of Bioethics, 18:2, 27-28To link to this article:  https://doi.org/10.1080/15265161.2017.1409833© 2018 The Author(s). Published withlicense by Taylor & Francis© Lily Frank andMichał KlincewiczPublished online: 02 Feb 2018.Submit your article to this journal Article views: 260View Crossmark dataCiting articles: 1 View citing articles Swiping Left on the QuantifiedRelationship: Exploring the PotentialSoft ImpactsLily Frank, Eindhoven University of TechnologyMichał Klincewicz, Jagiellonian UniversityJohn Danaher, Sven Nyholm, and Brian D. Earp’s (2018)fascinating articleon potential ethical objections to the useof quantified relationship technologies contends that“there is no blanket objection to or knockdown argumentagainst” their use (17). Although we agree with this con-clusion and with their plea for further empirical study ofthese technologies, we argue that their discussion of thequantified relationship does not adequately considerpotential soft impacts of quantified relationship technolo-gies (QRT).Relationship, dating, and “hookup” technologies,such as online dating applications and social media, arealready in widespread use and they serve as a sourceof insight about these impacts. Dating applications area particularly suitable example for comparison becauseof their role in mediating intimate relationships andbecause objections to QRT that the authors’ considersignificantly overlap with the kinds of objections thathave been raised against widespread use of datingapps. We focus on a heterosexual use of Tinder, butsimilar comparisons can be made for other apps thattarget other sexual orientations. Conclusions based onour comparisons challenge the authors’ cautious opti-mism about QRT. Instead, these conclusions suggestthat QRT are likely to have negative social and moralconsequences that reverberate far beyond any individ-ual relationship that they involve or facilitate. Theseimpacts merit consideration even if one remains neu-tral, as Danaher and colleagues do, on the goals, value,and limits of romantic relationships in general. Threetypes of concerns are discussed next: (1) opaque algo-rithms; (2) unintended and unanticipated uses; and (3)reification of harmful gender norms.Tinder is an example of the way in which relationshiptechnologies are far from being neutral about the quality ofrelationships that they promote. Tinder’s algorithms favornovelty (the so-called “newbie boost”), facilitating short-term relationships over long-term ones, thus securing itscontinued use by its customers. Other apps do thingsslightly differently, depending on their business model.When the structure of the app is apparent this is not neces-sarily problematic, but the business models that typicallyinform the apps’ algorithms are almost always obscure tousers. Tinder even creates a secret “Elo score” for eachuser, a measure of their desirability. The same is true ofQRT, which would inevitably come with their own algo-rithms, business models, and structures. These structureswill be designed to secure continued customer engage-ment or purchase of upgrades, among other things.Danaher and colleagues acknowledge that the marketingand methods of behavior change that QRT employ maytake advantage of users’ “relationship” insecurities, but,the authors claim, this is not unique to QRT. We agree thatthis is not a unique problem, but it is a problem neverthe-less. In this case, some of the features of QRT that may mat-ter most to their users would remain obscure to them.Consequently, even if users consent to the use of QRT,their hidden structure may change users’ behaviors inways that they do not intend or approve. As with Tinder,one may sign up to use a QRT with one thing in mind andend up doing another, without being aware of it. This is, atbest, disrespectful paternalism. At worst, it is an unwel-comed manipulation, for largely commercial purposes,into what is central to our conception of ourselves, namely,our social relationships and our moral characteristics(Strohminger and Nichols 2013).Online relationship, dating, and “hookup” apps areoften repurposed for other uses. This can take place as aresult of the affordances that are put in the app inten-tionally, such as those that result in gamification in Tinder(Hakala 2013). Happn, a global positioning system (GPS)-based dating app that intentionally uses of gamification toincrease user engagement, asks users to guess which oneof four users that they were spatially near during the dayis their special crush. Some apps allow users to “collect”their matches as if they were virtual playing cards. ItPublished with license by Taylor & Francis. 2018 Lily Frank and Michał Klincewicz.This is an Open Access article distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivativesLicense (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/), which permits non-commercial re-use, distribution, and reproductionin any medium, provided the original work is properly cited, and is not altered, transformed, or built upon in any way.Address correspondence to Lily Frank, PhD, Eindhoven University of Technology, Philosophy and Ethics, Eindhoven, 5612AZ, TheNetherlands. E-mail: L.e.frank@tue.nlThe Quantified RelationshipFebruary, Volume 18, Number 2, 2018 ajob 27remains to be seen whether gamification of dating facili-tates dehumanization and light-hearted cruelty or merelyfacilitates flirtatious play that is already a part of dating.There are also cases of unintended repurposing.Tinder can be used as a dating app and as a meansfor professional networking and self-promotion—forexample, using brief conversations with Tindermatches to promote a party or to find investors fortheir small businesses (Froelich 2014). We can imaginean analogous repurposing given the affordances inQRT. A positively perceived profile of one’s quanti-fied relationship may be used to communicate an abil-ity to maintain a desirable sort of relationship, putbedroom achievements on display, or advertise one’spersonal style, among many other possibilities. Whatis troubling about these afforded possibilities is that apotential employer, colleague, insurance specialist,partner, friend, bureaucrat, marketer, or extortionistcould gain access to what can be sensitive informationand do with it as they choose. With widespread use ofQRT, these affordances would eventually lead to usersbeing pressured to disclose their performance on thevarious dimensions that Danaher and colleagues dis-cuss. Similar pressure is now applied to owners ofsocial media accounts to verify their identities, show-case their ability to network, or advertise their “safe”off-work activities. QRT will similarly contain infor-mation that a variety of stakeholders would find use-ful and may at some point ask for—you have nothingto hide, right?Another likely troubling soft impact of QRT is thereification of harmful gender roles. There are two waysin which QRT is likely to result in this. On the onehand, the previous two likely soft impacts of QRT—obscure algorithms and repurposing—will provide newavenues for bringing harmful gender norms to bear onprivate behavior. On the other hand, there are distinctways in which QRT would further entrench some ofthe most harmful gender norms, which systematicallycause women in particular be harmed. In the world ofdating apps women regularly receive unwelcome pho-tos of male genitalia and face intimidation throughmessages after they reject a potential match. When itcomes to QRT, Danaher and colleagues acknowledgethe “gendered relationship” objection, but argue thatwhether or not bad consequences are created forwomen “depend[s] more on the general social contextin which the apps are developed, as well as on the par-ticulars of the relationships in which they are used”(16). The problem with this answer is that we alreadyhave extensive information on the context in whichthese and other technologies will be used, as well as onthe different ways in which men and women use rela-tionship apps like Tinder (Tyson et al. 2016), and thepicture is not good. Evidence shows that apps are often avehicle for systematic and institutionalized gender-baseddiscrimination, disadvantage, and violence that is insu-lated from the larger community where such behaviorscan be sanctioned. We do not have the luxury of being ableto claim ignorance as to these matters, especially in light ofthe #metoo campaign and revelations of endemic (largely)gender-based harassment. Additionally, there is significantevidence that technologies, especially algorithms, canembody gender, racial, and even metaethical biases of theirdesigners (Hajian et al. 2016; Frank and Klincewicz 2016).QRT are likely to be informed by stereotypical and gen-dered “scripts” of romantic and sexual behavior that aredemonstrably detrimental to both partners’ sexual andpersonal fulfillment (Verbeek 2006). Two of the examplesgiven in Danaher and colleagues’ article illustrate thesescripts: One sex app measures number and g-force ofthrusts, while another, Kouply, codes taking out the gar-bage as a romantic gesture. Of course, QRT could be inten-tionally designed to combat these gendered scripts, butthis seems unlikely, given the extent to which they are cur-rently ingrained in cultural attitudes, institutions, andother technologies.While Danaher and colleagues are cautiously opti-mistic about the value and implementation of QRT,given what we already know about the consequences ofdating and hookup apps, we remain cautiouslypessimistic. &REFERENCESDanaher, J., S. Nyholm, and B. D. Earp. 2018. The quantified rela-tionship. American Journal of Bioethics 18 (2):3–19.Frank, L., and M. Klincewicz. 2016. Metaethics in context of engi-neering ethical and moral systems. AAAI Spring Workshops Techni-cal Reports 2016:208–13.Froelich, P. 2014. Business with benefits: How Tinder and otherdating apps double as career boosters. Fortune, February 13. Avail-able at: http://fortune.com/2014/02/13/business-with-benefits-how-tinder-and-other-dating-apps-double-as-career-boostersHajian, S., B. Francesco, and C. Carlos. 2016. Algorithmic bias:From discrimination discovery to fairness-aware data mining. Pro-ceedings of the 22nd ACM SIGKDD International Conference onKnowledge Discovery and Data Mining, 2125–26. ACM.Hakala, K. 2013. How the gamification of dating apps is changingour sex lives. Nerve. Available at: http://www.nerve.com/love-sex/do-we-still-need-mutual-friendsStrohminger, N., and S. Nichols. 2014. The essential moral self.Cognition 131 (1):159–71. doi:10.1016/j.cognition.2013.12.005.Tyson, G., V. C. Perta, H. Haddadi, and M. C. Seto. 2016. A firstlook at user activity on tinder. In Advances in Social Networks Analy-sis and Mining (ASONAM) 2016: 461–66. IEEE.Verbeek, P.-P. 2006. Materializing morality: Design ethics andtechnological mediation. Science, Technology, & Human Values 31(3):361–80. doi:10.1177/0162243905285847.The American Journal of Bioethics28 ajob February, Volume 18, Number 2, 2018

Swiping Left on the Quantified Relationship: Exploring the Potential Soft Impacts

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Swiping Left on the Quantified Relationship: Exploring the Potential Soft Impacts

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