is one of those extreme reality shows with a premise so far-fetched you can hardly believe it’s “reality,” yet there’s something about it that compels you to watch.
While these brave souls may be the exception in the dating world, the show’s popularity speaks to what may be a growing weariness with today’s dating process.
In his standup comedy and his relationship book , comedian Aziz Ansari likewise marvels at his own parents’ arranged marriage.
I wasn’t sure I had the wherewithal to ensure that I would treat these potential dates as human beings, not as commodities.
But closing the door to online dating left me searching for other ways to meet new people. It wasn’t a new technological trend; it didn’t require me to pay a monthly fee or fill out a profile. I’d always rolled my eyes when well-meaning church ladies suggested setting me up.
Suddenly it becomes easy to reject someone you might connect with in real life based on superficial qualities.
When you’re faced with so many potential matches, you’re tempted to filter people based only on the information on the screen. Perhaps more to the point, that kind of rejection works the other way too.
In previous centuries, the community’s professional matchmaker would help orchestrate relationships between young men and women; these days, the matchmaker—or steps back and lets them get to know each other as they decide whether to pursue marriage.
The couple is expected to keep their families, the community, and the matchmaker updated on the status of the relationship.
As one Jewish matchmaker puts it, “Marriages are made in heaven, but we need matchmakers here on earth.” Stephanie Rische knows what it’s like to be on the receiving end of matchmaking.
She was set up by well-meaning matchmakers on nine blind dates (eight of which were royal flops).
Most of us won’t be set up by a professional matchmaker or get hitched on a high-stakes reality show.