Did Millennials Ruin Dating for Gen Z? A Podcast Debate on Apps, "Explorationships," and Opting Out

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Overview

The episode opens with a half-joking confession: millennials ruined dating. They built the dating apps "we all know and hate," normalized fast-food-style swiping and constant texting, and now some of them host podcasts about healthy love. One host compares it to the makers of OxyContin opening rehab clinics. Stephen objects that he didn't create a dating app. The joke sets up the real question: is Gen Z approaching romance differently from millennials, and if so, is that a healthy correction or a new kind of avoidance? The hosts, Matthew Hussey, Stephen Hussey and Audrey Hussey, are sympathetic to Gen Z's frustration. They are skeptical of some of the explanations offered for it.

22 min read
1:36

Questioning the "Deprioritizing Romance" Narrative

Stephen brings research suggesting Gen Z is "at the tip of the spear" of a shift away from romantic relationships. On this account, finding a partner is no longer a primary goal. Young people are instead prioritizing mental well-being, career dreams and friendships.

One host interrupts to ask whether this can be taken at face value. If Gen Z were saying that dating culture is toxic and they would rather put their energy into real-life interaction, that would have "real legitimacy." But so much of Gen Z's life happens on their feeds. Stepping back from dating to "focus on mental health," then turning to the phone, isn't really focusing on mental health.

The same host adds that Gen Z has good reason to reject the culture. Millennials grew up without the apps and watched them arrive in adulthood. Gen Z has always had them. The host counts more than dedicated dating apps here: Instagram, TikTok, Snapchat and anywhere else people can interact.

3:46

Before the Apps: MSN Messenger and Three-Way Calls

Stephen asks what the first dating app was. The hosts agree it was more or less MSN Messenger, along with chat rooms. You would find the online handle of someone you fancied from school, maybe through a group chat. One host remembers talking all night on MSN with a crush and then being too shy to do more than say "All right" at school the next day. Another admits to changing their display name to cryptic lyrics during hard times so people would ask what was wrong.

Stephen recalls discovering three-way calling on a landline. The call gave you cover: three people were chatting, but you were really only there for one of them. In hindsight, Stephen suspects the friend on the call was thinking the same thing. Both boys believed they were having a moment with the same girl, who was enjoying the attention from both.

The point of the reminiscing is that Gen Z had none of these in-between stages. They had dating apps and social media from the start.

5:50

Novelty for Millennials, Skepticism for Gen Z

The hosts suggest that growing up with the apps may make Gen Z more skeptical of them. Gen Z knows "this game inside out." For millennials, the apps were a novelty: you could meet someone in your pajamas without leaving home. To show Gen Z what that felt like, one host suggests watching a 60-year-old leave a 40-year marriage and open a dating app for the first time. Everything seems fresh and unbelievable.

Millennials also remember the time before the apps, and the hosts caution Gen Z against romanticizing it. Some Gen Z users on forums talk about the "heyday" of meeting people in real life. In practice, it meant going out, spotting someone across a room, walking over and starting a conversation.

The hosts disagree briefly about who found it harder. One says it was easy for women because men did the approaching. Another argues it may have been harder for women in some ways. Women were conditioned not to make the first move, and Bumble later gave them a way to do so. Someone replies that women are still conditioned not to make the move. The first host agrees but says there has been some progress. The conclusion is that the old system was "kind of horrible for men and women." Women waited passively to be chosen, or believed they had to. Men felt they had to keep approaching strangers and knew the awkward walk back across the room after being rejected.

9:15

Why Gen Z May Be Giving Up

Even so, the hosts think Gen Z may be giving up in a way millennials didn't. Their explanation is that the early app culture was different. People still came from a world where they wanted to invest in each other and understood the value of a connection. In the hosts' view, that has eroded, and today's apps suffer from a lack of intentionality. This has led to something close to a rejection of dating among Gen Z.

Stephen cites several figures. A survey by a dating app he names as Flur, while admitting he isn't sure what it is, found that 70% of Gen Zers find dating apps "lame." Only 6% want the apps to stay as they are, and four in ten said they were tired of endless swiping. A Hinge 2024 report found that many Gen Z daters list fear of rejection and fear of being "cringe" among their top concerns.

10:43

Relationship Anarchy, "Explorationships," and an Allergy to Vulnerability

Stephen then describes trends reported in think pieces. He asks Gen Z viewers to say whether these descriptions are accurate.

Gen Z is said to be more likely to end up in situationships. Some embrace "relationship anarchy," which means declining to chase "Disney fairy tale love" and nurturing all their connections instead. A deep soul connection might be with a roommate or a friend as easily as a romantic partner.

Another term is "explorationships": no labels at first, just seeing what happens. Stephen places it between pure avoidance, where nobody discusses the relationship, and love bombing. The idea is to explore the connection without pressure to define it. Another host notes that "players have been selling that for years." Stephen agrees but says there is now a word for it that makes it seem acceptable.

Stephen's reading is that all of this is hedging. People don't want to be rejected, look cringe or be too vulnerable. He describes "a kind of allergy to vulnerability" and a reluctance to make romance a big thing when so much could lead to disappointment.

A host connects this to an earlier episode about millennials and older people leaving dating altogether because they're tired of dealing with it. Many women commented on how peaceful that felt. The Gen Z version is different: they aren't necessarily leaving dating, they're leaving behind any expectations within it.

12:54

Is This Really a Generational Difference, or an Age Thing?

One host wonders how much of this is simply about age. In their twenties, this host was far more worried about seeming too intense, too keen or uncool than about not finding love. Later, the time pressure becomes real. At 25, 26 or 27, and even at 28 or 29, you don't need to bring the same intentionality. The host suggests the pattern may be cyclical.

The same host remembers rejecting the apps in their twenties out of shame, because it felt embarrassing to be seen looking for love online. With age, that bravado faded. The apps became just another way to meet someone in pursuit of a goal that mattered. The host believes many people in their twenties are still in the phase where the priority is not being rejected or embarrassed, and they carefully manage how they come across.

Stephen adds that younger people tend to fixate on the process. They want the meet-cute of reaching for the same cup of coffee, or a relationship that feels like a '90s sitcom such as Friends. With age, the question shifts from how it starts to what it will feel like to be with the person and whether you can build a life together. The hosts agree this looks like an age effect.

15:28

Human Nature and the Imbalance of "Let's See Where It Goes"

One host argues that the explorationship idea is somewhat "abstracted from human nature." People did not stop being territorial or jealous in the last 15 years. Anyone who likes someone probably starts hoping, within about five minutes, that the other person won't date anyone else.

The host describes a common imbalance. Two people can both say "let's see where it goes" for opposite reasons. One wants to keep their options open. The other doesn't want to lose the person and thinks that phrase is the right thing to say. The host grants that some people take things slowly because they are confident and still deciding whether they like the other person. But once you know you like someone, hearing that they're dating someone else will probably hurt.

Another host replies that it depends on what you're prioritizing. If your north star is appearing cool, avoiding rejection and seeming in control, you can talk yourself into embracing explorationships, even adopting the other person's excuse as your own. A third point follows: this requires staying disconnected. You have to work at not connecting with the person. The host who raised the age question finds this a key insight. Twenty-somethings often date while disconnected, more tied to ego and self-image than to the value and urgency of meeting someone. If people don't find what they want within the time frame they're comfortable with, they start dropping those rigid specifics and actually connecting, because it has become a priority.

18:53

Performative Dating on Social Media

Stephen describes a TikTok trend of people showing off their dates, meaning the experience rather than the person. The message is "look how wined and dined I am" and "look at the princess treatment." In one video, a woman in London told viewers not to believe the bad press about "finance bros." Her first date with one was at what Stephen describes as a two-Michelin-star restaurant in Mayfair. The man ordered champagne for her without asking, and later a soufflé.

Stephen's objection is that this proves nothing. Nobody ever claimed finance bros don't spend money. Another host compares it to filming a VIP table in a club as five bottles of champagne with sparklers arrive, and then praising the men's generosity. The hosts wonder whether such posts are sincere or just bids for likes.

One host says photographing a first date would be strange. Another suggests that a man who spends that much wants to be seen doing it, so her filming and posting it fulfills his ambitions. The hosts joke that this is another way millennials ruined dating: their reality TV, such as Jersey Shore and Love Island, taught people to turn dates into reality shows. The serious point is that extravagant first dates can become a performance of desirability and "great standards" without meaning much.

22:18

A Schism in Gen Z Dating, and the Real Problem With the Apps

Stephen sees what looks like a split within Gen Z. He again asks Gen Z viewers to say whether it's true. One side leans toward open explorationships, no labels and a stated focus on mental health. The other rebels against modern dating by going more traditional: slow dating, no dating around, no casual sex, a more conservative approach. Stephen reads both as rejections of whatever the "millennial thing" represents, even if it's unclear what that is. Meanwhile, he says, many millennials he knows are settling down and becoming more intentional, simply wanting someone to be with.

One host then argues that criticism of dating apps is "entirely legitimate" in every generation. In this host's view, the incentives are wrong. The apps aim to maximize swipes and sign-ups, users are encouraged to keep swiping, and the experience is designed to be addictive and "dopamine fueled." As a result, attention spans for dating collapse. Even while you're with someone, your phone buzzes with other matches. The host argues the system is not built for two intentional people who want a relationship to find each other.

Repeating a metaphor from a recent video, the host describes the apps as putting people who want real relationships in a mixer with people who only want to hook up, shaking it, and celebrating the few relationships that form by chance. That process also produces "an enormous amount of pain and mismatched intentions," toxicity and bad behavior.

25:26

Announcing Sync

This critique leads into the hosts' own project. For about nine months, they say, they have been building Sync, which they call their "audacious attempt" to give daters what they deserve. They stress that it is not a dating app but a matchmaking app, described as "the world's most intelligent matchmaker in your pocket," powered by AI.

As they describe it, Sync is voice-first. It asks users questions and aims to learn their preferences and compatibility better than users consciously know them. The distinction they draw is between what we want and what we actually need. It would get to know every user equally well, aiming for "deep compatibility," and screen for people who are serious and intentional about relationships.

They emphasize that the project is at an early stage. It is launching first to a small group in New York City as a test city. The hosts expect things to need fixing and plan to experiment with early users. The plan is to get it right there and then expand to more cities. It is currently free, and people in the test group are grandfathered into free use. People elsewhere can join the waitlist, since the intention is to roll it out everywhere.

Matthew says he has been offered board seats on dating apps, or chances to co-create or co-found them, about once every three months for ten years. He turned them all down because it never felt congruent to join something he didn't fully believe in. The appeal of Sync, he says, is building something from the ground up that has the potential to be better.

29:25

"Freedom Doesn't Always Feel Like Peace"

The hosts then discuss a top YouTube comment from their episode on why women are giving up on men in 2025. A single man wrote that people in relationships often say they envy his lifestyle. Being single has perks, he wrote, but it can be very lonely: "Freedom doesn't always feel like peace. Sometimes it feels like emptiness." He added that he doesn't want to live this way forever and believes being in a relationship is happier.

Matthew calls the comment honest and vulnerable. He contrasts it with a wave of online content glorifying single life, such as posts about a third vacation of the month while friends with kids haven't left the house in weeks. He expected heated debate in the comments on such posts. Instead he found roughly 90% single people celebrating their choice and disparaging family life. He takes this as a sign of algorithmic echo chambers where people glorify whatever path they've chosen or been forced down.

He says he understands the impulse. Wherever he is in life, he looks for role models who make his current path feel exciting. On his retreat, he calls these "emotional buttons." When he was single, his reference point was Star-Lord from Guardians of the Galaxy. He cites the scene in the first film where the character wakes up after a hookup, has no responsibilities and dances his way to the next adventure to "Come and Get Your Love." Audrey confirms that Matthew came out of the film declaring, "I'm Star-Lord."

Matthew distinguishes between using such touchstones to appreciate the good in your situation and insisting that every other path is awful. The second, he argues, creates false dichotomies. He links this to pushback the hosts received on the episode about people leaving dating for the sake of peace. They had said relationships are beautiful and that giving up on that whole area of life may be a little sad. He clarifies that choosing it because it genuinely makes you happier and more peaceful can be empowering. His concern is black-and-white thinking in every direction: "I'm fine with situationships forever," "I'm out of dating altogether," and "being single is the worst thing on earth" are all versions of the same trap.

37:00

A Listener's Feminist Critique

The hosts read an email from a listener, Christina, about episode 313, "Nearly 50% of women will be single by 2035." She agreed with their explanations for rising singleness, such as social media turning people into "dopamine seeking machines" and growing alienation. But she felt the discussion lacked a strong feminist perspective. She was surprised that Audrey was surprised by women saying single life sounded peaceful. Many women stay single, she wrote, because they don't want to "mother immature men." She described the emotional workload in straight relationships as enormous: managing feelings, keeping the connection alive and caring for someone who often hasn't learned to do that himself. Even with "good men," she said, effort often fades once they're comfortable. In her experience, many men mainly want a partner to help them regulate emotionally. She cited studies suggesting men get happier when they marry while women get happier staying single, and argued that straight relationships as usually structured heavily advantage men. She added that men rarely seek relationship advice, which she saw reflected in the podcast's listener base. She also said she had worried the expanded podcast format might feel like a couple flaunting their relationship, but now loved the group dynamic.

One host responds to the claim about men. There is an enormous amount of relationship content for men, the host says, pointing to the millions of views Jordan Peterson gets when he discusses dating or marriage. The podcast also receives many emails and comments from men. The advice may be packaged differently, and goals may sometimes differ, but many men look for this kind of help.

Another host considers Christina's points important and finds the pushback somewhat ironic. Over the years, the podcast has spent a disproportionate amount of time arguing on behalf of that perspective: nobody should feel they need a relationship, and there is nothing wrong with staying single. It has never been a show that simply evangelizes relationships.

The host's central point is that whatever you choose should come from the right place. If you've decided dating is too complicated, you feel fulfilled in other areas and you can genuinely live without it, that's fine. If you're pretending not to want it because you don't believe you can get it in the form you want, the host thinks that is a shame, because it stops you from putting yourself out there. The risk is realizing 10 or 20 years later that you told yourself you didn't want something you actually did, or the reverse. The host says the point all along was honesty about what you want and why you are or aren't pursuing it. The others add that they applaud any woman who finds contentment in her friends, career and life without dating, and that not everyone wants to be in a relationship.

42:21

When the Desire Comes Back

A final caveat comes from one host. Many people who find peace in not dating know that a desire for children may later hit them much harder than it does now. Some decide to have children on their own, which this host also applauds. But some "bury their heads in the sand" about a feeling that, in this host's view, does come.

Children aside, the host argues that the desire for romantic connection often doesn't go away, whatever we tell ourselves about being content. When it returns, the question is how the calculation looks then. Does staying out still seem like peace? Or does it start to look brave to venture out again with openness, "hopefully with higher standards and a better radar for people" than five or ten years earlier? The host leaves this as a question rather than a prescription.

44:25

Steve Sleeves: Real or Fake Gen Z Dating Terms?

The episode ends with Stephen's recurring segment, "Steve Sleeves." Stephen introduces a word game, first called "Love Lexicon" and then "Flirtle," which the others note is not much like Wordle. Stephen reads Gen Z dating terms, some real and some invented, and the others guess.

According to Stephen, the real terms were:

  • Banksying: a partner who has decided to leave makes a quiet retreat instead of saying so.
  • Kittenfishing: a milder catfishing that stretches the truth in a profile without using fake photos.
  • Monkey barring: letting go of one person only after grabbing the next. The hosts recall using this term in their twenties.
  • Sneaky link: a secret casual hookup.
  • Soft launch: showing a partner in Instagram stories without a full reveal.
  • Shreking: lowering your standards in the hope of finally being treated well. The hosts call this one very mean.

Stephen's inventions were "toastering" (keeping someone warm without ever heating things up into a relationship), "IHOP-ing" (being taken after a sleepover to the basic breakfast spot where he clearly takes every date), "airplaning" (talking about trips together that never get booked), "chairing" (keeping someone around as comfortable "emotional furniture") and "pancaking" (a romantic night on a thin, spongy mattress followed by pancakes at IHOP). While discussing "chairing," the hosts mention that the real term is "cushioning," which means keeping someone around as a backup while in a relationship. One host argued that IHOP-ing could be romantic, since taking a date to your local greasy spoon feels personal. Another rejected "pancaking" on the grounds that nobody would tell friends "he's pancaking me." The hosts sign off by joking that listeners should email them with the subject line "Pancaking."