Here’s what’s actually happening when dating professionals refuse to criticize the apps: they’re being lazy. They don’t want to alienate a potential audience. They don’t want to seem out of touch or anti-technology. So they soften their message, hedge their criticism, and quietly let a broken culture keep running. Meanwhile, real people (their clients, their followers) are continuing to outsource their love lives to algorithms that don’t care if they ever find what they’re looking for.

Dating in 2026 shouldn’t feel like a second job, but for most people, it does. You’re managing multiple apps, crafting opening messages that walk the line between clever and try-hard, squeezing first dates into an already-packed week, and then doing the emotional labor of showing up as your best self for a total stranger. And that’s before the ghosting, the situationships, and the “what are we” conversations that never seem to land.

San Francisco has always been a city of ambition. It’s where people come to build companies, disrupt industries, and chase big ideas. But somewhere between the product launches and funding rounds, a lot of talented, successful people look up and realize they’re exhausted, burned out, and very, very single.

If you’re reading this from your NoPa apartment at 10pm on a Tuesday after another 12-hour day, wondering when you’re supposed to fit dating into all of this — you’re not alone. And you’re not failing at dating. You’re just trying to date in a city that makes it incredibly hard.