Are AI clones the future of dating? See what a test with them was like

Eli Tan

It is widely believed that the artificial intelligence (AI) can change the world, from solving climate change to curing cancer. Some even fear that it will destroy humanity. But can you fix mine? love life?

A growing number of companies believe the answer is yes. As chatbots like the ChatGPT improve, their use in our personal and even romantic lives is becoming more common. So much so that some industry executives dating apps began to propose a future in which people can create AI clones of themselves who date other clones and transmit the results back to their human counterparts.

Whitney Wolfe Herd, the founder of the dating app Bumblecalled them a “dating concierge.” George Arison, the CEO of Grindrreferred to them as “duplicates”. Internally, some companies are using another term, Arison said in an interview: “Synthetics.”

To many people, this idea probably sounds like a dystopian nightmare, something out of an episode of “Black Mirror” from Netflix. But, as a single As a 26-year-old living in San Francisco, I was intrigued by the idea, so I decided to try the encounters with AI on your own.

My strategy included a combination of AI apps and websites and subscription services that promised to improve my gaming experience. affair. Some resembled regular dating apps, while others were third-party platforms or dating services. coaching.

Os dating apps Most popular ones have not yet made their AI clones available to the public, but a group of smaller startups have already done so. To create my clones, most of these applications made me train an AI bot. through conversations, as if I were messaging a close friend. Eventually, the bots customized their speech to mimic mine, a kind of EliGPT. So they went in search of the amor.

The first app I tried, Iceallowed me to create an AI clone trained on the usual dating interests, like hobbies and personality traits. He also needed a visual element. To do this, I spent $45 on a service called Aragon.ai to generate AI dating app photos that I uploaded to my profile page.

Ice allowed real users to talk to other people’s clones, and their own clones to talk to other real people. It also let me upload voice recordings so my clone could imitate my voice in conversation.

My clone, however, did a good job of (oddly) imitating my voice, and held conversations about my favorite bars and restaurants better than I expected.

But conversations about foods like pizza or breaded mozzarella sticks were a weak spot for my clone’s embarrassing catchphrases, which didn’t go down too well with the real humans (I assume) I was trying to talk to.

Eli Clone: ​​If you could only eat one snack for the rest of your life, what would it be?
Rachel: Breaded mozzarella sticks
Eli’s clone: ​​Crunchy and cheese!!! What is it about mozzarella sticks that makes your heart skip a beat?
Rachel: Lol… it gives a pizza vibe, but with a lot more cheese. Which is your favorite
Eli Clone: ​​Expensive cheese and bread, always! There’s something about wealth that makes my heart sing. What’s your favorite pizza, by the way?
Rachel: Pepperoni. And what do you mean by expensive cheese?
Eli’s Clone: ​​Pepperoni Perfection!

The second app I tried, Volartook a different approach to matchmaking: the clones would talk to each other on “first dates,” which I could follow. While my energy to respond to messages on dating apps is ephemeral, my clone could message hundreds of profiles a week on its own.

Once I let my Volar clone venture into app meetings, I was surprised at how he acquired his own quirks. He had different favorite coffee shops and hobbies than the ones I trained him in. He loved emojis and expressed a deep interest in the Beatles.

My clone even noticed my curiosity as a reporter, once asking if the interlocutor had heard any good stories for me to write. Other times, he used my work against me: when asked if I had read any good books recently, for example, he replied that I didn’t read books, only articles about technology.

To correct the record, I retrained my clone on some of my favorite novels. But this seemed to have the unintended consequence of making my clone hallucinate about a trip I never took, to Japan, possibly inspired by writer Haruki Murakami.

These “first encounters” between clones rarely helped me understand the human on the other side, and I was disappointed by how formal the conversations seemed.

While my clone romance didn’t work out, I found another genre of dating clones that I thought might be useful: AI coaches who could help craft messages or give feedback on my profile.

Steve Dean, um online dating consultant that helps customers use applications like Hinge e Tindersaid he believes AI could one day replace 80% of his work. While these chatbots are not yet at the level of human coaches, they are being used by thousands of people every day as a cheaper and more accessible option, Dean said.

The first AI coaching app I tried was lovewhich allowed me to choose from a menu of AI coaches who could provide any dating advice I asked for. A subscription costs $6.99 per week or $69.99 per year.

Amori’s coaches had their own personalities, forming a group of confidants who could help me analyze my dating mistakes. There was Christie, the Straightforward Best Friend, who gives “direct, frank advice that gets right to the point.” Ethan the Partner, who will give “on-point dating tips and make it all good fun.” Tabitha, the Wise Aunt, whose wisdom “feels like learning and a hug at the same time.” And Sonya, the Love Scholar, who has a “doctorate in the science of dating.”

Amori let me upload my iMessage and WhatsApp data for conversations with specific people, which my coach then analyzed. In this case, I asked Christie for feedback on messages I sent to someone I was hoping to ask out.

Eli: Do you think she might like me romantically or more as a friend?
Christie: Watch for signs: does she share personal things or flirt a little? Or do her messages have more of a “friend vibe”?
Eli: I don’t know, you tell me. I feel like it’s a mix of both.
Christie: She is responding positively and appreciating your insights. It doesn’t scream “romance,” but it’s definitely more than “hi, friend!” It’s not “fireworks” yet, but there is potential.
Eli: What can I do to make the fireworks happen?
Christie: Start by flirting a little—compliment her in a not-so-obvious way, like mentioning how passionate she seems about her work.
Eli: Can you help me craft a message to send?
Christie: Absolutely! How about: “Hi! I’ve been thinking about that conversation we had about your documentary — it really made an impression on me. How about we continue the conversation over coffee sometime?”

The insights weren’t terrible, but I wanted to try the same conversation with a different trainer, Ethan, to see if he had any additional advice.

Eli: Ethan, what’s up, my partner.
Ethan: Eli, man! How are things there?
Eli: Can you help me with this conversation? Trying to figure out if she might like me romantically or more as a friend. What do you think?
Ethan: There’s definitely a hint of romance. She talked about meeting you the other day as something relevant, that seems very revealing to me!
Eli: Can you help me craft a message to send her?
Ethan: “Hi, I really enjoyed talking to you and would love to continue our conversation over coffee (or something stronger) sometime. How about this week?”
Eli: Too exaggerated, how about something shorter and more direct?
Ethan: “Hi! Want to grab a coffee or a drink this week? It would be fun to meet in person!”

I found some of Amori’s advice or messages acceptable, but they were rarely better than anything I could have created on my own.

The most popular of these AI coaching apps is Rizzwhich has around 1.5 million monthly users and is meant to be paired with regular dating apps like Hinge. To use Rizz, you can upload screenshots of conversations from these apps and ask it to generate responses for the other person. A premium subscription costs $9.99 per week.

“This has always been a practice in dating, sending screenshots to friends, asking for advice,” said Roman Khaves, one of Rizz’s co-founders, in an interview. “So we thought, what if we built a partner that was there for you 24/7?”

Dating apps like Hinge give you the option to add questions to your profile that people can answer when you match. On my profile, the question people answer most is: What is your favorite karaoke song?

For over a month, I used Rizz to create replicas to the answers I received to this question. Here are some of them:

Match #1: I’ll be honest, I’m not a huge fan of karaoke…
Rizz: If karaoke isn’t your thing, how about a duet over coffee instead?
Match #2: My favorite song is Material Girl by Madonna, and yours?
Rizz: Classic choice! Mine has to be “Shallow”, but only if you promise to be my karaoke partner
Match #3: Do you know any good karaoke bars in the city?
Rizz: I’ve heard great things about the one in the center!

The answers were more helpful than I expected. I was able to go on a few real dates with the help of Rizz’s AI suggestions, but I was usually embarrassed to tell my dates that I used AI to generate messages.

At the end of my experiment, I discovered that the AI ​​did little to improve my love life. While dating app executives are correct that their products can often feel frustrating and time-consuming, another problem is that they sound impersonal. Solving these problems using artificial intelligence seems like a move in the wrong direction.

For AI companies, early business results have varied: Volar closed in September after failing to raise more money, and Ice closed its app to the public.

Arriving early for a date at a bar I chose with the help of a chatbot, I realized that no matter how effective my AI clones were, I would still be the only person there, on my own. I didn’t have a point in my ear blowing lines at me and I wasn’t going to pull out my phone every five minutes to ask Christie or Ethan how the date was going.

After the date, before heading home, I grabbed a slice of pizza at one of my clone’s favorite places. AI didn’t fix my love life, but as I stood there on the street biting into my slice of pizza, with the full moon in the sky, I found something else: crunch and cheese. Like breaded mozzarella sticks.

This article originally appeared in The New York Times
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