The concept of Married at First Sight entices the viewer instantly: people get married to complete strangers? No swiping, no awkward small-talk, no dead-end dates – just instant commitment. For people experiencing dating app fatigue, this feels like a shortcut to a happily-ever-after.
At first glance, it appears to be a much-needed antidote for modern dating. But as the episodes progress, it’s clear MAFS is built on the very same flaws as the apps.
After exchanging hand-written vows, the newlyweds are whisked away on a romantic honeymoon, before fast-tracking their relationship by moving in together. Each week, the couples are faced with new tasks and challenges designed to help them fall in love. However, this is usually when reality creeps in, and soon emotions are pushed to extremes – where conflict and tears become content.
When Married at First Sight began in Denmark in 2013, it seemed like a much-needed solution to dating burnout, when apps like Tinder and OkCupid were taking off. Now a global franchise, each series attracts millions, with the latest Aussie series amassing over 2.2 million viewers. Thousands apply every year hoping to meet their ideal husband or wife, yet the production only boasts a measly 8.5% success rate, raising the uncomfortable question: are participants really searching for true love, or just chasing their five seconds of fame?
The likeness is hard to ignore. We’ve been trained by dating apps to assess potential partners in seconds, and much of this logic is mirrored on our screens. Reality TV thrives the same way that apps do: we crave stimulation. The drama of both worlds has become addictive, whether it’s the chaos of a MAFS dinner party, or a new match on Hinge. We’ve grown to have short attention spans, our dating lives ruled by instant gratification.
Reality dating shows have multiplied, with new series cropping up everywhere – Love is Blind, Too Hot to Handle, and Love on the Spectrum to name a few. People want to see drama, and real-life dating is the hottest way to see it. We can watch other people’s relationship problems unfold from a safe distance. After a long day of lectures, putting your feet up to enjoy a bit of reality TV feels like easy escapism, and Married at First Sight is no exception.
But this rise in entertainment has turned romance into performance. These strangers are being watched, judged, and analysed – sound familiar?
MAFS has seen it all, from cheating scandals and online bullying to verbal abuse and even someone punching a wall. As a ‘social experiment’, these factors undermine its credibility (and ethics) but as television, they certainly boost ratings. We’ve grown to love it for its drama, not its authenticity. Modern dating is already in shambles, and MAFS reflects the chaos back to us. Like apps, singletons are matched based on superficial qualities, and, as the data shows, this isn’t successful. The ‘experts’ offer occasional wisdom, but the experiment proves that letting strangers (or algorithms) choose our partners based on science might not be the best formula.
The series feeds a new kind of performative dating culture. In the age of technology, we seek validation through our screens. Much of this feels familiar when watching MAFS, especially as the episodes progress and we see how quickly some couples are willing to call it quits – echoing the same issues of instant gratification that come with apps like Hinge and Tinder. Do we genuinely want to find the one? Or have we become addicted to endless swiping, and receiving meaningless attention from strangers?
Ultimately, it’s clear Married at First Sight won’t fix modern dating or replace dating apps we claim to hate. The experiment is almost destined to fail, but it certainly captures the mess of modern romance, even if it never quite solves it.
