Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Catfish, or, reasons to feel good about yourself: online deception and dating in the digital age

It’s no secret that I have an embarrassing love for reality TV. I tend to adore trashy shows in which 20-somethings are drunkenly hanging out in hot tubs and punching each other in the face. I live vicariously through these people as I slave away on readings and papers, thinking, “Where in my life did I go so right that I would never end up on this show?” (Because I definitely have the potential to survive a bar fight with someone like JWoww.)


Nev Schulmann, Catfish host, and a literal catfish

But this fall, one reality show caught my eye, and not just for the shock value. Catfish: The TV Show chronicles young women and men who have “fallen in love” over the internet, but have never met face to face. And, more often than not, have fallen for a big fat lie. Out of the ten episodes that have aired thus far (the season finale is next Monday, Feb. 18), nine of the lovers have been catfished (that is, misled about someone’s identity). As you can imagine, these potential romances don’t end happily—especially not when football-bro Tyler finds out that the “love of his life” Amanda is actually Aaron. Or when Sunny, a sweet sorority sister expects hunky model Jamison to propose to her and is instead greeted by Chelsea. 

Matt & Kim

Not all the reveals are so dramatic—for example, in episode three, Matt was afraid to show Kim current pictures of himself because he currently weighs around 500 pounds. His Facebook featured photos of him from high school when he was much slimmer. So he wasn’t really lying, right? Or Trina and Scorpio in episode two. Trina thinks she’s meeting this hot exotic dancer named Scorpio. Really, she meets Lee, a sweet man who is just way too shy to put himself out there.
 
The question remains: are these people lying? Sure, they are using fake photos, sometimes even fake names, but they are still projecting their personality. (Well, except for “Mike” who was really an evil witch named Mhissy who for some great reason I’m sure, spent two years of her life deceiving Jasmine.) And when the couples meet, this sentiment shines through—“well I know I look different, but I’m still me!”

I think most people’s reaction to this would be to say yes absolutely these people are lying. But… isn’t every Facebook profile in some sense a lie? When you and your best girlfriend decide it would be funny to be “Facebook married,” aren’t you lying?

My Facebook profile is just a glorified representation of who I want people to think that I am. For example, the last place I checked in was Tryon Creek Bar. I’ve only been there once, and I was only there for maybe an hour, but I still checked in—because I wanted people to know. I have tons of tagged photos and I’d say that if you looked through them, you’d get a pretty good idea of what I look like, but wouldn’t I still look different in person? What if I made my profile picture a photo of Taylor Swift? To me, it seems obvious that no one would believe that was me, but can we assume that everyone would recognize that?

Maybe I’m reaching a bit, but I think people are far too quick to draw assumptions about these catfishers. When you really think about it, we are all catfishers, standing around some digital pond fishing for people we want to impress with our Internet presence.


In general, it seems that people are quick to denounce online dating, stigmatizing it. But how many of you have OkCupid profiles? Trust me, I know you do, because when I helped my housemate make one last weekend I saw all of you on there. Sure you “just have it, don’t use it” but it is still there. And when you really think about it, haven’t we all “met someone” online? What’s more, haven’t we all met someone “in real life” that we originally interacted with online (I’m looking at you, people who took part in the pre-matriculationFacebook groups)?

As someone who has met three of my SO’s on the Internet, I’m a huge proponent of online dating. I’m too straight up for all this, “does he like me, will he be at the party?” crap.  Online dating, for me, has allowed me to represent myself in a way that I can control and I can filter the people that seem to be interested in me. A year after deleting my OkCupid profile, I am still happily committed to someone I met on that site. Neither of us lied, but maybe we’re a minority.

True life: I met Christian online and he was not a creepy stalker or serial murderer

Still, I wouldn’t blame the liars. Poor Matt, who wants to date a 500-pound guy? In our society—no one, not even Kim. Poor Ja’Mari, he only lied about his name because he was falsely accused of stealing a city bus and didn’t want Rico to know. Sigh. You’ll find love someday guys.

And Catfishing isn't reserved for socially-unaware dolts who can't seem to utilize Skype. I mean, just look at Notre Dame football player Manti T'eo.

I recommend Catfish: The TV Show. Even though the hosts can get pretty annoying and sometimes you just want to yell at the people because how could you be so dumb, it makes you think.

Or, just watch this parody… it is pretty spot on:


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