How beef colonized the Americas
This is the sixth in a series of stories on how factory farming has shaped the US. Find the rest of the series and future installments here, and visit Vox's Future Perfect section for more coverage of Big Ag. The stories in this series are supported by Animal Charity Evaluators, which received a grant from Builders Initiative.
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Vox
6 days ago
- Vox
Giant invasive frogs are wreaking havoc on the West
is an environmental correspondent at Vox, covering biodiversity loss and climate change. Before joining Vox, he was a senior energy reporter at Business Insider. Benji previously worked as a wildlife researcher. On summer evenings in the Midwest, the muggy air comes alive with a chorus of crickets, cicadas, and frogs — especially bullfrogs. Their booming mating calls sound like something between a foghorn and a didgeridoo. As far as we know, summer here has always sounded like this. Bullfrogs are native to most of the Eastern US, from the Mississippi River to the Atlantic Coast. They evolved here. They belong here. I, for one, adored them as a kid growing up in Iowa, and spent countless summer days trying to catch them to get a closer look. What's unusual is that a few states west — into Colorado and on to California — summer nights are similarly marked by the iconic call of the American bullfrog. But here, they don't belong. They're unwanted. And they threaten the very existence of some of the West's other amphibious animals, such as the Oregon spotted frog, which is found only in the Pacific Northwest. An American bullfrog tadpole next to a juvenile northwestern pond turtle. Courtesy of Sidney Woodruff American bullfrogs are not native to the Western US. Humans brought them to the region more than a century ago, largely as a food source. And in the years since, the frogs — which are forest green and the size of a small house cat — have multiplied dramatically, spreading to countless ponds and gobbling up everything that fits in their mouths, including federally threatened and endangered species. Conservation scientists now consider them among the most dangerous invasive species in the Western US, and in the 40-plus other countries worldwide where they've been introduced. That leaves bullfrogs in an unusual position. Invasive species are typically brought in from other countries — Burmese pythons in Florida and spotted lanternflies in New York City come from Asia, for example — but American bullfrogs are, as their name suggests, American. They're both native and invasive in the same country. And the difference of just a few states determines whether we treat them like pests or as an important part of the ecosystem. It's easy to hate bullfrogs. They do cause a lot of damage and, like other non-native species, they're leading to what some researchers call the Starbucksification of the natural world — you find the same thing everywhere you go, which can make ecosystems less resilient. Yet bullfrogs themselves aren't the main problem, but rather a symptom of a much bigger one. How bullfrogs took over the West One reason is that people enjoy eating them. Or more specifically, their legs. In the 1800s, as the human population in the West surged amid the Gold Rush, so did an appetite for frog legs, which were associated with fancy French cuisine. To meet that demand, people collected native amphibians from the wild, like the California red-legged frog. But as those species became rarer and rarer — in part, due to overharvesting, researchers suspect — entrepreneurs and farmers started importing American bullfrogs from the eastern US and tried to farm them. For a time, it seemed like the bullfrog industry might take off. 'Bullfrog legs! Something to tickle the gustatory glands of the epicurean bon vivants,' a reporter wrote in the Riverside Daily Press, a California paper, in 1922. 'Propagation of the bullfrog in this state already has become a successful reality. In the near future, bullfrog farming may be expected to take its rightful place as one of the prominent industries of California.' That never really came to pass. Bullfrog farming proved challenging and financially risky: They take years to raise, they need loads of live food, and they're prone to disease outbreaks, as Sarah Laskow wrote in Atlas Obscura. And for all that trouble, they don't produce much meat. A bullfrog in the water at a golf course in Fort Worth, while the frog leg industry didn't spread, the frogs, of course, did. They escaped from farms and, with other accidental and intentional introductions, proliferated until they were common in ponds, lakes, and other water bodies throughout much of the West, including Arizona, California, and the Pacific Northwest. Now, in some portions of the region, 'you see so many bullfrogs that it's just sort of alarming,' said Michael Adams, an amphibian researcher at the US Geological Service, a government research agency that monitors wildlife. There are no reliable estimates of the total population of bullfrogs in the West, though a single pond can be home to thousands of individuals. Part of what enabled their success is biology: A female bullfrog can lay as many as 25,000 eggs at one time, far more than most native species. But as several researchers told me, humans have also modified the landscape in the West in ways that have helped bullfrogs take over. While western states have rivers and wetlands, permanent warm waterbodies weren't common until the spread of agriculture and the need for irrigation, said Tiffany Garcia, a researcher and invasive species expert at Oregon State University. Now ponds, reservoirs, and canals — which bullfrogs love — are everywhere. 'It's a story of human colonization,' Garcia said. 'Bullfrogs were brought by people settling and industrializing the West, and they are maintained by people who are natural-resource users of the West. They wouldn't be here and survive without us changing the landscape to create these systems where they do so well.' Bullfrogs are often found alongside other non-native species, Garcia said, which typically tolerate landscapes modified by humans. And sometimes they even help each other succeed. Research has, for example, shown that bluegill sunfish — introduced in the West largely for sportfishing — can help bullfrogs survive. Sunfish will eat dragonfly larvae that might otherwise prey on bullfrog tadpoles. 'You can't even consider them invasive species anymore,' Garcia said of bullfrogs. 'You have to consider it an invasive community.' Bullfrogs are bullies Like unsupervised toddlers, bullfrogs will put pretty much anything in their mouths. Mice, birds, turtles, snakes, rocks, other bullfrogs — if it fits, they'll try to eat it. This is a big problem for species that are already rare, such as the Chiricahua leopard frog or the northwestern pond turtle. Bullfrogs are shrinking their paths to extinction. 'They're implicated in the declines, along with habitat loss and drought, of many of our native reptile and amphibian species,' said Sidney Woodruff, a doctoral researcher at the University of California Davis who studies bullfrogs and other invasive amphibians. In May, Woodruff published a study that found that waterbodies in Yosemite National Park that were full of bullfrogs had lower densities of northwestern pond turtles than those without invasive frogs. She also found that where bullfrogs were present, only large turtles could survive. A northwestern pond turtle in Yosemite National Park. Courtesy of Sidney Woodruff 'Our study adds mounting evidence that hatchling and juvenile pond turtle losses to bullfrogs pose a serious threat to pond turtle population persistence,' Woodruff and her co-authors wrote. And where bullfrogs live in communities with other invasive species, native animals often face even greater challenges, said JJ Apodaca, executive director of the Amphibian and Reptile Conservancy, a nonprofit environmental group. Non-native crayfish, for example, are voracious consumers of plants and other habitat features that native animals hide in. So, where you have invasive crayfish, the local fauna will be that much easier for bullfrogs to eat. Invasive bullfrogs may also be spreading diseases. A study published in 2018 linked the arrival of bullfrogs in the West with the spread of a pathogen called chytrid fungus. While the pathogen typically doesn't sicken bullfrogs, it has helped drive the decline and extinction of more than 200 amphibian species globally, including those in the West. Okay, so let's kill all the bullfrogs? No, a bullfrog-killing spree won't fix ecosystems in the West. They're already everywhere, so even if scientists manage to eliminate them from a pond or 10 ponds — which often requires fully drying out the water body and hours and hours of effort — they'll likely come back. 'It's futile,' Garcia said. 'We're not getting rid of bullfrogs. Not really.' Even if we could remove bullfrogs from large areas in the West, ecosystems wouldn't suddenly revert back to some sort of natural state. Bullfrogs are both a problem themselves and a symptom of change — of the large-scale transformation of land in the West. 'There's kind of an irony,' said Brendon Larson, a researcher and invasive species expert at the University of Waterloo. 'We're nurturing these agricultural systems — which are monocultures and non-native species — and then we're turning around and saying we're surprised when a non-native species does well in response to that.' Doing nothing isn't a great option either. Left alone, bullfrogs will continue to replace native species that comprise the ecosystems we depend on, including insects that pollinate our crops and salamanders that can help limit the amount of carbon dioxide entering the atmosphere and accelerating climate change. An American bullfrog in Yosemite National Park. Yosemite National Park Service The best approach, researchers told me, is to prioritize bullfrog control — to get rid of frogs in areas with endangered species or where conservation scientists are reintroducing native species that disappeared. This works. For her study on pond turtles earlier this year, Woodruff and her colleagues caught more than 16,000 bullfrogs across two waterbodies in Yosemite — using nets, spears, air rifles, and other methods — which they then euthanized. It was only after her team shrank the invasive frog population that they detected small, baby pond turtles in those areas. That suggests that, absent bullfrogs, the turtles were finally able to breed and survive, 'providing some hope for turtle population recovery once bullfrog predation pressures are alleviated,' the researchers wrote. Woodruff says she noticed all kinds of other native animals return after clearing out the invasive bullfrogs, including native frogs, salamanders, and snakes. 'The coolest thing to me was that the soundscape changed,' she told me. 'Over time, you actually started to hear our native chorus frogs again.' Managing bullfrogs is complicated, Woodruff says, and especially for her. She grew up in Alabama and Georgia, where the animals are native. She liked hearing them. But now she lives in California, where she's studying how they harm the environment, and so hearing them makes her tense up.
Vox
04-08-2025
- Vox
The incredible global collapse of fur production, explained in one chart
is a senior reporter for Vox's Future Perfect section, with a focus on animal welfare and the future of meat. In just one decade, a longtime fashion mainstay has been relegated to the sidelines of both haute couture runways and bargain clothing racks: fur. In 2014, over 140 million minks, foxes, chinchillas, and raccoon dogs — a small, fox-like East Asian species — around the world were farmed and killed for their fur. By 2024, that number plummeted to 20.5 million, according to an analysis from the nonprofit Humane World for Animals using data from governments and industry. (Disclosure: I worked at Humane World for Animals, formerly known as the Humane Society of the United States, from 2012 to 2017, but I didn't work on fur issues.) The data encompasses the vast majority of animals raised on fur farms, though it doesn't include the number of animals painfully ensnared in traps, which account for a small share of global fur production. It also doesn't include fur from rabbits. The rapid transformation represents a shift in the perception of fur from a luxury good that signals wealth and status to an ethical faux pas. It's perhaps the biggest animal welfare campaign success story of the 21st century, achieved by pressuring major fashion brands to drop fur from product lines and persuading lawmakers across Europe and elsewhere to ban the production and even sale of fur. Covid-19 hastened Europe's move away from fur production, as mink — the species farmed for fur in the greatest numbers around the world — were found to be especially susceptible to the virus, and mink-associated strains spilled back over to infect humans. Economic headwinds and shifting political dynamics in Russia and China, two of the world's biggest fur producers and consumers, helped change the course of the global industry, too. The outlook for billions of animals used by humans every year, in industries from meat production to scientific research, is largely bleak. But the fall of fur shows progress is possible. The brutality of fur farming, briefly explained A lot of factors have contributed to the global decline in fur production, but there's a key reason why it was possible to make progress against the industry. It produces an unnecessary luxury product that is, unlike meat, financially out of reach for most people. And that it's so unnecessary makes its cruelty all the more horrific. Animals farmed for fur are confined in tiny wire-bottom cages that are often stacked atop one another, causing feces and urine to fall through to the animals below them. Farms range in size from a few hundred, to a few thousand, to over 100,000 animals who are typically born in the spring and then slaughtered in the fall or winter. Mink are killed by carbon dioxide gassing, while foxes and raccoon dogs are anally electrocuted. In Finland, some foxes — nicknamed 'monster foxes' — have been selectively bred to have large folds of fat so they produce more fur, which causes a range of welfare issues. A small fur farm in Poland with foxes and raccoon dogs. Andrew Skowron/We Animals Mink crowded into a cage on a fur farm in Sweden. Jo-Anne McArthur/Djurrattsalliansen/We Animals The conditions and practices are terrible enough, but fur farming is especially cruel considering that these are wild, non-domesticated species. In the wild, their home ranges encompass several square miles, but on fur farms, they barely have any room to move around at all, much less express natural behaviors. Mink are semi-aquatic animals, yet have no access to water on fur farms. They also prefer to be solitary, yet they're caged with other minks. Foxes, meanwhile, naturally burrow and create dens where they care for their young, but they can't do so in captivity. These bleak conditions cause the animals to engage in what are called 'stereotypical' behaviors — repetitive motions that are a sign of stress. When caged, mink will pace or bob their heads — even perform somersaults — while foxes might constantly scratch at the corner of their cages in a fruitless attempt to dig and burrow. 'They've literally gone insane in these operations, because they're not fulfilling their natural behaviors,' PJ Smith, director of fashion policy at Humane World For Animals, told me. How animal advocates — and shifting political and economic conditions — put fur out of fashion Today's animal rights movement is largely focused on cruelty to animals raised for meat, milk, and eggs. But in the 1980s and '90s, ending the fur industry was the cause du jour. PETA put the issue on the cultural map, stigmatizing fur by throwing fake blood on runways and recruiting A-list celebrities to wear next to nothing for its 'I'd Rather Go Naked than Wear Fur' campaign. In 1991, The Go-Go's launched PETA's 'I'd Rather Go Naked Than Wear Fur' campaign. Greg Gorman/Courtesy of PETA The impact of that early advocacy, however, is hard to discern; Calvin Klein committed to going fur-free in 1994, while other brands resisted PETA's campaign. US fur sales declined from the late 1980s to the early 1990s, though it's unclear how much of that was attributable to animal rights campaigning. By the late 1990s, animal advocates had largely moved on to other issues, while US fur sales began to recover. At the same time, China joined the World Trade Organization, which opened up its capacity to export fur, while the US's growing prosperity led it to become a major fur consumer. Fur production boomed, and fur trim became a popular lining for winter coat hoods. But some advocates maintained pressure against the industry, and in the 2000s, a few mid-level brands, like Ralph Lauren and went fur-free. Meanwhile, some European countries, including Croatia, Austria, and the United Kingdom, banned fur production. Terrifying undercover investigations into the fur trade — especially one video from a Chinese market in which a raccoon dog is skinned alive — reignited occasional momentum on the issue. In the mid-2010s, Armani, NET-A-PORTER, and Hugo Boss committed to going fur-free. Before then, Smith told me, it was hard to get companies to take meetings with him. And then, everything changed when, in 2017, Gucci announced a fur-free policy. After Gucci, other major brands followed — like Versace, Burberry, Prada, Chanel, and Michael Kors, to name a few. In 2019, California banned fur sales. Around this same time, more countries in Europe banned fur production, which had become a trend that accelerated after Covid broke out. Research found that mink are highly susceptible to the disease, and evidence emerged that mink-adapted viruses have spilled back over to humans. Economic downturns in Russia and China over the last decade, European sanctions against Russia over the war in Ukraine, and China's crackdown on corruption (furs had been a common gift to government officials) likely affected fur sales and production in those countries, too. And as major fashion brands moved away from animal fur, faux fur got a lot better. Until the mid-2000s, 'faux fur was this thing that was acrylic — it looked plastic. Not many people saw it as luxury,' Smith told me. But the political and corporate progress created a 'gap in the marketplace,' he said, which helped startups get funding to create better-looking, higher-quality alternatives. Is the end of fur nigh? That progress appears likely to continue. Switzerland just effectively banned fur imports, and the UK is considering doing the same. In 2023, European activists delivered over 1.5 million signatures in support of a ban on the production and sale of fur to the European Commission, which is currently weighing the measure. Last week, in a major boost for the effort, the EU's food safety agency issued a damning report on the welfare of fur-farmed animals. And earlier this month, the European Commission listed the American mink — which was brought to Europe for fur production — as an invasive species, which will restrict mink breeding and sales in the EU. Otto, a fox rescued from the fur farming industry stands on Piia Attonen's lap, awaiting a treat. Anttonen is the Director of Tuulispää Animal Sanctuary in Finland, an organization that cares for and provides a home for many different kinds of farmed and companion animals. Jo-Anne McArthur/#unboundproject/We Animals But there have also been recent setbacks. In 2019, New York City considered a ban on fur sales, but it didn't pass. Politicians in some of Europe's top fur-producing countries — Finland, Poland, and Greece — have resisted calls for fur bans, too. And there are some still big-name fashion holdouts, including Hermes and LVMH — the company behind Fendi, Dior, and Louis Vuitton. In February, the New York Times reported on a vibe shift around the stigma on wearing fur, though it's unclear whether that helped boost sales — the fashion world's focus has largely revolved around reclaiming vintage and used pelts. And despite the significant progress, 20.5 million animals in fur farms annually means there's still a lot of work to be done. Smith hopes that doesn't lead fellow animal advocates to become complacent and move on to other issues too soon, like what happened with fur in the late 1990s. 'The hardest part is going to be closing out an industry for good,' said Smith. 'It's going to be convincing those final fashion brands and retailers to move away from fur. And it's going to be the case that we need to make to legislators and policymakers that we need to implement policy change,' he said, to 'ensure the future is fur-free once and for all.'
Vox
30-07-2025
- Vox
Most couples used to meet this way. What happened?
Like many women these days, 30-year-old Jude Cohen is over dating apps. So she's decided to relinquish some of the responsibility in finding a partner: 'I'm asking my friends to set me up,' the New York City-based communications consultant says. Late last year, a family friend heeded the call and, without warning, introduced Cohen to a potential date via text. The man lived in her hometown, hundreds of miles away, but she wasn't opposed to long distance. Prior to their date a few weeks later — Cohen was back in town for a wedding — she knew scant about him. She made an attempt to find her date's Instagram but was unsuccessful. The date was fine, she says, and the conversation was 'lovely.' But Cohen just wasn't attracted to her date. Ironically, if he lived in New York, she'd have plenty of friends to set him up with. Still, Cohen is holding out hope for a successful setup. 'I continue to ask my friends to set me up,' Cohen says. 'It was not a deterrent that the first time didn't work out. All in all, it wasn't a bad experience. It's just a part of the numbers game that you have to play to find your person.' Vox Culture Culture reflects society. Get our best explainers on everything from money to entertainment to what everyone is talking about online. Email (required) Sign Up By submitting your email, you agree to our Terms and Privacy Notice . This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply. The setup can feel like a relic of a bygone era of dating. Introducing two friends who might be romantically compatible seems quaint in a time when people can filter through singles based on the most granular qualities on apps. But for most of modern dating, heterosexual couples were most likely to meet their spouse through friends. That is, until the 2010s, when meeting online overtook friend-facilitated introductions, a trend that has only accelerated since then. According to one study, only 20 percent of straight couples met through friends in 2017, compared to 39 percent who met online. Compare that to 1995, when a third of couples met through friends and only 2 percent met online. It's safe to say that the setup is, if not dead, on life support. But as more singles grow frustrated with dating apps and yearn for more organic connection, could a return to the setup be in order? Are singles willing to surrender control in pursuit of a partner? Related Delete your dating apps and find romance offline 'Of all the things I've heard people say they're doing to try to meet people more organically,' says Liesel Sharabi, an associate professor in human communication at Arizona State University, 'getting set up isn't one that I've had people tell me that they're really longing to go back to. For some of them, they probably never experienced it.' From introductions to algorithms Coupling up only became an individual pursuit recently. Historically, choosing a partner was a group affair. Outsiders have had influence on romantic relationships in myriad ways: For centuries, parents the world over have had some degree of control over who their children married (and in some cultures, they still do); a long line of matchmakers worked to connect families in their communities; and friends, extended family, neighbors, coworkers, and other group members all had a stake in who their friends paired off with. A study from 1991 found that when a couple felt their family and friends approved of their relationship, they were more likely to stay together. (It should be noted that study participants were primarily middle-class college students.) The setup comes with clear upsides. If a mutual friend thinks there might be something between two people in their orbit and goes out of their way to make an introduction, that speaks volumes. Knowing this person has been vetted and vouched for in some way is appealing. A setup has built-in accountability, too. Your date may be less likely to be a jerk if they know their behavior might get back to their friends. But being this intertwined can also get awkward in the event of a fight or breakup, when personal moments are suddenly fodder for group gossip. Over the last few decades, choosing a partner became a more private pursuit. The facilitating friends also have a lot at stake. Research shows that playing matchmaker for friends is associated with higher wellbeing, happiness, and, overall, is a rewarding experience. The matchmaker might feel a sense of ownership over the fledgling couple, the reason for their love. A successful setup has implications beyond the couple themselves, too — the friend group deepens with new connections and can fracture if the relationship dissolves, with mutual friends choosing sides or dividing time between exes. But over the last few decades, choosing a partner became a more private pursuit, says Reuben J. Thomas, an associate professor of sociology at the University of New Mexico. Instead of leaning on social networks to facilitate a match, dating is now 'a very personal quest to find a relationship that helps you become the person you want to be, the best you, to 'self-actualize' through your relationship/marriage (and to leave the relationship if it hampers that),' Thomas says in an email. Instead of relying on the extended network of your community, you can sort through profiles of hundreds of strangers from the privacy and comfort of your bedroom. One of dating apps' greatest strengths is their ability to connect users to people outside of their social network. Most Americans marry people of similar racial, educational, and socioeconomic backgrounds, and dating apps have the power to at least diversify the dating pool, if not totally buck the trend. Your friends and family are limited in their social reach; they only interact with a finite number of people at work, at school, at clubs. There's an even greater cap on how many of those people are single. 'People's friendship circles tend to have fewer single people in them as they age beyond early adulthood, as more and more of their friends enter marriages and long-term relationships,' Thomas says. With increased exposure to a diverse array of strangers, singles on apps have more control over their love lives. In a period of history when Americans are spending less time with friends — and more time alone — you might not want to wait around for a pal to set you up with their coworker, nor should you have to. 'That's quite a bit different than how we've always met our partners,' Sharabi says. 'Usually, we run in the same network, we have the same habits, routines. When you talk about introducing somebody who's entirely independent from that, it does change the dynamic a little bit.' Removing friends and family from the romantic equation has some downsides, Sharabi says. In a study, Sharabi found that couples who met online reported slightly less satisfying and stable marriages than those who met offline. This can be attributed to lingering stigma around app-faciliated connections and family members who may judge a partner from outside their circles more harshly. 'Now you've got friends and family that are really disconnected from the process as well. They're not always supportive of the relationship,' Sharabi says. 'You're out there meeting strangers who they may or may not approve of because they just don't know them.' The new dating experience The setup may also not mesh with modern dating's array of expectations. The amount of information app users have access to prior to a date — an assortment of photos, interests, career, even weeks' worth of conversation — far exceeds the brief bit of background a friend may offer before setting you up. Another expectation of digital courtship — that the 'perfect' person is just a swipe away — can further dilute the allure of a setup. If the date you met online fails to meet your standards, hope springs eternal that the next profile will check all your boxes. With seemingly endless options, singles might discount someone simply because they don't have the right look or the right job. The nature of the setup is virtually the opposite: Here's one person you might jive with. If you aren't satisfied, it might be awkward with your mutual friend — and you'll be sent straight back to the dating apps. 'I feel like my friends have been single for so long,' says Maxine Simone Williams, the founder of the speed dating event series We Met IRL, 'they have a laundry list of what they want, which makes it even harder to set them up, because it's like, well, you don't want this.' On rare occasions, Williams has seen some event attendees walk in, survey the room, and leave. 'They're like, nobody here was my type,' she says. As much as modern daters lament the constant rejection and expendability of modern dating culture, it's also possible that they enjoy being in the driver's seat and having control. 'You do often hear people yearning for a simpler time of romance, but I think in reality they would hate it if society went back to the old ways,' of family-controlled marriages and having fewer options, Thomas says. 'Losing the ability to just shop for potential partners oneself, to have choice and agency, to be able to take the initiative and fairly quickly find a date in a big online space full of options, losing that would greatly frustrate most people today.' When it comes to dating in college, Chicago-based marketing intern Aliza Akhter has relied on apps to meet other singles. The last time the 20-year-old met a significant other through friends was in high school. To Akhter, setups are something her parents' generation did. Her friends don't ask each other if they have other single friends. She'd be open to meeting someone at a friend's party or even a setup date, but she's in the minority, she says. 'If you're single, it's pretty much a given that you either have a dating app or you have at some point,' Akhter says. 'So maybe it's just the fact that people know that there's another easier option than the introduction.' Algorithms have replaced the role of family and friends in facilitating relationships. Still, the fate of the setup isn't all grim. In recent research, Arielle Kuperberg, an associate professor of sociology at the University of Maryland, Baltimore County, has found among thousands of college students nationwide, more are now meeting romantic partners through friends and family than they were in 2019. Fewer are meeting partners online compared to 2020, when nearly a quarter of respondents met their significant other online. 'We have a five-year period we look at in this paper, from 2019 through 2024,' Kuperberg says, 'and the last year was the highest rate at which people were met through friends and family. So I think there could be a comeback.' Sharabi, however, is not as optimistic. 'I think it's dead,' she says, 'and I think that dating apps killed it.' In her view, algorithms have replaced the role of family and friends in facilitating relationships and despite apps' negative publicity as of late, she doesn't see them disappearing altogether. But if Jude Cohen, the freelance communications consultant in New York, has anything to say about it, the setup will live on. Cohen and her friends have sought to make the experience more joyful by organizing what they call the 'Blind Date Club' where each friend is tasked with bringing a date to dinner for another person in the group. Some brought friends of friends, others made dating app profiles on behalf of their pal. ('It was very clear on the profile I'm swiping for my friend Amy,' Cohen says.) Cohen found a date for her friend John by posting a video on TikTok. Five out of the six couples extended their date beyond the initial dinner. Cohen was one of them — she had a few more dates with her setup, too. Although none of the matches grew into anything more serious, Blind Date Club was a whimsical way of bringing community back into dating.
