Latest news with #Timeleft
New Indian Express
07-05-2025
- Business
- New Indian Express
Stranger Things! Know more about Timeleft, an app buzzing in the city
As our worlds have become increasingly urbanised and everything from eating out to finding the love of your life happens digitally, many, especially young people, have felt a deep loneliness and longing for connection and community. This is evident in the spurt of clubs and community-driven events that Bengaluru has seen since the pandemic. But loneliness is a global phenomenon and people aren't just trying to combat it in Bengaluru. Timeleft, a Paris-based company with a presence in 60 countries and 300 cities, which recently launched in Mumbai and Bengaluru, has been doing the same by using a personality algorithm to bring people together for meals. 'We all meet other people digitally and have thousands of connections; but the truth is, we barely connect in real life, so there's a huge space to grow real life communities. Unlike dating apps, you can meet people without any agenda – you can find a partner, friends, business connections, you don't know what,' says Tu-Han Vincent, the head of operations for the Asia and Pacific region. Every user is prompted to take part in an assessment; the questions in this quick test range from basic age and occupation ones, to ones that try to gauge your personal style, your preference for talking about the news (or not) over dinner, how social you are and even whether you enjoy 'politically incorrect' humour. As Vincent explains, the goal isn't to put together five identical individuals but to have a mix of characters that are likely to get along. 'The most important elements for us are to have an age gap within 10 years, so people share the same stage in life, diversity in terms of gender, and of course, a balance of introverts and extroverts. We go deeper and deeper with the matching criteria as we have more users in a zone,' says Vincent. While exciting in its spontaneity, meeting strangers completely blind, without vetting them through chats like dating apps allow, may cause some, especially women, to hit the breaks. But Vincent shares that the venture has put safety measures in place. 'We're constantly in touch with restaurant managers and we've been really careful with the areas and restaurants we choose. We also make sure that we don't have a solo woman at any table. There is also a trust and safety team that is really careful and reads everything [any negative feedback that's reported],' he assures. The cost of getting on the app, too, is more exclusive in India compared than other countries and their income levels, with a range between `1,000 to `1,800 per month based on the subscription period, acting as a deterrent for miscreants. Currently only available in central Bengaluru, the app has partnered with 81 restaurants in the area like Toast and Tonic, Foo (Brigade Road), Misu (St Marks Road), Lupa, and more.
Yahoo
21-04-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
The Multimillion-Dollar Friendship Industry Has a Big Flaw
If you're a lonely adult in an American city, please know that people are trying very hard to help you. A few examples: The organization Project Gather hosts food-centered hangouts—potlucks, bake sales, mushroom foraging—across the country. The company Timeleft, operating in more than 300 cities, matches groups of five strangers for dinner every Wednesday. Belong Center offers 'Belong Circles,' 90-minute gatherings led by 'trained community architects.' Block Party USA seems to, um—advocate for the concept of block parties? Ventures such as these make up a growing friendship industry, and they claim a lofty goal: Not only do they want to get people off their phone and out of the house; they want nothing less than to cure Americans of alienation. 'Eating with others can bring joy, build interpersonal connections, and ultimately help solve the loneliness epidemic in the U.S.,' Project Gather declares. Block Party USA considers itself an 'actionable cure for our country's loneliness, social isolation, divisiveness, and the youth mental health crisis.' Ambitious! But I have some notes. First, it must be said: Research doesn't back up the idea that America is experiencing a loneliness epidemic, or even that overall loneliness rates are worse now than they've generally been throughout history. Of course, plenty of people do report feeling lonely—particularly young adults, a group that may actually be lonelier than they used to be. And many of these endeavors explicitly or implicitly target Gen Z, a cohort that does seem to struggle with interpersonal trust and vulnerability, and therefore could probably use some help connecting. If only it were as easy as getting them in the same room. [Read: The myth of a loneliness epidemic] Most of these start-ups appear to rely on a common assumption: Loneliness results from a lack of friends, and to make new friends, one should meet new people. But we don't fully know what makes a person more or less lonely. Loneliness and time spent alone don't seem to be closely correlated; different people crave different amounts of socializing, and not all socializing is equally fulfilling. When researchers at the Harvard Graduate School of Education surveyed 1,500 American adults about loneliness, they found that people cited a number of struggles, not all clearly related to a friend shortage: 65 percent of those who were lonely said they felt existentially alone, separate from others or the world; 60 percent said their insecurity or mental health had made connection more difficult; 57 percent said they couldn't share their true self. Other studies suggest that very few people have no friends, and that the average number of friends people have has remained fairly stable over time. The problem with relationships is often one of quality rather than quantity. One firm believer in this principle is Shasta Nelson, who writes about friendship and hosts a podcast called Frientimacy. The title is a nod to what she believes many people are hungry for: not friends, per se, but real intimacy with those friends. 'We don't need to meet more people,' she told me. 'We need to feel more met by the people we already know.' Achieving frientimacy, she argues, requires three things: consistency, positivity, and vulnerability. The friendship industry tends to start and end with mere presence: You have to show up. But a single paint-and-sip does not a best friend make. Jeffrey A. Hall, a University of Kansas communication professor, has found in his work that going from strangers to casual friends typically takes 40 to 60 hours spent together; moving to actual friends takes 80 to 100 hours, and forming a good friendship tends to take about 200 hours altogether. Ideally, a friendship-event attendee knows that if they meet someone they like, they should reach out again. What about the time after that—and after that? Without another shared context or network to put them in regular proximity, consistency is difficult to attain. [Read: The six forces that fuel friendship] American culture has few models for how early friendship development works, Nelson told me. People tend to understand that after a good first date, they need to schedule the next meetup—soon, or they'll lose momentum. With platonic prospects, though, many people don't know how to put in the work. 'One of the big myths,' she said, is 'that we just have to meet the right person. We just need to keep being in the room, and eventually we'll find our best friend.' Instead of seeking more and more people, hoping for a spark, maybe you're better off working on the friendships that you already have—you know, the ones you're neglecting while playing badminton with strangers. This is where positivity, another one of Nelson's pillars, comes in: the measure of how good a given friendship is making you feel. It's actually the key to consistency, because you won't be motivated to clear space in a hectic schedule—to pay the babysitter, to do the commute—if you didn't leave the last hang feeling seen. Nelson hears a lot of complaints about consistency being the hardest node of the triad to achieve, but for years now, she's been asking participants to assess their own strength in each of the three areas—and she's found that positivity is the area in which participants perform most poorly. So many people, she observed, are overwhelmed and burned out; they might show up and cross 'friend time' off their list without really giving those friends their full attention. Or they're so nervous and afraid of rejection that they focus on themselves while socializing, not on how to make others feel valued. And if they're too guarded to really open up—to achieve the third pillar, vulnerability—how can they expect the other person to do so either? Hypothetically, an anti-loneliness start-up could design meetups with these principles in mind: supporting the slow build of connection over time; encouraging warmth, sharing, and vocal affirmation. Nelson herself ran a 'friendship accelerator' program back in 2008, in which she matched participants into small groups and had them commit to 10 full weeks of structured gatherings. Each one ended with everyone in a circle, telling the person on their right one thing they appreciated about them. At least one of those groups, she told me, is still close. At the same time, she knows that even the most perfectly curated series of get-togethers isn't likely to fix anyone's social life. She compared it to working out: You don't really start to feel the benefits until you've stuck with it enough to get in shape. 'We have to see our social health not just as an event here and there, but like a lifestyle,' she told me, 'that we are training for and getting stronger in.' [Read: Americans are hoarding their friends] The loneliness industrial complex is unlikely to sustain a lifetime of intentional friendship. But further, it isn't equipped to address the structural issues plaguing many lonely people—especially young adults. Hosting social events won't make rent any cheaper or higher education more affordable, which might allow more young people to live near friends rather than moving back in with their parents. It won't cut down on people's working hours so they can spend more time with loved ones. It won't fix the mental-health-treatment gap, which exists because providers tend to focus on children and adolescents or end up treating middle-aged and older adults, leaving young adults underserved. It won't transform the architecture of cities—build larger housing units, say, so people can host groups; improve public transportation so they can easily reach friends; open new 'third places,' public areas where people can socialize for free. Imperfect measures are better than none. Still: A whole lot of resources—whether from investors or individual donors or pro bono efforts—are being dumped into the friendship industry. TimeLeft, backed by venture capital, has raised more than $2 million since 2020; according to a story in New York magazine earlier this year, Belong Center has gathered at least $1,750,000. Hinge's 'One More Hour' initiative is investing $1 million in existing social clubs—some of which host events, such as 'reading parties,' that sound highly likely to be one-off experiences. And although some of these meetups are free to attendees, others require entry fees or memberships. Take the Brooklyn-based Sprout Society's upcoming 'Together We Dink': A Pickleball Experience event: A ticket that includes playing, food, and drinks costs $250. Across the nation, people yearning for some kind of community are really trying—they're making time, getting dressed up, shelling out—all for a highly imperfect solution. At best, these enterprises offer helpful venues for meeting interesting people, whether or not you'll be forever friends or even have much in common. At worst, they're expensive distractions, offering a false promise of shiny new connections at the expense of old pals—the ones who have been there all along. Article originally published at The Atlantic
Atlantic
21-04-2025
- General
- Atlantic
The Multimillion-Dollar Friendship Industry Has a Big Flaw
If you're a lonely adult in an American city, please know that people are trying very hard to help you. A few examples: The organization Project Gather hosts food-centered hangouts—potlucks, bake sales, mushroom foraging—across the country. The company Timeleft, operating in more than 300 cities, matches groups of five strangers for dinner every Wednesday. Belong Center offers 'Belong Circles,' 90-minute gatherings led by 'trained community architects.' Block Party USA seems to, um—advocate for the concept of block parties? Ventures such as these make up a growing friendship industry, and they claim a lofty goal: Not only do they want to get people off their phone and out of the house; they want nothing less than to cure Americans of alienation. 'Eating with others can bring joy, build interpersonal connections, and ultimately help solve the loneliness epidemic in the U.S.,' Project Gather declares. Block Party USA considers itself an 'actionable cure for our country's loneliness, social isolation, divisiveness, and the youth mental health crisis.' Ambitious! But I have some notes. First, it must be said: Research doesn't back up the idea that America is experiencing a loneliness epidemic, or even that overall loneliness rates are worse now than they've generally been throughout history. Of course, plenty of people do report feeling lonely—particularly young adults, a group that may actually be lonelier than they used to be. And many of these endeavors explicitly or implicitly target Gen Z, a cohort that does seem to struggle with interpersonal trust and vulnerability, and therefore could probably use some help connecting. If only it were as easy as getting them in the same room. Most of these start-ups appear to rely on a common assumption: Loneliness results from a lack of friends, and to make new friends, one should meet new people. But we don't fully know what makes a person more or less lonely. Loneliness and time spent alone don't seem to be closely correlated; different people crave different amounts of socializing, and not all socializing is equally fulfilling. When researchers at the Harvard Graduate School of Education surveyed 1,500 American adults about loneliness, they found that people cited a number of struggles, not all clearly related to a friend shortage: 65 percent of those who were lonely said they felt existentially alone, separate from others or the world; 60 percent said their insecurity or mental health had made connection more difficult; 57 percent said they couldn't share their true self. Other studies suggest that very few people have no friends, and that the average number of friends people have has remained fairly stable over time. The problem with relationships is often one of quality rather than quantity. One firm believer in this principle is Shasta Nelson, who writes about friendship and hosts a podcast called Frientimacy. The title is a nod to what she believes many people are hungry for: not friends, per se, but real intimacy with those friends. 'We don't need to meet more people,' she told me. 'We need to feel more met by the people we already know.' Achieving frientimacy, she argues, requires three things: consistency, positivity, and vulnerability. The friendship industry tends to start and end with mere presence: You have to show up. But a single paint-and-sip does not a best friend make. Jeffrey A. Hall, a University of Kansas communication professor, has found in his work that going from strangers to casual friends typically takes 40 to 60 hours spent together; moving to actual friends takes 80 to 100 hours, and forming a good friendship tends to take about 200 hours altogether. Ideally, a friendship-event attendee knows that if they meet someone they like, they should reach out again. What about the time after that—and after that? Without another shared context or network to put them in regular proximity, consistency is difficult to attain. American culture has few models for how early friendship development works, Nelson told me. People tend to understand that after a good first date, they need to schedule the next meetup—soon, or they'll lose momentum. With platonic prospects, though, many people don't know how to put in the work. 'One of the big myths,' she said, is 'that we just have to meet the right person. We just need to keep being in the room, and eventually we'll find our best friend.' Instead of seeking more and more people, hoping for a spark, maybe you're better off working on the friendships that you already have—you know, the ones you're neglecting while playing badminton with strangers. This is where positivity, another one of Nelson's pillars, comes in: the measure of how good a given friendship is making you feel. It's actually the key to consistency, because you won't be motivated to clear space in a hectic schedule—to pay the babysitter, to do the commute—if you didn't leave the last hang feeling seen. Nelson hears a lot of complaints about consistency being the hardest node of the triad to achieve, but for years now, she's been asking participants to assess their own strength in each of the three areas—and she's found that positivity is the area in which participants perform most poorly. So many people, she observed, are overwhelmed and burned out; they might show up and cross 'friend time' off their list without really giving those friends their full attention. Or they're so nervous and afraid of rejection that they focus on themselves while socializing, not on how to make others feel valued. And if they're too guarded to really open up—to achieve the third pillar, vulnerability—how can they expect the other person to do so either? Hypothetically, an anti-loneliness start-up could design meetups with these principles in mind: supporting the slow build of connection over time; encouraging warmth, sharing, and vocal affirmation. Nelson herself ran a 'friendship accelerator' program back in 2008, in which she matched participants into small groups and had them commit to 10 full weeks of structured gatherings. Each one ended with everyone in a circle, telling the person on their right one thing they appreciated about them. At least one of those groups, she told me, is still close. At the same time, she knows that even the most perfectly curated series of get-togethers isn't likely to fix anyone's social life. She compared it to working out: You don't really start to feel the benefits until you've stuck with it enough to get in shape. 'We have to see our social health not just as an event here and there, but like a lifestyle,' she told me, 'that we are training for and getting stronger in.' The loneliness industrial complex is unlikely to sustain a lifetime of intentional friendship. But further, it isn't equipped to address the structural issues plaguing many lonely people—especially young adults. Hosting social events won't make rent any cheaper or higher education more affordable, which might allow more young people to live near friends rather than moving back in with their parents. It won't cut down on people's working hours so they can spend more time with loved ones. It won't fix the mental-health-treatment gap, which exists because providers tend to focus on children and adolescents or end up treating middle-aged and older adults, leaving young adults underserved. It won't transform the architecture of cities—build larger housing units, say, so people can host groups; improve public transportation so they can easily reach friends; open new 'third places,' public areas where people can socialize for free. Imperfect measures are better than none. Still: A whole lot of resources—whether from investors or individual donors or pro bono efforts—are being dumped into the friendship industry. TimeLeft, backed by venture capital, has raised more than $2 million since 2020; according to a story in New York magazine earlier this year, Belong Center has gathered at least $1,750,000. Hinge's 'One More Hour' initiative is investing $1 million in existing social clubs—some of which host events, such as 'reading parties,' that sound highly likely to be one-off experiences. And although some of these meetups are free to attendees, others require entry fees or memberships. Take the Brooklyn-based Sprout Society's upcoming 'Together We Dink': A Pickleball Experience event: A ticket that includes playing, food, and drinks costs $250. Across the nation, people yearning for some kind of community are really trying—they're making time, getting dressed up, shelling out—all for a highly imperfect solution. At best, these enterprises offer helpful venues for meeting interesting people, whether or not you'll be forever friends or even have much in common. At worst, they're expensive distractions, offering a false promise of shiny new connections at the expense of old pals—the ones who have been there all along.
USA Today
28-02-2025
- Lifestyle
- USA Today
New in town or a life-long local, here are 5 easy ways to make new friends: Video
New in town or a life-long local, here are 5 easy ways to make new friends: Video Show Caption Hide Caption How to make new friends using Reddit, Instagram, more These apps can help you meet new friends in your area. Problem Solved Meeting new people and building connections is one of the many joys in life. However, putting yourself out there can be daunting and anxiety-inducing. Striking up a conversation with someone at a coffee shop looks easy on TV, but in unscripted reality, it can be challenging. Americans are suffering from a loneliness epidemic, U.S. Surgeon General Dr. Vivek Murthy warned in 2023. 'Most of us probably think of loneliness as just a bad feeling,' he told USA TODAY. 'Loneliness has far greater implications for our health when we struggle with a sense of social disconnection, being lonely or isolated.' Many people are feeling the impact of loneliness and are seeking to connect with more people, whether they're new to an area or looking to expand their social circle. If that also sounds like you, keep reading for some easy ways to get out of your comfort zone and meet new people. Watch this video to see how apps and social media can help you meet new people. How to make friends One of the challenges of meeting new people is committing to doing so. Making plans to hang out and then actually following through with them. Thankfully, the platforms that connect new people tend to handle the logistics, so you just have to show up at the designated time and place. Check Instagram. There are Instagram accounts dedicated to helping people connect. They can be geared towards making new friends, like atl friends, or connect you to people with similar hobbies or interests, like atlsilentbookclub or BLKHikingclub. If you're scrolling on Instagram and see a page that fits what you're looking for, look at the similar accounts Instagram recommends. There, you may find more opportunities for socializing to explore. Have dinner with strangers. This might sound like a nightmare to some people, but having dinner with a group of strangers, all looking to make new friends, is a thing! Apps like Timeleft will match you with a small group of people and will coordinate a dinner for everyone to get together. The app asks you questions and then pairs you with compatible dinner companions. It sets a time and place to meet and even provides some icebreakers in case the conversation lulls. If things go well, it will also suggest a place to go after dinner if people want to continue hanging out. The app is currently in select cities and does require a subscription, which does not cover the cost of dinner. Try Bumble. If one-on-one is more your style, try Bumble. The dating app has two ways to help you make friends: using the Bumble BFF mode in the dating app or using their friend-specific app Bumble For Friends. Shop top-rated related products: Purchases you make through our links may earn us and our publishing partners a commission. See what is planned on Meetup. Meetup is a very popular platform that lists events happening in your area designed to help you connect with new people. They have a variety of events and interests, so you can choose something you're an expert at or explore something new. Plus, you can choose between online and in-person meetups. Befriend your fellow Redditors. Some city-specific Reddit pages have event or meetup threads that can help you connect with new people. Essentially, you leave a comment, set a time and place for people to gather, post, and hope people join! Some of these options might only be available in bigger cities, so if you live in a smaller town, consider looking at events on Facebook or on apps like Nextdoor for opportunities to meet new people.
Yahoo
29-01-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Everyone is sick of dating apps — so they're turning to 'friendship apps'
On one of the coldest nights in New York this year, I bundled up and went to a trendy tourist trap to meet up with five people who also felt that the pull to make new friends was stronger than the windchill. I didn't know anything about my matches aside from a text I'd received that told me that two of them also like reading, that several enjoyed the same irreverent TV shows I do, like "Arrested Development" and "Broad City," and that one had bungee jumped in New Zealand. We were meeting as a group curated by the app 222, which asks users to fill out questionnaires with info like their birth order among their siblings, the economic class they grew up in, and how spontaneous they are. I was delighted to see I was paired with other people in their late 20s and early 30s, so I wouldn't have to be the aging millennial at the Gen Z table. (There was a collective sigh of relief on this point.) Despite the freezing cold, everyone showed up — no doubt given extra motivation by the app's strict no-show policy that not only involves added fees but kicks out people who don't cancel with notice. The app, acting as a sort of virtual host, gave us prompts to get the conversation going, such as "If you could pick another name for yourself, what would it be?". I didn't find them particularly enlightening. We read through some but decided we didn't need generic prompts to chat. The people who had bought into this experience (by paying a small fee to 222 and by opening themselves up to strangers) were friendly and eager to meet someone new. Founded in 2021, 222 is one of several apps that launched in recent years with the aim of fighting loneliness and finding people real, in-the-flesh friends. Bumble has for years had a friendship setting for swiping. There's also Clockout, Timeleft, and Pie. Timeleft says it has brought more than 400,000 people together in more than 170 cities. In 2023, Bumble estimated that about 15% of its monthly active users were using the friends setting. While social media algorithms are often blamed for entrapping people and isolating them as they spend more of their time on screens than with friends, apps like 222 say their algorithms can pair us up with our new besties or potential romantic partners, sussing out similarities and determining compatibility. A cottage industry of apps is raising millions of dollars on the idea that IRL is the next big thing online. The apps feel like the next iteration of online dating, which normalized the virtual meet-cute. But they're having a moment as more young people feel burned out by the churn of commodified romance. Finding friendship is lower stakes than finding true love, but that's also a part of the barrier to it. There are fewer norms for pursuing a potential friend: How soon after meeting do I text them? How do I know if they're interested as well? Am I being too needy? Does this person think I'm a total freak? The anxiety spiral can keep any of us from texting someone to hang out. The point of 222 is to get past that. "If we can use technology to be an invisible facilitator to just nudge people gently in the direction of spending more time with each other, then I think we've truly created more connection in the world," Keyan Kazemian, the 25-year-old cofounder and CEO of 222, tells me. "We've created a chance encounter and potentially a relationship that didn't exist before." Before the pandemic there was a rise in the celebration of canceling plans, as showcased by viral social media posts and several articles unpacking the psychology behind the act. It felt so good, many people said, to bail and binge Netflix instead of shuttling around to after-work catch-up cocktails with friends. "I'm just not feeling it" became a justification for ditching someone over text on short notice and choosing to rot on the couch instead. Leaving friends on read for days became the norm. People prioritized individualism and the idea of self-care over community and friendships. The backlash from the self-involved era is in full swing. Turns out, people want friends. They want to practice the lost art of hanging out, central to '90s sitcoms like "Friends" and "Seinfeld." But as we've increasingly lost our connection to "third places," like religious centers, local coffee shops, and community centers, and pivoted toward hybrid or remote work, finding our people has become so much harder. Former US surgeon general, Dr. Vivek Murthy called loneliness an epidemic in 2023, highlighting the serious physical health risks and financial costs of isolation. In a 2024 poll conducted by Morning Consult for the American Psychiatric Association, 30% of adults said they felt lonely once a week, and 10% said they felt lonely daily. Among 18- to 34-year-olds, 30% said they felt lonely each day or several times a week. The definition of loneliness for the poll wasn't just having a slow week or lacking a romantic partner but the much darker dread of "feeling like you do not have meaningful or close relationships or a sense of belonging." When you look at the increasing ways people are trying to study and understand the science of making friends, the idea of using algorithms doesn't seem so far-fetched. A 2018 study from Jeffrey Hall, a professor of communication studies at the University of Kansas, found that people had to spend about 50 hours together to become casual friends and 90 hours to reach general "friend" status. Another study he conducted in 2023 suggested that reaching out to friends for even quick quality interactions daily could help lower stress and increase happiness. How much of our compatibility is innate, and how much have we built into each other by spending thousands upon thousands of hours together? With apps like 222 and Timeleft, the algorithms may matter less than the buy-in: The apps gather people who want to make new friends and then push them to follow up, avoiding some of the awkwardness of pursuing something unreciprocated. "Whether or not the specific magic sauce of the matching is necessary is an open question. It might work, it might not work, it may not matter," Hall tells me. "What really matters is people are caring enough to sign up and show up, and showing up is what we do for our friends." I tried another matched dinner on Timeleft, which tries to match compatible people for Wednesday-night dinners around the US, but half of our group ditched, which made it harder to have the full group experience. There's also Pie, which brings people together around shared interests — like book clubs, dinner clubs, and dancing — in Chicago, Austin, and San Francisco. The company pays local creators to host events, leveraging the concept of the gig economy and local social groups as an engine for new connections. Andy Dunn, who founded Pie after his run as the cofounder and CEO of the menswear brand Bonobos, says people have to keep seeing each other to form those strong ties. For now, Pie brings people together for recurring events, but it's working on ways to better pair up people at those events who are likely to get along. Dunn says he thinks the answer to ending loneliness isn't technology itself but rather people who decide to show up and put themselves out there. "I don't think the algorithm can do it," he said. "I think we can do it." The idea is catching on. Pie raised $11.5 million in a Series A round last year, and 222 raised $3.6 million so far. "While technology has offered us so much, including a new dimension of connectivity via social networks, it has had many unintended consequences that have led in part to, ironically, less connectivity in real life," Kirsten Green, the founder and managing partner of Forerunner Ventures who invested in Pie, tells me in an email. "We are entering what we see as the next phase of digital adoption where we better learn to live with this — not by being consumed by it, but by thriving because of it." I'm thinking about the gaggle of people I've collected as my closest friends over the past 20 years. Two I met through Craigslist and Facebook Marketplace as random roommates who also needed someone to split the rent with. Another was my last-minute prom date, and the fourth I picked out of my 300 or so seventh-grade peers because she wore a Panic! At The Disco T-shirt. Each was brought into my life by repeated proximity — we shared classrooms or kitchens and living rooms and experiences for so long that we eventually became inseparable. I recently asked one of them: Do you think we're best friends because we can see the subtleties of the world in the same way, or do we see the world the same way because we've been hanging out since 2007? How much of our compatibility is innate, and how much have we built into each other by spending thousands upon thousands of hours together? Hall says friendships are likely forged at both ends. You discover that you have a similar worldview or sense of humor in certain situations. Over time, your friends also shape you: They can influence your values, your exercise routine, your eating and drinking habits. Similarity alone is not enough. We could read the same book but have completely different interpretations. We might both be dog people, but that doesn't mean I'll like you and your dog. But my random roommates and I, who look different on paper and were brought together over nothing more than similar budgets in the same city, can look at a social situation and walk away with the same vibes and opinions. Would an algorithm match me with these people for dinner? If it did, would I even recognize their potential to be the people who'll stand by me during my most important life events? There's no way to know. A day or so after my 222 dinner, the app asked me to rate my dinner companions and provide more info on why I did or didn't like someone. It said that would help boost my chance of getting better matches going forward. After filling out the questionnaire, I found that someone I had positively reviewed said the same about me, and the app nudged us to hang out again — taking the awkwardness of pursuing a new pal out of my hands. It may matter less what the algorithm sees in the two of us and more that we're open to keep trying to find our people together. Read the original article on Business Insider
