OKCupid's model is almost entirely based on advertising, which is

In the analytical yet prophetic words of Sam Yagan, a pioneer in the realm of digital connection, we find a vision not only of business, but of the evolution of human interaction in the modern age: “OKCupid’s model is almost entirely based on advertising, which is the way most online media is monetized these days, whether it’s the news or whether it’s sports, and we think online dating is going to evolve in the exact same way.” Beneath the language of commerce lies a statement about the transformation of human desire in the age of technology — a recognition that the spaces where we once sought truth, recreation, or love have become interwoven with the machinery of commerce and visibility. In these few words, Yagan captures the paradox of the digital age: that the pursuit of love and the pursuit of profit now walk the same path, each shaping the other in unseen ways.

Sam Yagan, co-founder of OKCupid, stands as one of the architects of modern digital romance — a man who translated the ancient mystery of attraction into the algorithms of the new millennium. His words are not cynical, but observant, grounded in the understanding that every age reshapes love in its own image. In the time of handwritten letters, love was slow and deliberate; in the era of radio and cinema, it was adorned by image and story. Now, in the age of the internet, love has entered the marketplace of attention, where connection is both a gift and a commodity. Yagan sees clearly what many resist: that technology, in its hunger to sustain itself, has drawn even the most intimate realms of human experience into its web of advertising and data.

Yet this observation, though it may sound cold, carries the weight of truth and even wisdom. The ancients, too, knew that every form of human communion — whether in the agora, the temple, or the banquet hall — was shaped by the systems that sustained it. Plato, in his Republic, wrote that the structure of a society determines the structure of its love: in a just society, love elevates the soul; in a corrupt one, it mirrors the hunger for power. Likewise, in our time, as Yagan suggests, the architecture of online dating — driven by visibility, attention, and advertisement — reflects the world that built it. We have traded the courtyard for the screen, the matchmaker for the algorithm, and the whispered confession for the notification. The stage has changed, but the longing remains eternal.

To understand Yagan’s meaning, one must not dismiss the language of commerce, but look through it to the deeper pattern of change. When he speaks of “advertising,” he does not simply mean the selling of products, but the selling of moments — of possibility, of hope, of connection. Just as the printing press once democratized knowledge, the digital platform democratized visibility. Everyone now can speak, share, seek, and find — but in doing so, all must also be seen. The modern lover is both seeker and seller, presenting their image to an invisible marketplace. It is the evolution of an ancient dance, now illuminated by the glow of screens.

Consider the story of Gutenberg, the man who invented the printing press in the fifteenth century. His intention was not to sell words, but to spread them — to make ideas accessible to all. Yet in time, his invention birthed the very world of publishing, marketing, and propaganda. What began as a revolution of access became also a revolution of persuasion. So too with Yagan’s world: the online dating platform began as a space of connection, but soon became a mirror of society’s hunger for attention and validation. Every innovation, however noble, carries within it both creation and corruption, and it is the task of wisdom to discern between them.

But let us not view this transformation with despair. For even in this age of data and display, the human heart remains unquantifiable. The algorithms may predict patterns, but they cannot measure tenderness. The advertisements may guide the eyes, but they cannot command the soul. What Yagan reminds us of — whether he intends it or not — is that love persists, adapting to every form it inhabits. Just as water takes the shape of its vessel yet remains itself, so does love find new life within the systems of each age. The challenge, then, is not to reject technology, but to use it with awareness — to remember that beyond every profile is a person, and beyond every click, a heart still seeking to be seen and known.

The lesson of Sam Yagan’s quote, when read in the light of timeless wisdom, is not about the triumph of monetization, but the need for mindfulness in modern connection. The seeker of love must navigate this digital marketplace with discernment — to engage without losing authenticity, to participate without surrendering the sacred. In this, we return to the oldest teaching of all: that love is not found in systems, but in sincerity; not in commerce, but in courage.

Thus, let these words be heard as both revelation and reminder: technology may shape how we meet, but not why we love. The heart that seeks truth will always find it, whether in letters, in glances, or in messages sent across invisible wires. Let us move through this new world not as consumers of affection, but as pilgrims of connection — bringing soul into system, depth into data, and meaning into the machinery of the age. For as the ancients knew and Yagan confirms, though the methods may change, the essence of love — the yearning to be known — is eternal.