Silicone kisses are a taste of the future. Thanks to a new invention from Chinese engineers, long-distance lovers won't have to blow kisses through their smartphone screens. Instead, the couple can make out through a pair of phony lips, simultaneously, providing an experience of virtual intimacy.
The device resembles a giant asthma inhaler crossed with a sex shop fleshlight. Each partner simply jams a smartphone into a slot, and the puckering lips below do the rest. The soft, silicone flesh is self-warming and responsive.
In theory, the lips imitate every movement occurring on the other end. They even make smooching noises that sound like a koi fish sucking on squid. Through the wonders of technology, true love can endure across the ocean.
Naturally, this "miracle kissing device" makes most observers gag. It's destined to join pandemic-era space helmets and talking toilet paper holders in the dustbin of failed gadgets. That's how tech evolution rolls.
Even so, these silicone fish-lips serve as a metaphor for digital romance. The reality is that modern people, both young and old, are moving away from in-person encounters in favor of sucking phone face. When in-person romance does develop, it's often sparked and kindled on a digital platform.
Dating apps have completely upended old-fashioned courtship. In fact, they've taken over much of the meet market once enjoyed at bars and clubs. First it was websites like Match.com. Then it was the gay hook-up app, Grindr, which inspired the face-swiping app, Tinder—plus countless others.
Capitalizing on convenience and social pressure, dating apps have been extremely successful. More than half of young Americans have used them. And that's not counting social media encounters.
Romance has been so thoroughly digitized, you'd think people were made for transhuman mating rituals. Over ten percent of US couples found their true love on an app. For those who have children, their genotypes are being sifted through a digital filter. Think of it as algorithmic eugenics.
Another jarring aspect is the return to maypole promiscuity. Marriage rates have declined from a high of 86 percent in 1970 to about 33 percent today. This rapid disintegration of the sacred union is accelerated by digital culture. As with most disruptive technologies—from fast cars to birth control—the benefits are spread unevenly.
On average, young people are having less sex than ever. But this broad statistic masks an underlying hierarchy. With digitization, "free love" looks more like chimpanzees in heat. Algorithmic sorting has produced a tiered arrangement where alpha males dominate. They hop from mate to mate, tallying up 10s on down to last call 5s.
Plenty will lie their faces off on app profiles—about their height, their wealth, their status—whatever it takes. Females use similar tactics, often with misleading pics. In terms of authenticity, hooking up with a digital phony is like kissing silicone lips.
Sentimental pimps will gather unwitting harems in multiple long-term relationships. Beta and gamma males still get the occasional break, and many settle for steady seconds, aka "polyamory." The dynamic is somewhere between a frat party and a pagan revival.
This leaves an increasing population of awkward, low-status males in involuntary celibacy—the openly mocked "incel" community. Some turn to erotic chatbots like Replika for companionship.
Unsurprisingly, this warped arrangement brings out male sadism. It's no wonder the solo sex toy market is booming. A few men will shell out ten thousand bucks to acquire a life-like sex doll.
To a lesser degree, the same patterns hold for a smaller number of "incel" women. But even for those who live it up in their youth, a growing number face a childless, unmarried future by the time they reach 40. They find themselves home alone, with a smartphone in one hand, and a lap dog in the other.
"Our most serious problems are not technical, nor do they arise from inadequate information," the late Neil Postman wrote in Technopoly. "And the computer is useless in addressing them."
Be that as it may, the Machine rolls on. As love tech evolves, current trends raise pressing questions. What new devices are around the corner? How pervasive will they become?
Virtual reality is the next frontier. Regardless of Meta's missteps, the market for virtual worlds will continue to grow. The popularity of "teledildonics" is still modest, but VR porn has seen stunning profits. Tech companies are pouring capital into everything from neural interfaces to haptic body suits for virtual love-making.
Developers will keep fine-tuning VR tech until it touches the right nerve. As modern life produces more isolated people, standards will degrade and the appeal will only grow. Perhaps sexting has paved the way for metaverse love affairs. Perhaps erotic chatbots opened the door to something far more disturbing.
"Sex with robots might one day be a normal part of life for a significant number of men," journalist Jenny Kleeman reports in her 2020 book Sex Robots and Vegan Meat. "A 2017 YouGov poll found that one in four American men would consider having sex with a robot, and 49 per cent of Americans thought having sex with robots would be commonplace within the next fifty years."
This Future™ isn't hard to imagine. Synthetic sexuality is a lot like a cherry lollipop. It tastes nothing like a cherry. It smells nothing like a cherry. Aside from sugar, it has no nutrients like a cherry. Yet it tricks your taste buds into experiencing it as food. In decadent households, kids choose the artificial flavor every time.
Techno-dystopia looms on the horizon, but life still brims with organic experiences. They just have to be cultivated. Meeting a mate in the real world takes guts and tenacity. Committing to marriage takes guts plus work. You have to take rejection in stride. You have to grasp real life and hold on tight. Otherwise, prepare to suck on silicone lips.
