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The stage was set: Selfies were carefully curated, expectations were on the rise, and pick up lines were rehearsed. Harvard’s 2024 Datamatch results had been released.

This year, over 4,000 Harvard students prepared for the day by filling out profiles and completing Datamatch’s quirky questionnaire. The platform’s “secret” algorithm then curates ten romantic and/or platonic matches that are released on Valentine’s Day.

There are a number of reasons why one might create a Datamatch profile. Some try to match with their existing friends in order to receive some of Datamatch’s free food perks. Others sign up for the possibility of finding new friends, or even — gasp — love. Still others flock to the site out of pure curiosity, interested in seeing who the algorithm matches them with, not intending on acting on this information.

While Datamatch paints itself as a reliable matchmaking service, we should not view it as such. Rather, we ought to view it as nothing more than a casual platform, where one can be as serious or unserious with their questionnaire responses and matches as desired. Whomever the algorithm matches you with should not be viewed as your only chance at true love — a reality that seemingly eludes many Datamatch users upon opening their matches.

Granted, the occasional Datamatch success story does exist. However, the platform’s algorithm undoubtedly has room for improvement. Datamatch’s flaws were exemplified by last week’s now-infamous leak, in which a student breached the site’s security and published a list of freshmen’s Rice Purity Test scores.

Yet the leak only scratches the surface of Datamatch’s deficiencies. On Valentine’s Day, I heard complaints from Datamatch users dissatisfied with the quality of their matches. The overwhelming negative consensus underscores some of Datamatch’s deepest flaws and the superficial nature of online dating.

Since Datamatch’s algorithm is purely based on user input — and relatively narrow user input at that — it assumes that users have a small set of strict preferences when it comes to prospective partners. What’s more, Datamatch reduces individuals to short public bios and their responses to comedic questions hardly indicative of anyone’s true personality. When surveying their matches, students are then forced to judge books by their cover.

Datamatch’s creative questionnaire, pleasing aesthetics, and ultimately, provided matches, are great if you’re looking for a laugh and a good time, but not for love. To find true love, we must look beyond a curated profile selected by a computer algorithm, and instead see the humanity in the people around us. Let’s stick to skimming through questions with friends and grabbing free Joe’s Pizza on Datamatch’s dime.

Carly E. Ramos ’27, a Crimson Editorial editor, lives in Weld Hall.