A man in the LDS Dating - Midsingles Facebook group posted something last week that generated 339 comments and 138 reactions. The post itself was reasonable enough. He noticed that men in the current dating market seem reluctant to ask women out, wondered if the cost of dating was part of the reason, and proposed a concept he called "Dutch Dating" — a group or app where both parties pay for themselves so the financial barrier to getting more dates on the calendar would drop. Good idea or nah, he asked.
The thread that followed went on for what felt like three innings of extra time. Women said they preferred a walk or ice cream to a dinner date anyway. Men said they still pay and don't think twice about it. One woman wrote a fairly detailed case that the entire concept of a "gold digger" is simply a woman having standards that don't match a particular man's budget — and that men who complain about gold diggers usually don't have gold to dig. One commenter made arguably the sharpest point in the entire thread by observing that money is not actually the greatest commodity being spent on a date. Time is. And unlike money, you cannot earn more of it.
Three hundred and thirty-nine comments. A man asking whether it's okay to split the check. And almost nobody in the thread named the question underneath the question.
Scott and Laurie read the whole thing. And they want to talk about what the thread was actually about.
The Date That Wasn't Really About Money
Scott
Let's start with what the original poster actually said, because he deserves a fair read. He is not complaining about being broke. He said he likes to pay. He is watching men pull back from dating and he is wondering whether lowering the cost of entry would get more people off the bench. That is a reasonable observation from a reasonable man.
But here is where I want to slow down, because there is a buried assumption in the proposal worth naming. The assumption is that cost is the barrier. And I don't think that's actually what's going on. The man in his own post already told us the other thing: guys are worried about being a meal ticket. That is not a financial concern. That is a fear of being used. A fear of investing in something that does not want you back.
That is a completely different problem. And splitting the check does not fix it.
Here is the open loop I want to leave you with before we go further: there is a version of this whole conversation that is genuinely worth having. The desire to date more, to ask more people out, to stop overthinking it and just go get an ice cream with someone. That version is healthy, and we are going to get there. But something else is running underneath this thread, and we are going to come back to it. First, let's hear what the women in the thread were actually saying.
What She Heard
Laurie
I want to be careful here, because the women in this thread said a lot of different things and they do not all agree with each other. Some said they are perfectly happy to split the tab. Some said they prefer low-cost first dates anyway. One woman said she would date almost anybody if she were even asked. That last one is the line I keep coming back to.
She would date almost anybody. If she were even asked.
While one side of this thread was debating the price of a first date, the women in it were saying they are not getting asked out at all. The barrier to more dates is not the check at the end of dinner. It is the invitation that never comes.
I want to give this a name, because it will help us see what is actually happening. Let's call it the price tag problem. The price tag problem is when you attach a dollar amount to a feeling you are trying to avoid. The feeling, in this case, is rejection. The price tag is the dinner tab. But the tab was never really the issue. The issue is this: what if I ask her out and she does not want me? What if I pay for something that made me want her, and she feels nothing at all?
That fear is real. It deserves more than a split check. Keep reading.
The Real Currency
Scott
One commenter in the thread cut through everything else with a single observation. He said the greatest commodity is not money. It is time. And he is right. When you sit across from someone for two hours on a first date, you are spending something you cannot get back, cannot earn more of, and cannot split fifty-fifty.
Most people frame this entire debate around who pulls out their wallet at the end of the night. Here is what most people have backwards: the real question is whether you are willing to spend two hours of your one life on the possibility that this person might matter to you. If the answer is no, the check is not your real problem.
If you are so worried about spending forty dollars on someone who turns out not to be interested, you are already trying to keep the cost of caring low. Because caring and getting nothing back is the thing that actually hurts. I understand that impulse completely. But protecting yourself from the cost of caring is the same as protecting yourself from caring. And you cannot date from that place.
Go get the ice cream. Pay for it. And if she is not interested, you spent eight dollars and two hours learning something worth knowing. That is not a bad deal.
What the Proposal Is Really Asking For
Scott
Let me give the original poster credit, because the thing he is naming underneath the proposal is worth taking seriously. He is watching men disengage from dating and he is trying to find a structural fix. Lower the stakes, get more dates on the calendar, maybe something good happens. That instinct is not wrong.
But the disengagement he is seeing is not a pricing problem. Men are not staying home because dinner costs too much. Men are staying home because asking someone out requires being willing to be told no. And in a community where your worthiness, your desirability, and your entire future were once wrapped up in one long script about eternal companionship, being turned down for a date does not always feel like just a Tuesday. It can feel like a verdict.
Laurie
I want to add something here, because Scott just put his finger on something that gets skipped in these conversations almost every time. The framework a lot of us were handed growing up did not have much room for the ordinary, low-stakes, mildly awkward reality of dating: that most of it does not work out, and that is not a sign you did anything wrong. The framework had a lot of room for finding the right person, being spiritually prepared, following the plan.
When the stakes feel existential, every rejection gets outsized. And when every rejection feels outsized, the instinct to lower your investment before you even start makes a kind of sense. It feels like smart risk management. It is actually protection in disguise.
And as we promised earlier: this is the version of the conversation worth having.
What You Are Actually Ready For
Laurie
Here is what I notice when I read a thread like this one. Underneath all the debate about who pays and how much, there are a lot of people who genuinely want to go on more dates, who are genuinely curious about each other, who are genuinely ready to try again. The woman who said she would date almost anyone if she were asked. The man who said he pays and does not think twice. The person who suggested ice cream and a walk. All of those people are saying the same thing in different words: I am willing to show up.
That willingness is not nothing. It is actually the whole thing.
You do not need a split-tab app. You need to decide that the cost of caring, in time and in vulnerability, is worth paying. Not because you are guaranteed a return on it. Not because she is going to fall in love with you over frozen yogurt. But because you are a person who is willing to be in the world, to be curious about someone else, to spend two hours across a table from another human being and find out what they are like.
That is not a small thing. In a season of life where closing down would be completely understandable, staying open is actually a very large thing.
You are not behind. You are not too guarded or too burned or too practical for any of this to be worth trying. You are someone who has learned hard things about what it costs to let people in, and you are still here, still reading, still asking the question underneath the question. That matters more than you think.
And when you are ready to go deeper, we will be here.
— Scott & Laurie
Weighing in from the lowest tier of the Celestial Kingdom, where we finally figured out that the one thing you cannot split Dutch is the risk of actually caring about someone.