Michael: A 19th-century woman was awarded damages—in court—because her fiancé broke up with her. Today, we get ghosted. It makes you wonder: with all our technology and freedom, have we actually gotten worse at dating? We’re about to find out. Kevin: Wait, hold on. You could SUE someone for dumping you? Like, take them to court for emotional damages because they decided they weren't feeling it anymore? That is absolutely wild. I can't even get a text back. Michael: You absolutely could. And that’s the central question in Nichi Hodgson's fantastic book, The Curious History of Dating. And Hodgson is the perfect guide for this journey. She's a journalist who has spent her career covering civil liberties, censorship, and sex and the law. She even pioneered live-tweeting from a UK obscenity trial. So she's looking at dating not just as romance, but as a reflection of power and society. Kevin: Right, so it's not just about flowers and first kisses. It's about the rules, the risks, and who holds the cards. The book was actually a Gold Award winner in the Nonfiction Book Awards, so it's got some serious credibility behind its witty style. Michael: Exactly. Today we'll dive deep into this from two wildly different perspectives. First, we'll travel back to the Victorian era to uncover the secret codes and legal battles of 19th-century courtship. Kevin: And then we'll fast-forward to the digital age to explore how computers and apps have completely rewired the search for love, for better and for worse. I'm ready. Let's do this.

Michael: Alright, let's start in that high-stakes Victorian world. Forget swiping right; finding a partner was more like a strategic military campaign. For women, especially, marriage wasn't just a romantic choice; it was often their only path to economic survival and social standing. Kevin: That’s so much pressure. It makes the whole "does he like me?" thing feel a lot more intense when your entire future is on the line. How did people even communicate interest with all those rigid rules and chaperones watching their every move? Michael: With incredible subtlety and creativity. One of the most fascinating tools they used was something called a "tussie-mussie." It was a small, fragrant bouquet of flowers, but it was essentially a coded message. Every single flower had a specific meaning. Kevin: So it's like sending a very specific sequence of emojis, but with flowers? That's both incredibly romantic and terrifyingly easy to misinterpret. What if you think he's sending you 'I'm deeply in love' roses, but he's actually sending you 'I think of you as a friend' pansies? Michael: That was exactly the risk! It was a delicate dance. A young lady would receive a tussie-mussie from a suitor, and she'd have to decipher the message. A red rose meant love, but yellow carnations meant disdain. She could then respond with her own bouquet, accepting or rejecting his advance. It was a silent, high-stakes conversation happening right under the noses of their chaperones. Kevin: I love that. It’s like a secret language. But what happened when things got more serious? If you couldn't just text "we need to talk," how did you handle a broken engagement? You mentioned suing... Michael: This is where it gets really interesting, and it’s a key part of Hodgson’s feminist take on this history. If a man broke off an engagement, a woman could take him to court for "breach of promise." This was a huge deal. A broken engagement could ruin a woman's reputation, making her seem "used" or undesirable, which could destroy her future marriage prospects. Kevin: So this lawsuit was her way of getting compensation for the damage to her... brand? Her personal brand? Michael: In a way, yes. It was her only recourse. And the book gives this incredible example of a woman named Amelia Rooke. She sued her own cousin, who was forty years older than her, for a breach of promise. The twist? He never actually proposed. She just inferred it from his actions and words. Kevin: Oh, no. That sounds like a recipe for disaster. She sued him based on a vibe? How did that go? Michael: She took him to court, and the judge had to weigh whether his "overtures" constituted a real promise. In the end, the court sided with her, but it was a hollow victory. They awarded her damages of a single farthing. Kevin: A farthing? That’s not even a penny! That feels more like an insult than a victory. Was this really about justice, or just public shaming? Michael: It was a bit of both. It was a double-edged sword. On one hand, it shows how desperate women were for any kind of legal protection. On the other, it highlights how the system was still stacked against them. A tiny award like that basically said, "Technically you're right, but we don't take your claim very seriously." Hodgson points out that these suits were mostly used by lower-middle and working-class women, the ones who had the most to lose. For them, even a flawed tool was better than no tool at all. Kevin: That’s a great point. It wasn't about getting rich; it was about survival. It was a way to fight back, even if the weapon was a bit flimsy. It's a story of rebellion, not just repression. Michael: Precisely. It shows that even in the most restrictive of times, people find ways to assert their needs and fight for their future. The rules were rigid, but human ingenuity and desperation were always finding the cracks.

Kevin: It's wild to think about that level of formality and legal consequence. Which makes the jump to our era feel even more chaotic. You mentioned technology, and the book dives into how that completely changed the game, right? Michael: It's a seismic shift. And it started much earlier than most people think. We think of online dating as a recent thing, but Hodgson tracks it back to the 1960s with a project called "Operation Match." It was created by two Stanford students in 1959 as a class project. Kevin: A class project? That’s amazing. How did it work? I'm picturing a giant, room-sized computer churning out punch cards with names on them. Michael: You're not far off! It was run on a massive IBM 7090 computer. People would fill out a paper questionnaire about their interests, values, and what they were looking for in a partner. They’d mail it in with three dollars. The answers were then punched into the computer, and it would spit out a printout with the names and phone numbers of your top five matches. Kevin: That's amazing. It's like a primitive Buzzfeed quiz, but for your soulmate. "Which 'Friends' character are you most compatible with?" but with actual science... or at least, what passed for science then. Michael: Exactly! And their tagline was perfect: "We supply everything but the spark." It was so optimistic. By 1965, they had processed over 90,000 questionnaires. It was a huge success. It showed that people were hungry for a more scientific, efficient way to find love. Kevin: So innocent! But that innocence didn't last. How did we get from that charming, mail-in service to... well, to the dumpster fire that modern dating can be? Michael: Well, as technology got more powerful and personal, the stakes changed. The book charts the rise of dial-up modem love in the 90s, with chat rooms and early dating sites. This was the first time you could create a whole new persona online. But with anonymity came deception. This is when "catfishing" became a real risk. Kevin: Right, the internet gave us connection, but it also gave us a mask to hide behind. Michael: And it didn't just stop at deception. The book talks about how technology also enabled some really dark and manipulative movements. The most prominent example is the rise of the Pick-Up Artist, or PUA, community in the early 2000s, popularized by books like 'The Game'. Kevin: Oh, I've heard of this. It's that whole world of "negging" and using psychological tricks to get women. It always felt so gross and predatory. Michael: It is. It’s the complete gamification and dehumanization of dating. It teaches men to see women not as people, but as targets to be "conquered" using a set of manipulative scripts. And Hodgson connects this to its tragic, real-world consequences. She doesn't mention it in the book, but this ideology has been linked to real-world violence, like the horrific 2014 shooting by Eliot Rodger, who was active in these misogynistic online communities. Kevin: Wow. That’s terrifying. It takes the idea of a "dating strategy" from the Victorian era and twists it into something truly toxic. So technology gave us more options, but it also amplified the worst parts of human behavior. Michael: It certainly created new problems. The book even touches on the "Viagra Divorce" phenomenon. When Viagra came out in the late 90s, it was hailed as a miracle. But it led to a spike in divorces among older couples, where one partner suddenly had a renewed libido that the other couldn't or didn't want to match. It was another case of technology solving one problem while creating a completely new, unforeseen one in relationships. Kevin: It's the paradox of progress. We have more tools than ever—apps, drugs, the internet—but they all seem to come with their own unique brand of anxiety. The apps create this endless "paradox of choice" where you're always wondering if someone better is just one swipe away. No one feels special because there are a million other options. Michael: And that’s the core of the modern dilemma. The Victorians had too few choices, and we have too many. Both situations create their own kind of paralysis and pain.

Michael: What Hodgson's book shows so brilliantly is that dating has always been a reflection of its time. The Victorians used law and social pressure to manage the risks of a high-stakes marriage market. We use technology to manage the risks of a high-choice, low-commitment one. The tools change, but the fundamental human anxieties—fear of rejection, fear of choosing wrong, the desire for connection—remain exactly the same. Kevin: That's such a powerful way to put it. We think we're so advanced, but we're still grappling with the same core feelings as someone sending a secret message with a flower. It makes you wonder, are we really more 'liberated' now? Or have we just traded one set of rules for another, more confusing, unwritten set? Michael: I think that's the central question the book leaves you with. We've shed the formal chaperones and the legal contracts, but now we have to navigate ghosting, breadcrumbing, and the pressure to present a perfect, curated version of ourselves online. The prison walls are gone, but we might just be lost in a much bigger, more confusing maze. Kevin: It's a question worth thinking about next time you're swiping. It’s not just you; you’re part of a long, curious history of people just trying to figure this all out. Michael: Absolutely. We'd love to hear what you think. What's the most absurd dating rule you've ever heard of, past or present? Let us know on our social channels. We're fascinated to hear your stories. Kevin: This is Aibrary, signing off.