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More than a decade after the Internet became a dating hot spot, the debate over what is real and what is snake oil is at full boil, with lawmakers and Web sites clashing over legislative proposals to keep clients from being scammed.
"You guys can either be part of the solution or feel like you're victims of someone taking over your business," Florida state Rep. Kevin Ambler told industry insiders at a conference in San Francisco this month. "But this is going to come ... like a freight train roaring down the track."
New York already has passed a consumer statute to regulate dating sites. A half-dozen other states--including Illinois--are considering similar laws to require matchmaking services to conduct criminal background checks, or at least post a notice alerting clients that they are on their own.
One new company has taken the process even further by offering to vet all of a user's personal information, including credit history and the presence of any sexually transmitted diseases.
Providers insist they can police themselves. Some safeguards already are in place to weed out rogues--such as having other users report bad apples. Besides, they say, more oversight will only make sites cost-prohibitive, limiting volume and choice.
An estimated 16 million Americans spent more than $245 million in 2005 looking for love on the Internet, according to the Pew Research Center and Online Publishers Association, respectively. But traffic is slowing, which some analysts attribute to an erosion of credibility--not just of potential suitors but the companies as well.
Moreover, efforts to guarantee truthfulness would be no more successful in cyber-dating than at a Lincoln Park bar, opponents say.
Seduction always has been about selling, they argue--and selling is about embellishment. So what if someone shaves a few years off their age, or adds a couple zeroes to their salary? That's all part of the game. Any move to neatly apply consumer protections to courtship in the same way as, say, to the purchase of a flat-screen TV is futile, at best.
"People are the same online and off," said Evan Marc Katz, a founder of a consulting firm that helps prospective suitors write persuasive profiles. "If they choose to misrepresent themselves, there really isn't much you can do."
Eric Straus of Cupid.com puts it more succinctly: "Government is sticking its nose where it doesn't belong."
Still, during the last year, Yahoo Personals and Match.com were sued for allegedly posting phony profiles and using "date bait"--sending employees to act as members--to keep subscribers from bolting.
A Yahoo Personals spokeswoman said, "We do not comment on pending legal matters." A representative for Match.com said: "There is not a single thread of truth to the allegations in this lawsuit."
To restore credibility, Herb Vest, owner of True.com, has thrown down the gauntlet.
Three years ago, the 61-year-old Dallas financier rode into town like Wyatt Earp, promising to clean up the Wild West by offering background checks on clients and suing anyone who lies about felony convictions or marital status. (When True.com filed suit against a California sex offender who got on the site earlier this year, it made national news.)
Now, Vest is challenging competitors to do the same: Either disclose you do background checks, or clearly state that you don't.
Illinois state Rep. John Bradley (D-Marion) said such measures "just make common sense" in an era of online predators, identity thieves and other con artists.
Alerted to abuses by constituents, Bradley sponsored the Internet Dating Disclosure Act, which passed the House but ran into stiff opposition in the state Senate last month. He hopes the measure will be taken up in the fall veto session.
"If you get on a roller coaster, you can expect that it's safe," Bradley said. "Shouldn't the same be true when you're looking for your soul mate?"
Nothing is foolproof
While no background checks can be foolproof, they can go a long way to deterring scammers, supporters say. Something as simple as utility records can determine whether someone else is residing at the same address.
To Vest, those who lie online about a police record or marital status--estimated by experts at 5 percent to 30 percent--are in a different category entirely than those who shade the truth about height, weight or hairline.
"If you meet someone who is 20 pounds heavier, then you've probably lost 30 minutes at a coffee shop," Vest said. "That's a whole lot different than getting involved emotionally or getting raped or murdered."
However, some of Vest's competitors--such as Cupid's Straus--dismiss his challenge as nothing more than a public relations stunt.
In San Francisco, Marc Lesnick, the organizer of the conference--the first to devoted solely to security issues--questioned whether members will want to give their Social Security numbers and driver's license data to every social networking site they visit--data that is necessary for background checks.
"Worse than the malicious consumer is the malicious company," Lesnick said.
Some say the dangers are exaggerated and that the response is an overreaction.
After a presentation about the possibility that would-be rapists might look for victims online, Michael Jones, a partner in a software company, exclaimed that speakers "talked about the female population as if women were mindless bats dragged into situations. . . . Everybody lives in the real world."
Checking him, or her, out
Nevertheless, all Florida rape crisis centers have started asking victims if they met their attacker online. Within the first 10 days at just one Tampa Bay crisis center, a half-dozen Net-dating victims had been identified, according to Ambler, the Florida legislator, who is a Republican.
Others say that a basic check--about $1.50 each--would be inadequate, plagued by out-of-date information and riddled with inaccuracies. A first-rate search, on the other hand, would be more expensive. One company, Honesty Online, offers a menu of services, starting at $15 for a basic investigation up to $95 for a Cadillac version, which includes sending an examiner out to a member's house for identity verification, photographing and even perform oral swabs for HIV and other STDs. Only then does the company issue a seal of approval for display next to the member's profile. Such costs would be passed along to the consumer.
Nancy Roth, 30, of Washington certainly wouldn't be as interested. As a faithful user for five years in four different cities, the marketing professional has had 50 dates, yielding three short-term relationships.
Those percentages are OK for a lark, but not for a serious investment, she said. And while she's had her share of "interesting experiences"--including one guy who billed himself as physically fit and a comedian, but who turned out to be neither--most dates have been more socially awkward than sinister.
"It's better than bars," she said. "But not as good as meeting people through friends."
Alison Hayden of Chicago has less than six months of experience under her belt, but the 29-year-old law student has decided that when her Match.com contract ends in September, she won't re-up. After a date with someone who turned out to be "a semistalker," she would like to see some kind of oversight. "At the very least, I'd like to see a rating system similar to eBay's, where you can post your comments . . . good or bad. Either `This person is great--just not for me' or `This person is crazy--stay away."'
One 55-year-old Sonoma County, Calif., woman, whose name was withheld for her safety, told the Contra Costa Times that she identified Robert Wells, a convicted sex felon, who was sued by True.com for fraud. "In his profile, he talked about how he's a sensuous person. That sends out bells," she said.
`Let the buyer beware'
Even with increased monitoring, there's no substitute for "let the buyer beware."
That can be a challenge in a medium where anonymity reigns and traditional ways to size up a would-be Romeo--body language, eye contact, voice intonation--are unavailable.
Still, there are red flags, said Roberta Beier of Oakland, who has been burned twice, including by one married man who gave her a fakename and job title and saidhis wife died of cancer.
After a decade of cyberlove, the 44-year-old accountant now has her own strategy to sniff out bogus claims.
"I tell them the first week: `I want to meet your family, your friends, the people you work with. If that doesn't happen, I'm not wasting my time.'"
Fun with horror stories
"I had one guy who told me: `Normally, after these many dates, I usually sleep with a woman.' He actually had a formula. I told him that he should have put that in the questionnaire." --52-year-old Chicago executive
"I went out with one woman who was smart, attractive and engaging. On the fifth date, she bursts into tears. She said she had lied about being single when she was really going through a divorce and had a child. Her husband had cheated on her ... and now I'm thinking, `What do I do?' Do I hit the road, only adding to her opinion that all men are jerks? Or should I try to be understanding?' It put me in an awkward spot. ... But, in the end, I couldn't get over the lies." --50-year-old Chicago management consultant
"People bill themselves as petite. But what I've had over the years is really short and overweight. So what do you do? You invest 30 or 40 minutes to find something to talk about that's fun for both of us. I treat it like a game show." --Steven Katchman, 37, entrepreneur, Washington, D.C.
"I went on a singles cruise this past Christmas and the pickings were slim. But I met this guy and we went out for dinner in Aruba. When we got back on the boat, I found out from one of the other women on the ship that he had a girlfriend left at home. Who goes on a singles cruise when they have a girlfriend? The trick is to come with low expectations ... and then you can be pleasantly surprised." --Steffi Paul, 39, health-care staffing, Bethesda, Md.
By Bonnie Miller Rubin, Tribune staff reporter Special correspondent Jane Meredith Adams contributed to this report from San Francisco
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