Of course, dating for capital—whether social, political or financial—isn’t exactly new. Before TikTok and Instagram, there were dowries, dynasties and diplomatic marriages. But the trend is specific to Gen Z for a reason: Throning wouldn’t exist without social media. We’ve all seen the couples who curate their Instagram like a Gagosian exhibit; thoughtfully arranged, romantic smiles, always somewhere expensive. Whether or not these people are actually happy is beside the point—it’s that they look like they are. As Fiester explains, “Partnering with other people is not just about a feeling or a romantic connection; it’s also an exchange of capital.” And that capital—beauty, followers, aesthetic alignment—translates into perceived value. Who you date ultimately defines your social media stock price.
Does this mean every status-coded relationship is fake? Not at all. There are plenty of couples who genuinely connect, even if their Instagram looks like a brand campaign. But throning isn’t about shared chemistry—it’s about projected image. It’s amplified by what Fiester calls “hyperindividualism,” where we’re sold a relentless self-improvement narrative: better looks, better hobbies, better partners. “There’s this rampant [self-help] culture that thrives on social media,” she explains. And what this creates a kind of romantic double bind: only by maximizing your potential will you become worthy of love—of the partner you idealize—and even then, there may be no one who meets your expectations. So you bounce between extremes: chasing validation from someone shinier, or dismissing potential matches the second they show a crack in the polish.
Here’s the irony: Throning’s upward-dating logic leaves us lonelier. According to a 2018 study from Science Advances, people consistently aim too high when swiping—and are “unlikely to receive replies from people 25 percent more desirable than themselves.” Meaning, the more we chase perceived status, the less likely we are to form real, reciprocal bonds. As Fiester points out, Gen Z women often feel “pain, loneliness and self-blame” as they chase after the relationships (they think) they want. Because, when you think about it, throning means prioritizing a partner who might elevate your image instead of prioritizing someone who might make you happy.
This is where my Gen Z POV comes in. It’s almost instinctual for us to get swept up in the online orbit of our crushes. We watch their Stories, scan their tagged photos, clock the mutuals, and think, I can totally see myself with them. But remember: Social media is a curated highlight reel—one that makes it easy to fill in the blanks with our own projections. Before you know it, you’re planning imaginary vacations with someone you met last week, convincing yourself you’re compatible because they like the same jam band as your favorite ex. It’s less about who they are and more about what they represent: someone aspirational enough to validate your own potential.
