www.wired.com/wired/archive/12.06/dating.html
Cracking the Code to Romance Every geek complains about looking for a hookup. Meet four lonelyhearts who are hacking their way into the sack - call them the dating optimizers.
next The Googler Name:Chau Vuong Status:Single millionaire Age:33 Location:Los Angeles Interested in:Solving the problem of finding a soul mate by creating a fully searchable database of love.
The Stalker Chau Vuong, a 33-year-old former equity analyst who specialized in pharmaceutical companies at the investment bank Robertson Stephens, admits he's never kissed a girl. He hopes that one day he'll get married and lose his virginity. With a doctorate in pharmacy and a background in computer science, the self-described "extreme type-A personality" works full time on a desperately personal project: "to solve dating by turning Google into a global dating service."
More Vuong's boyish smile and giddy laugh give him the air of an awkward college freshman. Vuong confides that he is "socially retarded in the real world," but he comes across as just plain innocent. It's easy to imagine having a blast with him watching Finding Nemo and drinking hot chocolate. Vuong is the author of an underground Internet classic, The Soulmate Manifesto, a cost-benefit analysis of romance that proposes "a mathematical model that could predict and explain all human behavior pertaining to love." Lately, he's been all over the Net with his theories about using statistical analysis to find a date. A few months ago, he launched an online dating service, SocialGrid, which he promised would "change the world." When I meet Vuong for lunch at a hip LA diner near Beverly Hills, it's clear he's not kidding. As soon as we sit down, he whips out his laptop to show off its 12-hour battery. "It's just like bioinformatics, where you're searching for a sequence of code in a pool of DNA," he explains. His idea is as simple - and as simplistic - as HTML The lovelorn use Vuong's trademarked Identification Coding System to convert their every physical, intellectual, and psychological attribute into a string of characters. SocialGridsters can surf Google for their ideal mate by typing in their most-wanted combination of codes. They can customize their searches to locate people of a particular height, religion, educational background, even level of risk tolerance. In Vuong's world humans become fully searchable, utterly logical, machine-readable data. It's an eccentric courtship strategy but it suits Vuong perfectly. "My ideal date is to go somewhere with our laptops and do work," he says with a grin. Spinning his computer around, he invites me to try his Soul mate Calculator, an app he wrote to convince people that they need his SocialGrid technology. A page full of pulldown menus and checkboxes boots up: The calculator uses a simple script to crunch US census figures on age, gender, and geographic location to estimate how many people I'll have to meet before I find my soul mate. To fill the thing out I need to decide what my potential mate's ethnicity should be, and whether I want him or her to be in the top 10 percent of people in terms of facial attractiveness, optimism, or musical talent. Vuong confides that he always picks "top 1 percent" on everything. The calculator crunches my data and tells me I need to meet 200 million people to find my true love. "It's a numbers game, and I can lower the search cost for people," Vuong says. Vuong's not only the owner of the SocialGrid, he's the number one client. "If I was a tall, good-looking white guy, I'd be on The Bachelor," he sighs. Recently, he looked into how much it would cost to put a personal ad up on a billboard next to the freeway. Resting his chin in his hand, Vuong fiddles with his tuna sandwich. As our coffee cools, I wonder aloud if Vuong's romantic quest leaves him lonely. "In reality, your soul mate is yourself," he replies with a laugh, wrapping his arms around his shoulders in a hug and then kissing his own hand. "It's like Mariah Carey says," he tells me, surprising our waiter with an impromptu serenade: "The hero lies in you."
|