Special to Western News

Age-gap relationships – romantic partnerships in which there is a significant age difference – are of enduring interest. They’re also often framed as a question of morality. Society has strong feelings about things like the potential for power imbalances or evolutionary instincts, for example. When I was 27, I dated a man who was nearly my father’s age. This didn’t reflect an established age preference pattern for either one of us, and I pursued him. We were together for eight months, but it didn’t end well. Was our 20-year age gap the problem? Not entirely, but it certainly didn’t help. Rather than simply being about age, what actually shapes the success or failure of these relationships revolves around the advantages that shape how we move through the world, including youth, time, health, accumulated power, wealth or life experience. When I saw Netflix launched its latest reality dating show based on age-gap relationships earlier this month, I knew the controversial premise would spark debate as a scholar of television and media representation.  

Age gaps make us uncomfortable

The Age of Attraction purports to test whether love is “truly ageless,” following couples with large age gaps to see if their relationships can withstand the stigma and pressures of the real world. Reality shows are constructed to reinforce (and sometimes challenge) particular social norms. Looking at age-gap relationships in this context offers important insight. When older people perpetually date younger ones, for example, they may be trying to avoid confronting the reality of aging. And when younger people are consistently attracted to older ones, they may be drawn to the financial security that often comes with it. But age isn’t the only variable to consider when unpacking age-gap dynamics in heterosexual relationships – gender matters too. While studies suggest that these “May-December romances” are likely to be perceived negatively regardless of the “December,” or older, partner’s gender, there are a number of factors influencing the greater social acceptability of older men with younger women. These include fertility and gendered standards of beauty. In The Age of Attraction, set in the intimate setting of a forest retreat near Whistler, B.C., 40 singles go on a series of face-to-face speed dates with one caveat. Until they are ready to officially commit to moving forward with a potential partner, they must not ask or answer the question: “How old are you?” There are an equal number of men and women, and they range in age from 22 to 60. While participants did have to indicate how much younger or older they would be willing to date, they are expected to focus on finding a meaningful connection without age getting in the way. Once that’s done, they then commit to the next stage of the experiment: living together for two weeks in a condo in Vancouver. Promise rings are then exchanged and ages are, finally, revealed. Withholding age from viewers until this point allows us to consider how much of our own response to age gaps is perceptual rather than material. We may root for particular pairings only to have to re-evaluate once age is known. And this is because we form judgments based on what we think people should want or be capable of at different stages of life, rather than what is true about a unique and specific situation.  

What psychology says about age gaps

Though these dynamics can’t be examined in isolation, they are increasingly being staged and scrutinized in popular culture. Psychology research suggests that we tend to perceive older partners as benefiting more from age-gap relationships than younger ones. This fuels a widespread paternalistic belief that younger partners are more vulnerable to manipulation, despite the contrary argument that women have evolved to seek an older mate. Vanessa, who is 49 years old, and 29-year-old Logan are a clear generational mismatch in the Netflix show. She has been engaged (but never married) four times, while he says he wants kids but has never introduced a partner to his parents. They appear to be “trying on” a partnership that is fraught with conflict, as each one jockeys to control the other. The gentle dynamic that 23-year-old Pfeiffer and 43-year-old Derrick have is built on quiet conversation and mutual respect. However, they have their own set of problems. He is established in his career with two children, and so for her to be in a relationship with him, she would need to move from Seattle to Texas – something she struggles with in principle as she believes “giving up everything for a relationship” fundamentally undermines her values. When we imagine introducing a much older or younger partner to family, friends or even colleagues, we can’t help but anticipate negative judgment, and this becomes a barrier to discerning what or who actually makes us happy. In addition to going from dating to living together in less than two weeks, surprise visits from friends and family are engineered. Theresa, 54 years of age, struggles with this the most, as she had counted on being able to introduce 27-year-old John to her three children in their 20s on her own timeline. When forced into a meeting, she refuses to tell them his age. Having to acknowledge openly that she is dating a man younger than her oldest son, who is 29, provokes the realization that her children will also be vulnerable to social judgment if she continues the relationship. These portrayals reflect broader psychological assumptions about age and power, illustrating how imbalances play out in practice.  

The truth behind relationship failure

In the final commitment ceremony, all three couples say “yes” to continuing their relationships after the show ends. But will their relationships survive once the cameras stop rolling? With reality TV, it’s always difficult to say. But what we can accept is that age gaps themselves are not inherently problematic. As the depictions of these Age of Attraction couples suggest, what can make or break an age-gap relationship is the discrepancy in social power between partners — the greater it is, the more potential there is for conflict and incompatibility. Sometimes, even love isn’t enough. Tiara Sukhan, Assistant Professor, Faculty of Information & Media Studies, Western University This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.