Is online dating racist?

“On an individual level, a person can’t really control who turns them on — and almost everyone has a ‘type’, one way or another,” says app co-founder Christian Rudder. “But I do think the trend — the fact that race is a sexual factor for so many individuals, and in such a consistent way — says something about race’s role in our society.”

Another app, The Grade, ranks the “hottest” names for men and women in terms of receiving the most matches online. There is not a single obviously ethnic name in the top 50 for either sex, with the most popular including Erika, Lexi, Brianna for women and Tyler, Brett and Corey for men.

In a bid to prove this racial bias on apps I once changed my name from Radhika to Rachel. I kept my photos and bio the same and swiped left on 100 men for both avatars. In an hour, Rachel had 28 matches — double the amount as Radhika — and not one of hers asked about race. Radhika wasn’t so lucky.

The hope is that things are starting to change. In a study this year, Tinder found that 68 per cent of its users are “very open” to the idea of interracial dating or marriage — something the royals are also bringing to a wider consciousness this year with Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s upcoming wedding — and the dating app is now campaigning for the 21st-century marker of equality: new emoji. Right now the only couple emoji comes in matching yellow — but the app is hoping to persuade Unicode to create different interracial emoji options, and its petition already has more than 25,000 signatures. When I was with my (white) ex, I did notice our lack of emoji representation, and in true #FirstWorldProblem style, was forced to use separate emojis to symbolise our relationship.

Interracial emojis will fix this problem, and may even join the royals in spreading awareness of the very real issues couples of different races still face today. But it isn’t going to put an end to the ever-confusing ethics of dating someone with an ethnic name.

As a journalist and author with a public profile, I have added struggles. Apps such as Tinder and Bumble automatically link to your Facebook account, so potential dates know my first name and profession. For Sarahs and Johns in any field, this is not a problem. For Radhikas who are journalists, this is enough to pull up everything about me on Google, including articles that touch on past relationships and political views.

It means I’ve been on far too many first dates where men have admitted they’ve Googled me. One said he had realised I was a feminist — would it bother me if he paid for the bill for dinner? It didn’t. Another spent the night trolling me on feminist articles I’d written, which I had no desire to discuss on a date.

In a bid to escape the weight of my ethnic name, I have resorted to drastic measures. I have created a new Facebook account with my nickname “Rad” to link up to my dating profiles. I even tried to log back in to my 2013 OkCupid account to embrace my old username RS123 but found the app requires a full name, so I gave Rad another profile.

I do feel guilty about it — am I denying my roots just to get a date? — and it brings with it the awkwardness of realising you’re on a third date with someone who still doesn’t know your full name. But apparently most millennials refuse to tell dates their surnames to avoid the Googling. This is just the 2.0 ethnic version of maintaining an element of mystery.

Plus, it works. Not a single man has managed to ambush me with my life history on a first date since I became Rad. The only problem is I now get even more curious questions about my skin colour — “Is that a Latino tan?” is a favourite — and there’s a new aspect of my name to question: “So, are you as Rad as your name, then?”