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Welcome to the new books network. This is the nordic asia podcast. Welcome to the Nordic Asia Podcast, a collaboration sharing expertise on Asia across the Nordic region. I'm your host Jerke Blancay Rambhai, and I'm joining you from Estonia, where I'm a postdoctoral researcher at Risk and Exile at the center for Oriental Studies at the University of Tartu. I hold a PhD in Sociology from the University of Cambridge and Erasmus Mundus Master's double degrees in Russian, Central and East European Studies from University of Glasgow and Political Science from Corvinus University of Budapest. My research interests involve political participation, new media, civil society, queer studies, climate change, clan politics, democratization, transitional justice, and nation and state building, with a particular focus on the countries of post communist Europe and former Soviet Union. The results of my work have been published in Lexington Books, Roman and Littlefield in academic journals such as Central Asian Survey, Central Asian Affairs, Journal of Contemporary Asia and Media Asia. When people talk about dating apps, they often describe them as spaces of convenience and possibility. You open a dating app, you see nearby people you match, you talk and you maybe meet. In many contexts, these platforms are even described as safer alternatives to offline dating, especially for people who may face stigma in public life. According to Artur and Cabanis, dating apps offer a safe space away from heterosexist society for sexual minority men, particularly younger men, to explore and develop their sexual identity. In my research, I challenge these findings because far less is known about how these dynamics unfold in authoritarian settings where queer identities remain highly stigmatized. My work contributes to expanding research on queer digital practices beyond North America and Western Europe, as well as emerging work on Latin America or Turkey and India. In doing so, I show how these dynamics are reconfigured in a post Soviet and authoritarian context where digital infrastructures intersect with local cultural norms, state power and informal practices. What happens when a dating app is not just a tool for meeting people, but also a space where visibility itself can carry risk? What happens when each interaction requires not only emotional judgment but also careful assessment of safety, identity and trust? This is a question that guided my research on queer men using dating applications in two cities in Kazakhstan, Almaty and Shumkent. Last year I conducted 20 semi structured interviews with queer men aged 18 and over and a content analysis of dating apps that these queer men use in these two cities of Kazakhstan. The semi structured interviews were carried out in accordance with the research ethics guidelines of SDU University, which is based in Kaskalin Town in Kazakhstan. Instead of treating dating apps as neutral platforms, I approach them as environments shaped by broader social and political conditions where stigma, surveillance, and informal risks can all shape how people connect with each other. What I found is that dating apps in this context are not simply tools for connection. They are also systems that require constant navigation of uncertainty. LGBTQIA communities across the world increasingly use digital platforms to meet others, build relationships, and explore their identity. In Kazakhstan, this is especially important because public expressions of queer identity remain highly stigmatized and there are no comprehensive legal protections against discrimination based on sexual orientation or gender identity. At the same time, Kazakhstan is a digitally connected society. Smartphones, messaging apps, and social media are widely used, including within queer communities. This creates a situation where intimacy and risk are closely intervened in digital environments. My research focused specifically on queer men using dating apps in Shamkent and Alma to two big cities of Kazakhstan. I chose these two cities because they represent different social environments. Almaty is often seen as more open and diverse, while Shmkhen is generally more conservative with fewer visible offline queer spaces. The goal was not only to understand which apps people use, but to explore how they use them and how they manage stigma, identity and safety while doing so. One of the key findings is that different dating platforms are not interchangeable. They are used in distinct ways and each one carries different levels of visibility, trust, and risk. In my research, four main platforms appeared repeatedly Hornet, Grindr, and Tinder. Rather than functioning as simple dating tools, these apps operate as different kinds of social environments. For example, Vkontakte or VK Dating, which is often considered a general social media platform, is still widely used for queer communication, particularly through groups and private chats. However, it's also associated with higher levels of exposure, fake profiles and harassment. Hornet and Grindr, by contrast, are more explicitly designed for queer users. They allow location based matching and often more structured interaction. Many participants describe Hornet as especially popular in Almaty, while VK Dating remains more prominent in Shinkint. Tinder occupies a slightly different position. While not designed specifically for queer users, it's still used for dating by queer men. So it also comes with risks such as harassment from straight users or limited anonymity. What is important here is that it's not the technology itself, but how users interpret and adapt to it. Each platform is associated with different expectations of safety, also authenticity and exposure. A central insight from the study is that dating in this context is not just about forming connections, it's also about managing risk. Many participants described constantly evaluating whether profiles are genuine, whether someone might be deceptive, and whether an interaction could lead to harm. Concerns such as catfishing, blackmail and so called gay hunting were frequently mentioned. As a result, communication rarely stays on one platform. Instead, people move across multiple channels in a step by step process. A typical pattern might look like this initial contact on a dating app, then moving to WhatsApp or Telegram, followed by voice or video calls, and only then possibly meeting in person. Each step functions as a form of verification. Other strategies include checking mutual connections or profile history, analyzing photos for consistency, using video calls to confirm identity, avoiding face pictures on profiles, or using anonymous images to reduce visibility. Some participants also described using language strategically, such as speaking English to filter out unwanted attention or to interact with foreign users. These practices show that digital intimacy is not spontaneous, it's structured through continuous assessment and filtering. In this sense, dating apps are not just spaces of communication, they are also spaces of vigilance. These dynamics are shaped by the broader social environment in Kazakhstan. In the country, queer identities remain highly stigmatized while homosexuality is not criminalized. There are no strong legal protections against discrimination. At the same time, public discourse is often conservative and there have been increasing concerns about anti LGBTQIA sentiment in both online and offline spaces. Queer men also live in an era in which anti LGBTQIA movements are increasing both online and offline, and when Russian style LGBT propaganda and foreign agent laws are being discussed and even copied in Kazakhstan. Such democratic backsliding in a traditional state poses a significant threat to queer people. Conservative groups across Kazakhstan are increasingly using social media and dating apps to target and harass queer individuals both online and offline. One notable case was when activist Zhanrsi Kirbaeva was verbally and physically attacked by about 20 men in Shimkhen during a conference in 2021. Similar actions of harassment, attack and blackmail against representatives of non traditional sexual orientation have been observed in all parts of Kazakhstan. One of the most recent mobilizations by conservative groups in Kazakhstan against LGBTQIA community occurred in 2024 and last year also when civil servants and quasi government employees were coerced into signing a petition entitled we are against Open and Hidden Propaganda of LGBT and Republic of Kazakhstan. This all means that visibility can carry real consequences, including harassment, outing or social exclusion. These conditions are not the same across the country. In Almaty, my research participants described access to some offline query friendly spaces such as clubs or community venues. In Shunkin, however, many participants relied almost entirely on online platforms for meeting others. This difference matters because it shows how digital platforms do not replace offline infrastructure equally everywhere. In some places they supplement it, in others they become the only option. Sociological research often describes dating apps as partner markets where individuals compete for attention and present themselves strategically. Other frameworks describe them as back places, spaces where marginalized groups can interact more freely away from mainstream society. My findings suggest both of these ideas are only partially accurate. In this context, dating apps in Kazakhstan are better understood as ambivalent infrastructures. They do create opportunities for connection and self expression, but they also produce new forms of vulnerability. Visibility is not simply freedom, it's something that must be carefully managed. Similarly, while competition and self representation are clearly present, participation in these markets is not equal. It's shaped by access to safety strategies, platform literacy, and the ability to manage risk. In other words, intimacy here is always conditional. In conclusion, what my study ultimately shows is that digital intimacy is not just about technology or dating behavior. It's about how people navigate social environments where trust, identity and safety are constantly negotiated. Dating apps do not remove stigma. Instead, they reorganize it into new forms embedded in platforms such as dating apps, profiles and interactions. For queer men in Kazakhstan, these platforms are not simply tools for meeting others. They are infrastructures through which connection is possible, but never without risk. And understanding that tension is essential for thinking about how digital life actually works in contexts where visibility is still unevenly safe. This research is currently undergoing a second round of peer review and is expected to be published later this year. Now I would like to talk a bit about avenues for future research. Future studies could investigate how recent AI developments are affecting dating apps. Further research could also pay more attention to the technical development of dating apps, especially the safety and verification issues, as well as explore differences between urban and rural contexts. A third possible avenue for future research could be how queer men combine dating apps with social media in navigating their partner markets and managing queer stigma. Existing literature and public health data from Central Asia often overlook the intersection of digital platforms such as dating apps and sex economies. While global studies, especially from Southeast Asia, China and the US have documented how queer men use dating apps to facilitate commercial sex, similar research in Central Asian context remains scarce or non existent. It would be very useful for more research to be undertaken into how queer men navigate such practices in the often highly stigmatized and criminalized environments of Central Asia. Thank you for listening and joining the Nordic Asia Podcast showcasing Nordic collaboration in Studying Asia. You have been listening to the Nordic Asia Podcast, Sam.