In Defense of Em Dashes (and Offense of Artificial Intelligence)

If you’ve read any of my blog posts, you know I utilize em dashes even more frequently than I reference TVTropes—and why wouldn’t I? You’re telling me there’s a mid-sentence punctuation mark that works for separating both dependent and independent clauses? A mark that can also function as a louder parenthesis if placed on either side of a word or phrase? And—unlike the semicolon—it doesn’t have a reputation for being bizarrely intimidating? The em dash is an English major’s dream come true.

Sadly, this short horizontal line has started to develop its own stigma: the widespread notion that its presence automatically denotes AI-generated content. 

The principal argument is that em dashes don’t come on standard keyboards. Therefore, most people don’t know how to use them, and if they do, they mostly type two hyphens (- -). However, there are several viable workarounds for human writers, such as pressing and holding down the hyphen (on touchscreens), keyboard shortcuts, and copying and pasting. In fact, if you type two consecutive hyphens in Google Docs, they’ll automatically become one em dash. That’s how I get them in my blog posts.

Now, I have a confession: I’m a frequent lurker on r/AmITheAngel, a snark subreddit of r/AmITheAsshole and its spin-offs. I enjoy seeing highly exaggerated, disingenuous, or outright fake posts ripped apart—especially those that clearly have an agenda of drumming up hate against marginalized populations. But when the vast majority of AITA-type posts these days are obviously written by chatbots, the clichés of the advice-seeking format become quite pronounced.

These posts are increasingly hitting the same handful of tropes and plot beats, often involving touchy subjects like infidelity, blended families, and parental favoritism. Some phrases, such as “I calmly explained” and “blowing up my phone,” have become so overused on AITA and adjacent subs that many Redditors can no longer take them seriously. 

Unfortunately, it seems proper punctuation has been caught in this crossfire, with more and more comments identifying “those weird dashes” as a sign of an AI-generated post. They claim nobody writes that way, to which I say I am somebody, and only a Sith deals in absolutes. While I can live without the validation of miscellaneous Redditors, I don’t want readers of this blog to think I’d ever let a bot “write” on my behalf.

Like numerous other wordsmiths, I worry about the ubiquity of AI. It’s supposed to be a tool, just like a spelling or grammar checker, but users are increasingly treating it as a ghostwriter, search engine, and conversational partner. Every time someone begins a post with the words “I asked ChatGPT,” I momentarily find myself relating to the Amish community. Why did you ask ChatGPT? You could have given that prompt to any human with relevant expertise, and almost certainly gotten a more comprehensive and factual response.

It’s also irresponsible to overlook the environmental impact of generative AI. I’m not going to pretend my individual carbon emissions are a net negative, but if continuing to write my own damn posts can save some water and electricity, I’m all for it.

Here’s the thing: AI doesn’t create. It takes existing writing by competent authors (who know how to use em dashes), finds patterns that fit whatever instructions someone has fed it, and shits out a feeble mimicry that’s (usually) grammatically sound but can’t quite emulate the nuance and clever wordplay of professional prose. 

For some reason, though, many social media addicts seem to view this material as stiff and robotic because of its technical correctness, rather than its lack of originality. If people continue dismissing proper punctuation as something only AI bothers to use, they’re effectively encouraging fellow humans to be less conscientious about structuring their communications—and that is a dangerous precedent.

How can modern writers adapt to these circumstances without sacrificing quality? My idea could very well slip the slope in the other direction, but at this point, I just want to keep the fucking bots from supplanting us. 

We should start training AI on the shittiest writing in existence.

Feed it My Immortal. Make it choke on Tara Gilesbie’s mangled English until it’s no longer sure how many periods constitute an ellipsis, what “passively” means, or if the story’s protagonist is supposed to be named Ebony, Enoby, Enobby, Eboby, Egogy, or Ibony. Stuff it with 1-star self-published lit, barely-coherent copypastas, and botched subtitles from Chinese bootlegs of The Lord of the Rings. 

Hell, dig up those texts from that weird guy with whom you went on a single date when you were 19 and he was 26, whose spelling and grammar were so monumentally atrocious that each message obliterated your sense of attraction until you just found him annoying. (That’s a totally normal college experience, right?)

If large language models are going to act like lazy students copying their classmates’ answers, they deserve to fail the proverbial test. (The Turing test is another matter.) Same goes for text-to-visual models that plagiarize art. Hayao Miyazaki is an international treasure, and it’s a travesty that even his iconic work isn’t safe from AI fuckery. 

A robot uprising might be inevitable, but humans can at least try to delay it. In the meantime, I’ll keep using “those weird dashes,” and you should, too. Punctuation, spelling, and grammar are good things—they’re the difference between knowing your shit and knowing you’re shit.