Karin Ciano, BridgeTower Media Newswires
OK, I admit it: I just wanted to write that headline. I’ve been chatting with some of my fellow word nerds about the use of dashes, and it seems we are less in agreement than usual, so it may be time to share my thoughts. As always, your comments are welcome!
Once upon a time there were typesetters. Typesetters — the folks who created professionally printed documents such as books and newspapers — had access to all kinds of cool punctuation, including horizontal lines in three different lengths. The longest was called an em-dash because it was the width of the letter “m.” The medium line was called an en-dash because it was the width of the letter “n.” And the shortest was called the hyphen because...I have no idea. (Seriously, I’ve looked — if you know the answer, help me out.)
Then someone invented the typewriter, which is how ordinary people created legible documents before the computer age. Those of us old enough to remember one will recall that the typewriter did not offer us the options of em- or en-dashes; all we got was a hyphen. (And I had to type my school papers while walking uphill. Both ways.)
Even though users of the typewriter had only a hyphen at our disposal, we aspired to the flourish of typesetters, and so we created a work-around. We typed two hyphens in a row to indicate an em-dash. One hyphen with spaces around it served as an en-dash. And a hyphen with no spaces was just a hyphen.
Fast-forward to the age of word processing — when even grade-school kids have access to professional-quality fonts. With great power comes great responsibility to know the rules and follow them. The Chicago Manual of Style notes that discerning when to use which dash “is a sign of editorial precision and care.” Wondering how to get some of that precision for your own writing? Read on.
The em-dash, the en-dash, and the hyphen all have distinct personalities. Let’s imagine them at Thanksgiving dinner together.
Hyphen is your unassuming BFF. Normally she’s a homebody, but today she shows up early with hotdish cozies full of delicious gluten-free, vegan side-dishes plus the items you forgot to buy and are just realizing you needed. She’s almost invisible but there when you need her: to break syllables of a word at the end of a line, for multiple surnames, for prefixes before they become commonplace (e-mail, anyone?). She’s happy joining any two words together, except adverbs ending in “ly,” to which she is allergic. Her best party trick is rolling out dazzling strings of knock-your-socks-off-and-ring-the-bell phrasal adjectives that will wow your readers (and in the service of her art she will even put up with “ly” words — as in Brian Garner’s example, “a not-so-highly-regarded-advocate can sometimes make a stunningly good argument.”).
The table is set, the guests are assembling, and who’s that ringing the door? That would be cousin Em-dash, who usually arrives with a posse (often her buddies That is, Namely, and For example). You take her lovely coat, admire her outfit, find chairs for her friends. Em-dash is the famous dash — when you think of a dash, it’s probably her. Lesser punctuation must obey strict rules when approaching her (check out the Chicago Manual if you doubt me). Her party trick is drama. She draws attention to herself and to anyone near her. When you want a red-carpet moment — a pause, a spotlight on a particular phrase or clause, an abrupt break in thought — you go to Em-dash.
We’ve sat down, given thanks for the meal, and folks are chatting. Suddenly you realize you’re sitting next to your mysterious cousin En-dash. En-dash is the quiet type. You don’t see him often and it’s hard to remember what he does. You ask. “My primary function is to stand in for the word ‘to’,” he offers. A long pause. It’s an awkward moment, but you are gracious. “Oh really? How’s that?” you ask. Another long pause. “A 9-5 job, that’s me. Or when the score is 13-6. Or the vote is 8-1. Or the pages are 158-59.” Another long pause as En-dash looks down. “Sorry, I’m not much for words, I prefer the company of numbers.” Hyphen looks across the table and flirts with him playfully: “That’s not true. I hear you can make phrasal adjectives as well as I can.” En-dash blushes and excuses himself to go play video games with the kids in the basement.
So, if you aspire to editorial precision, let’s give thanks for the multitude of options presented by the English language:
When you’re doing detail work and need to focus on a single word or phrase, think of the hyphen. It breaks a word across lines, connects a word to a prefix, and can create a dazzling phrasal adjective (which the reader will view as a single word).
When you need to indicate a range and would otherwise use “to,” choose en-dash. That’s what it does, and nothing else will substitute.
For everything else — for drama, poetry, attention — go for em-dash. You won’t regret it.
