I’ve always loved exploring the roots of punctuation. It’s a quiet, often overlooked layer of language, one that shapes how we pause, how we pace ourselves, how we hint, divert, conclude, or surprise.
Each symbol carries its own set of rules, its own curious past, and its own role in clarifying meaning. And among these marks, the humble and common standard dash, known as the en dash, and its longer, brasher cousin, the em dash — have particularly intriguing tales to tell.
Let’s start with the basics. They are, broadly, the two types of dashes in regular use today: the en dash (–) and the em dash (—).
The ‘standard’ dash that most people are familiar with is actually a bit of a hybrid. It’s often typed as a single dash, or hyphen (-) due to current QWERTY keyboard limitations, but it is meant to function as either an en or em dash depending on context.
The em dash gets its name from its width: traditionally, it is the same width as a capital letter M. The en dash is half that width — the length of a capital N. They may look similar, but their usage — and their origin — (note use of em dash there and how it assists in making ‘and their origin’ stand out?) sets them apart.
The em dash originated in early printing.
Printers in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries needed a visual pause that was stronger than a comma but less final than a full stop. Enter the em dash: a versatile mark that could create emphasis, set off additional thoughts, or indicate interruption in dialogue.
Writers like Emily Dickinson famously used the em dash to striking effect — and while some accused her of overuse, others saw in it a powerful stylistic signature.
Today, the em dash serves as a more informal alternative to parentheses or commas. It can break up a sentence — like this — to add colour or dramatic pause. It can also take the place of a colon: She had only one thing on her mind — revenge. And in dialogue, it denotes interruption:
‘I just thought that maybe—'
‘No, you didn’t.’
The en dash, meanwhile, is more subtle and functional. It’s typically used to indicate ranges, such as pages 45–52 or the London–Paris train — and can sometimes imply connection or contrast between words (as in the liberal–conservative divide).
Think of it as standing in for the word ‘to’.
The key, really, is clarity. The em dash is expressive, the en dash is structural.
One dances, the other builds.
I love how even these two small lines — almost invisible to a casual reader — (there’s the em dash again) reveal such rich history and intention. They remind us that punctuation is more than technical correctness. It’s craft. It’s tone. It’s rhythm. And just as a composer chooses rests and pauses with care, so too must we as writers.
The dash, in all its forms, is a small invitation to linger — and to listen.
*A handy keyboard shortcut for the em dash can be found by holding down your Alt key whilst typing 0151 on your numeric keypad-make sure Num Lock is on first.
