A curious new form of literary detection has emerged.
Someone reads an article, blog post or social-media comment, spots an em dash and immediately declares: “Ah, that was written by AI.”
Case closed, apparently.
Except that it proves nothing of the sort.
The em dash was not invented by ChatGPT. It was not created by artificial intelligence, nor was it quietly introduced into the English language by a team of computer programmers. It has been used by novelists, journalists, essayists, editors and professional copywriters for generations—long before artificial intelligence began producing written content.
Writers including Charles Dickens, Virginia Woolf, James Joyce and Emily Dickinson made extensive use of dashes. They are found throughout newspapers, magazines and published books. Pick up almost any professionally edited work of prose and, sooner or later, you are likely to encounter one.
The current suspicion appears to have arisen because AI-generated text often uses em dashes. That much is true. But AI also uses commas, full stops, paragraphs and correctly spelt words. We do not immediately conclude that every sentence containing a semicolon was written by a machine.
Assuming that an em dash proves the involvement of AI is therefore not clever detection. It is a response bordering on ignorance—ignorance of punctuation, publishing and the long history of written English.
It can also be insulting.
Professional writers develop their own rhythms, habits and preferences. Some favour short sentences. Others use semicolons, brackets or colons. Many use em dashes because they allow a thought to be interrupted, expanded or emphasised without bringing the sentence to a complete halt.
Short sentences, short paragraphs and plenty of white space have long been part of my own writing style.
I use them deliberately.
They give the reader room to breathe. They help create pace and rhythm. They allow an important sentence to stand alone and have an impact, rather than becoming lost in a dense block of text. Above all, they make writing appear welcoming and accessible. I want people to read what I write, not feel intimidated by it.
The em dash is part of that same approach. It enables me to pause, change direction or add an observation while maintaining the natural flow of the piece.
Used well, an em dash creates pace and adds emphasis:
I opened the envelope—and immediately wished I hadn’t.
It can introduce an aside:
The manuscript—already more than 80,000 words long—still needed another chapter.
It can also create a pause stronger than a comma but less final than a full stop:
There was only one possible answer—no.
That is not “AI writing”. It is punctuation.
When someone responds to my work with the accusation that it “must have been written by AI” simply because it contains em dashes, short paragraphs or white space, they are making a false accusation. These were features of my writing long before ChatGPT existed.
AI did not teach me to write this way.
If anything, AI has learnt from millions of writers who already did—including me and myriad others. Artificial intelligence mimics patterns found in human writing; human writers do not become imitators merely because a machine has subsequently learnt to reproduce some of their techniques.
To claim otherwise is to put the cart spectacularly before the horse.
Part of the confusion also comes from people treating every horizontal mark as if it were interchangeable. It is not.
The em dash (—) is the longest of the three. It is used to mark an interruption, an aside, a change of direction or an emphatic conclusion.
The en dash (–) is slightly shorter. Its most familiar role is to indicate a range or connection:
Pages 12–20.
The years 1939–45.
The London–Brighton route.
A 3–1 victory.
The hyphen (-) is shorter again and has a different purpose. Its principal job is to join words—or parts of words—that belong together:
Well-known author.
Part-time job.
Mother-in-law.
Twenty-one.
Self-published book.
Five-year-old child.
It may also be used when a word is divided at the end of a printed line, although modern word-processing software generally handles that automatically.
What a hyphen should not routinely be asked to do is impersonate an em dash:
I opened the envelope - and immediately wished I hadn’t.
We all see this construction, particularly online. It may be understandable and sometimes results from limitations in keyboards or publishing systems, but it is not the correct typographical mark. A hyphen joins; a dash separates, interrupts or extends a thought.
Using a hyphen as a substitute for an em dash is rather like using a comma where a full stop is required. The reader will probably understand what was intended, but that does not make the punctuation correct or the writing polished.
There are different publishing conventions concerning spaces. In most American styles, an em dash appears without spaces—like this. Some British publications prefer a spaced en dash – like this – for parenthetical remarks. Both can be legitimate house styles.
A spaced hyphen - like this - is not the same thing.
Of course, punctuation can be overused. A paragraph littered with em dashes can become breathless and distracting, just as too many exclamation marks, commas or brackets can irritate the reader. Good writing depends upon judgement, rhythm and variety.
But the mere presence of an em dash is not evidence that a piece was produced by artificial intelligence.
It may simply indicate that the writer understands punctuation—and has developed a recognisable style of their own.
So, by all means, question something that sounds bland, repetitive, oddly impersonal or suspiciously formulaic. Those may be reasonable grounds for wondering whether AI has been involved.
But pointing triumphantly at an em dash, a short sentence or a piece of white space and shouting “ChatGPT!” does not expose the writer.
It exposes the accuser.
