As someone who truly cares about proper grammar, punctuation, spelling, writing complete and intelligible sentences, etc., I’ve noticed a disconcerting trend over the past several years: the blatant disrespect for, and subsequent overuse of, the long dash.
See, I have a soft spot for the long dash. It’s my most favoritest punctuation mark. When used appropriately, it can be extremely powerful. That’s because you’re supposed to use a dash “to set off an abrupt break or interruption and to introduce a long appositive or summary” or “to create emphasis or drama.” You don’t use it to replace a colon. Or a semi-colon. Or, for the love of beans, to replace a comma.
I first came to sympathize with the plight of the long dash during a summer internship after my junior year of college. I worked as a copy editor and designer at the Reno Gazette-Journal, and once a week, the news editor and I would go over my pages so she could give me advice on how to improve. She only had to point out the rampant abuse of the long dash in Associated Press copy once, and all of sudden, I couldn’t help but notice it. All. The. Time.
It’s almost like the AP was out to get the long dash for some transgression committed long ago. Perhaps the long dash accidentally flushed the childhood fish of one of the higher-ups, and years later, he/she issued a decree demanding it replace every form of punctuation whenever possible, thereby diminishing its power so it could never, ever do something like that again.
Or maybe they were just lazy and didn’t want to think about what kind of punctuation was actually appropriate, so they defaulted to the long dash. Whatever the reasoning, the trend has spread to all kinds of writers, and IT IS NOT OK. And I am taking a stand!
Take this sentence, for example:
“The golden ferret — despite being favored for second — beat all the other ferrets at the Ferret Derby.”
So, the ferret was favored to take second, but he actually took first? BFD. I mean, I’m really happy the ferret has achieved everything he’s ever dreamed of, but it doesn’t mean that clause requires the extra emphasis the dash provides. A comma would suffice:
“The golden ferret, despite being favored for second, beat all the other ferrets at the Ferret Derby.”
However, let’s say the golden ferret began the race with the odds against him:
“The golden ferret, despite having just half a leg, beat all the best-trained thoroughbreds by an hour at the Ferret Derby.”

His half-leg is so small you can’t even see it!
Wait — shut the mother-effing front door. Did I just read that right?! Let me read it again …
Yes, yes, I think I did. HOLY. SHIT. That golden ferret has just HALF A LEG, and he still managed to win by AN HOUR?!? He only has HALF AN EFFING LEG!!! HE’S A GODDAMN HALF-LEGGED FERRET!!! That shit is CRAZY!!
Here, setting off that clause with a long dash is necessary to convey the drama of the half-legged ferret’s victory:
“The golden ferret — despite having just half a leg — beat all the best-trained thoroughbreds by an hour at the Ferret Derby.”
I completely understand why people love the long dash and want to use it all the time. It’s pretty awesome. And I’ll be the first to admit I sometimes use it inappropriately on this very blog.
But when people continually overuse the dash, it loses the power that makes it so effective. It’s like if we capitalized every noun, not just proper ones. If we did that, how would we know which ones are important?
So, next time you’re about to haphazardly insert a long dash into your writing, stop and think about whether it’s actually necessary or if you’re just contributing to its demise.
And for those of you who love the long dash, don’t let me stop you. But please, don’t just love the dash — respect it, too.