The En Dash Dilemma: Saying Goodbye to a beloved friend

I’ve been meaning to write this little piece for a while now, because it really does make me a bit sad, so here it is.

I met the love of my life in 2020, back when I worked at the newspaper. I’d only just taken my first tentative steps through the jungle of the German language when I met you – the en dash. (In English, we use the em dash, but the pain is the same.) You were a grammar pirate, not a boring stick-in-the-mud like the comma.

We met and immediately began doing everything together. Reports, commentaries, articles of all kinds. You could do just about anything. You emphasised emotions, separated sections of meaning, created a melodramatic pause before a damning verdict. I even saw you as a small trademark, that’s how close we were.

And then everything changed

It could have gone on forever with us, but then everything changed. That damned AI. Trained on texts, mostly from the 19th and 20th centuries. Back then, you, my beloved en dash, were so much more popular. And suddenly, you were everywhere in the AI’s texts. You might think it’s no big deal, but you’d be wrong. Writers and creative people all over the world are rightly up in arms about the theft of their work. Anyone trying to figure out what’s been written by AI looks for clues, and you, my beloved en dash, are unfortunately a prime suspect.

Almost every guide identifies you as a clear sign of AI. And we, who have always loved you, are suddenly under suspicion. My beloved en dash, I’m sorry. I think we need to go our separate ways for a while. You’ve simply become a bit too conspicuous. I see you everywhere, and always think: that must have been the AI. I can’t trust you anymore. Perhaps we’ll meet again someday, but until then, I say thank you. For all the beautiful texts we’ve written together – I will always love you.