What the Em Dash Says About AI-assisted Writing—And Us

We’re living through a moment when the question of how something was made threatens to eclipse what it’s trying to say. Why are we so quick to judge writing based on superficial signs of AI? There has to be a better way to evaluate work that uses it. Instead of asking how something was made, perhaps we should ask whether it’s good—and how we might learn to tell.

The em dash debate, to me, points to an underlying assumption that if AI helped make something, it couldn’t possibly have been made thoughtfully. That fear doesn’t come out of nowhere. It’s a reaction to the discomfort of living through a technological transition, when the ground is shifting under our feet. We worry that if something is easy to produce, it must be worth less. We worry that the skills we take pride in are being absorbed by something faster, cheaper, and less human.

The trust between reader and writer is intact. So how do you read that way? Here are a couple of ways that have helped me be a “more active participant” of what I consume on the internet: Practice curating with intention Before I begin reading a piece, I stop to ask myself why I’m reading it. This has helped me be more intentional in what I consume. I want to read more thoughtful takes about technology, culture, and how they shape each other, for instance, so I subscribe to independent bloggers Jasmine Sun, Sam Kriss, and Henrik Karlsson I want to learn more about English literature, both classic and contemporary—and I say this as someone who regrets not majoring in it—so I’ve been following writer and critic Henry Oliver, the literary analysis blog A Useful Fiction, and The Paris Review for guidance. The idea here is to develop a sustainable habit, so think about what you want, and what will feed your curiosity. Turn information into understanding I always try to intellectually engage with a piece, instead of passively absorbing information, by highlighting, making summaries, and drawing comparisons. It’s admittedly a little high-friction to commit to doing this, but the payoff is worth it.

The upshot is that the more time and thought you spend with a piece, the less you focus on superficial appearances. This is a big part of how we go about our work at Every. So yes, we still use the em dash—not as a defiant stand, but simply because we find it useful in creating clear, thoughtful writing.