Signal: Don’t Let the AI Take EM Dashes Away From You

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming for an important message from Bloxspring’s VP of Content.

I love EM dashes—there, I said it. I love semi-colons too; in fact, I’m outright mad for them. I have adored these bits of punctuation for a long time—I’m talking decades, not years, back when ChatGPT was just a twinkle in Sam Altman’s eye.

And, yet, recently, I have been made to feel shame for my usage of these style elements. I have been counseled that my fondness for them makes my writing seem too much like AI.

I have been a professional writer my entire adult life. I have a Masters in Creative Writing from one of the United States’ most storied writing programs; I wrote my first novel as an undergraduate while completing my BA in creative writing. I have taught composition to disinterested freshmen and instructed enthusiastic students in the art of fiction writing. I have written in a wide array of professional styles and genres, from music criticism to academic white papers to television pilots.

In other words, I am a writer. I don’t use AI to generate content. I do it the old-fashioned way—with my friggin mind and, even after all these years, two index fingers hunting and pecking across the keyboard with all the grace of a blind woodpecker going at a tree.

So, I’m not going to use AI to generate writing. But, by the same token, I’m not going to let AI take anything from me. It’s not going to dictate how I can and cannot write.

Nor should it. Because if those well-meaning comments from friends and colleagues are intended to ensure that my narratives come across as genuine, as authentically human, running from particular bits of punctuation because they scan as “too AI” means sacrificing the very subjectivity we’re all searching for.

What does all this have to do with marketing and the built world? More than you might think. And, yes, I know asking a question and then answering it is a technique that the AI has also coopted. I don’t care.

And nor should any CMOs, marketing directors, or anyone else trying to market their product, property, or platform to the built world. In an era when authenticity is rapidly fading from view—becoming submerged in the ever-gathering aether of deep fake videos, AI generated photos of animals that are literally too cute to be real, and LLM-generated narrative slop—it’s also becoming our most precious commodity, as individuals and as businesses.

Now, if I had the AI editor turned on right now, it would come at me for the above sentence. It would suggest probably half a dozen ways that I could make it “more concise.” But that would drain all the personality from it. It would erase what makes it pleasurable to read, as well as write; it would kill its authenticity and replace it with something generic and safe.

The companies that make an impact in this ever-shifting environment are the ones that remain authentic and true to their own voice–regardless of whether it happens to align with what the LLMs are doing or not.

That means when the AI in my google doc begins to finish my sentence for me, I don’t accept its suggestion automatically; but I also don’t refrain from using it, if it happens to align with what I was already planning to say anyway.

I won’t let the AI tell me how to write, but I also won’t let it tell me how not to write.

• Write your own content.

• Don’t write a certain way because of AI

• Don’t avoid writing in a particular way because of AI

• Find a tone of voice and stick with it, or don’t

That last one is particularly relevant for brands seeking authenticity in the big ‘26. Marketing and writing professionals, like me, will often counsel brands about the importance of tone of voice. We will suggest that a tone of voice needs to be established and rigidly adhered to; that it’s part of what grants a brand a clear identity, and that identity is what humanizes the brand and helps people feel connected to it.

There’s truth to all of those notions, but if we adhere to them too rigidly, we risk sacrificing authenticity.

AI has made it easier than ever for brands to find a tone of voice and then generate content that slavishly reproduces that same tenor over and over again. But that kind of one-note conception of authorial style isn’t particularly human at all, and if brands (and people) want to appear authentic in this new paradigm, it may be time to adjust our approach.

Human beings, including writers, don’t just speak (or write) in a single tone of voice. We modulate our approach depending on our audience and situation. I don’t address my coworkers in the same tone I use with my wife; similarly, I don’t speak to my colleagues the same way in a meeting that I do during a social event. Brands should take the same approach.

Find a tone of voice and use it when it’s appropriate, but don’t be afraid to alter it when necessary or even just opportune. One day your brand might feel authoritative; on another, it could be playful. That kind of tonal diversity enhances your brand’s authenticity, because it’s clear the content has been created by and for human beings.

So, the next time you’re working on a sletter for your fledgling proptech brand and you’re hesitating over using an EM dash because it feels “a bit too AI,” or you’re considering pulling that parenthetical aside you made because it doesn’t conform to brand guidelines, quiet that judgemental voice and take the authentic path, the one that feels most true to you.

Or don’t. I mean, what do I know? I’m just a human being.