The Disappearing Semicolon; Has English Education Failed Us?

The media, both legacy and online, continue to herald the death of the semicolon. Perhaps this is meant merely as a distraction from the events unfolding in world politics, particularly the death of democracy as fascism rises in the USA. I’ve previously lamented the misuse and unuse of the semicolon here, but usually in the context of sloppy local media and townhall writing. However, judging at least by the linked articles below, it is a much larger issue than differences over usage and style, and it affects English writers worldwide. It may be the metaphorical ‘canary in the coal mine’ for both English and general education in the language.

Or, perhaps, it’s just a ripple in the tide of change that our language continues to go through, and the semicolon is destined to join the thorn and the yogh as a grammatical fossil. One can only hope not.

Now, I accept, albeit grudgingly, that few people outside some pedants, writers, and editors, are likely to read style guides or punctuation manuals (although for some of us, they can be quite immersive and compelling…). Even though most of us use the English language daily in both spoken and written form, we seldom have the urge (or need) to refer to technical guidelines about that usage. After all, we can communicate quite well without knowing about the minutiae of the rules that underpin our language. No one doubts the meaning of the phrase, “It ain’t necessarily so,” despite the several laws of grammar it breaks. And a text message with “c u 4 dnr 2nite” is understandable even in its primitive pidgin.

But — and there’s always a ‘but’ —  writing is different from speaking. Writing comes with rules that formalize communication for clarity and comprehension. Spoken communication, with its intonations, inflections, gestures, facial expressions, sighs, stutters, and pauses, can express ideas, emotions and thoughts in ways printed text cannot do so easily, so the rules for writing help our words convey context, content, intention, and meaning. Like driving or any other mechanical skill, anyone who practices that skill needs to learn the rules to do it well (metaphorically, I look at speaking like a ramble over the hills and through the woods; writing like driving on a busy highway and staying in the proper lane and speed, but I am prone to stretch my metaphors somewhat).

Many of these rules were developed over centuries, but never widely accepted until printing came along. With the invention of printing and the subsequent rise of literacy, rules and the new punctuation forms began to spread and gain acceptance. The semicolon itself has been used since the Renaissance. In 1494, it was first introduced into print by Italian printer Aldus Manutius (in the Latin book De Aetna, written by Pietro Bembo).*

If we lose the semicolon, we lose more than a quirky little glyph. We lose some of that linguistic history, and we lose our talent in using it creatively, subtly, and cunningly. No emoji, no emoticon, no other punctuation glyph can replace it.

Let’s back up a little: let me explain briefly what a semicolon is before I get into the kerfuffle over it. Benjamin Dreyer writes in his highly readable book, Dreyer’s English: An Utterly Correct Guide to Clarity and Style:

… the most basic use of semicolons is to divide the items in a list any of whose individual elements mandate a comma … but if that were the sum total use of semicolons, they would not invite, from certain writers who should certainly know better, stuffy derision.

He could have said more. For example, the Chicago Manual of Style (17th edition) adds, dryly,

… semicolons—when not separating items in a syntactically complex series—should separate independent clauses.

(You can also take a CMOS quiz about semicolons here.)

Jeremy Butterfield, editor of the latest (fourth) edition of Fowler’s Dictionary of Modern English Usage (2015), adds,

Its main role is to mark a grammatical separation that is stronger in effect than a comma, but less strong than a full stop. Normally the two parts of a sentence divided by a semicolon balance or complement each other, as distinct from leading from one to another, in which case a colon is usually more suitable.

Butterfield also notes, “The semicolon is the least confidently used of the regular punctuation marks in ordinary writing, and the one least in evidence to anyone rifling through the pages of a modern novel.”**

But why, we are left to wonder, do writers of modern fiction lack confidence in using it? Writers in previous eras seem to have delighted in them. As one article notes:

Semicolons have long played a prominent role in classic literature. Journalist Amelia Hill notes that Virginia Woolf relies heavily on semicolons in her meditation on time, Mrs Dalloway. The novel includes more than 1000 of them, often used in unorthodox ways, to capture the flow of its protagonist’s thoughts.

Not all modern authors lack such confidence. In 2008, author Philip Hensher defended punctuation in general and the semicolon in particular when he said,

As a linguistic aid it presents opportunities to display refinement which go well beyond the fulfilment of a mere rule, and when French commentators express regret over its decline they are suggesting that expressive and elegant usage is being eroded…
Certainly, the semi-colon often acts as an indication of order and control. It often surfaces in those epigrams summing up a novel’s action and meaning which novelists sometimes like to begin with – the first sentence of Anna Karenina, or of V S Naipaul’s A Bend in the River. It often signals a degree of irony – how appropriate, in the age of emoticons, that the semi-colon has been co-opted into the representation of a wink, thus 😉***

Bryan Garner, in Garner’s Modern English Usage: The Authority on Grammar, Usage, and Style (5th edition, pp. 902-903), writes the semicolon,

… separates sentence parts that need a more distinct break than a comma can signal, but that are too closely connected to be made into separate sentences. Typically these will be clauses of similar importance and grammatical construction.

Garner goes on to detail the usage in four examples, and notes at the end of his entry that, “The most common misuse  of the semicolon is to place it where a colon belongs … the semicolon stops the forward movement, whereas the colon marks a forward movement.”

Cecelia Watson writes in her book, Semicolon: The Past, Present and Future of a Misunderstood Mark, that “A semicolon requires effort and thought to deploy, and as we’ve seen, some writers avoid them entirely… Punctuation can let a sentence run or it can hold it in check. Either way, the effect can be thrilling.” She adds, almost wistfully,

The semicolon is a place where our anxieties and our aspirations about language, class and education are concentrated. In this small mark big ideas are distilled down to a few winking drops of ink.

I could add references from others, including my well-worn Strunk and White, but all have similar descriptions. None of this is difficult; it just requires practice and thought. But like the apostrophe, for many people today it seems to present a hurdle over which they are reluctant, if not recalcitrant, to leap. On social media, where people frequently can’t tell the difference between ‘you’re’ and ‘your’ or ‘there,’ they’re,’ and ‘their,’ trying to get them to use a semicolon seems an excursion into the exotic. You might as well try to teach such people cuneiform.

So while the media announces the death of the semicolon, I feel compelled to ask why the semicolon is — allegedly — in jeopardy any more than the other forms of punctuation and rules of grammar that are under assault? Is it thanks to IQ-lowering effects of social media and technology? Are schools in our age of plummeting public funding and rightwing dislike of education failing to teach basic English punctuation? The use of generative AI? And is it localized or has it spread like a virus across English-speaking nations?

And what, if anything, can be done to revitalize it? Are its defenders all just voces clamantes in deserto?

The Guardian ran a story in May 2025 titled, Marked decline in semicolons in English books, study suggests. It had a subhead, “Usage of punctuation down almost half in two decades as further research finds 67% of British students rarely use it.” Although it doesn’t speak to what is happening in Canada, and I have not found any similar research that looks into our usage, I suspect Canadian students would show similar results.

…with its usage in English books plummeting by almost half in two decades – from one appearing in every 205 words in 2000 to one use in every 390 words today… 67% of British students never or rarely use the semicolon. Just 11% of respondents described themselves as frequent users.

But, perhaps outside the UK, the article adds a hopeful note:

Google Books Ngram Viewer, which includes novels, nonfiction, and even scientific literature, shows that semicolon use in English rose by 388% between 1800 and 2006, before falling by 45% over the next 11 years. In 2017, however, it started a gradual recovery, with a 27% rise by 2022.

The Conversation ran a piece that same month, looking at the study reported in The Guardian, with the headline Semicolons are becoming increasingly rare; their disappearance should be resisted. It notes the report from Google can be seen in another, less optimistic way:

Yet when you put the punctuation mark itself into the database, rather than the word “semicolon”, you get a quite different result – one that looks very much like a steady decline.

At the end of her delightful essay supporting the use of the semicolon, the author, Kim Honey, adds a sentiment to which I heartily agree:

We cannot do without the semicolon. The Apostrophe Protection Society is going along very strongly. I would be more than happy to join a Semicolon Supporting Society.

Newser reports “grammar expert” and author of The Perfect English Grammar Workbook, Lisa McLendon, saying, “The semicolon has become a symbol of overthinking. Many people just skip it entirely.” She adds, “There’s still a place for the semicolon; it just needs better PR.” Note the use of the semicolon in that statement.

Even the Smithsonian Magazine weighed in on the issue, with a piece titled, Could the Semicolon Die Out? Recent Analysis Finds a Decline in Its Usage in British Literature and Confusion Among U.K. Students. It quotes Sofia Zambelli, a linguistic and cultural expert at Babbel, who said the semicolon “presents a challenge for many English learners.”

“Whilst searching for best use cases to illustrate the practicality and beauty of the semicolon, we found many historical texts but fewer contemporary examples,” she adds. “Our findings reveal that the semicolon is an ‘endangered’ punctuation mark, abandoned by many British writers who might have been expected to showcase its value and often misunderstood by younger generations.”

The Independent carried its own, more in-depth story by Helen Coffey, the paper’s Senior Lifestyle Features Writer, on the recent survey, titled, Our best punctuation mark is dying out; people need to learn how to use it. It adds the subhead, “The poor, misunderstood semicolon is under threat. Helen Coffey laments its decline and makes the case for re-educating ourselves on its usefulness as the chicest grammatical tool.” She opens the piece:

Forget black rhinos and the Amazon rainforest: there’s something arguably just as precious joining the endangered species list, only this time, it’s a grammatical rather than biological extinction event on the horizon. I’m talking about the poor, misunderstood semicolon.
Yes, that most elegant of punctuation marks – sitting elusively somewhere between an en-dash and a colon – is officially under threat.

She first chides the British school system for the decline:

I will, however, firmly point the finger at an English school syllabus that, for a long time, framed teaching children about the founding rules and principles of their native language as a fun, optional extra.

But then she adds what, in my view, is the core problem in the decline: the accelerated rise of technology, the mobile phone in particular. It’s worth quoting at length:

Its decline surely has even more to do with the rise of the smartphone and, subsequently, emojis. Back in the first wave of mobiles and texting, messages were short and to the point – at 10p a go, you better believe we were fastidious when it came to maximising word count – which resulted in a staccato, telegram-like style of communication. No one had enough space to be joining clauses together, for goodness’ sake, and yet there was still an unexpected place for the semicolon to thrive in this brave new world.
Where character counts were constrained, emoticons helped to convey meaning. Punctuation marks could be combined to create rudimentary expressions, such as a colon and a closing parenthesis to indicate a smiley face (“no worries!!!”) or a colon and an “o” to represent a surprised face (“definitely some worries!!!”). Swap in a semicolon, and you had yourself a winky face, a crucial component of Noughties flirting via text. It may not have been the function originally envisaged by Italian scholar and printer Aldus Pius Manutius the Elder – whose work contains the first recorded use of a semicolon in 1494 – but at least our girl seemed to have got her mojo back.
The development of emojis put paid to that. Actual faces conveying a much broader spectrum of emotional states swept in and made their forerunners obsolete. At the same time, they seemed to replace punctuation in messages altogether. Though character counts no longer mattered in a world of unlimited texts and free-to-use WhatsApps, even full stops became passé. Why use a boring dot to end a sentence when you could shrug, scream, or roll your eyes?

She continues with the threat posed by the use of AI to generate content (another topic and growing threat I will come back to in a later post):

…almost one in five (18.5 per cent) of 13- to 18-year-olds are already using generative AI to write stories, according to research by the National Literacy Trust. AI regurgitates ideas and style based on the material it’s been fed – so if writing by humans has fewer semicolons, it stands to reason that writing by AI will follow suit. It feels like a vicious cycle: people will read them less and therefore use them less, and so on and so on, until the semicolon inevitably becomes as rare a sighting in the wild as the Sumatran orangutan.

Coffey ends with an upbeat plea (emphasis added):

…why would you want to replace such a chic little grammatical tool, one that allows us to seamlessly connect ideas without having to forcibly break them up or slow down the pace of a paragraph? When used thoughtfully, sparingly, it lends a timeless touch of class to any piece of prose. The semicolon’s appeal lies in its very lack of necessity; some of the most beautiful things in life aren’t, strictly speaking, “necessary”.
Here’s a thought: how about we embrace and relearn how to use this beguiling, grammatical gift, rather than wasting precious characters needlessly trying to write it out of existence. Period.

And, were I not an atheist, I would say ‘amen’ to that.

Notes:

* There was an early punctuation mark that looked like the semicolon called the punctus versus that developed from an ancient system of punctuation developed by Aristophanes in the 3rd century BCE, abandoned by the Romans, then revived by Christian writers in the 7th century CE. As the BBC tells us:

…towards the end of the 8th Century, in the nascent country of Germany, the famed king Charlemagne ordered a monk named Alcuin to devise a unified alphabet of letters that could be read by all his far-flung subjects, thus creating what we now know as lowercase letters. Writing had come of age, and punctuation was an indispensable part of it.

Cutting a dash

With Aristophanes’ little dots now commonplace, writers began to expand on them. Some borrowed from musical notation, inspired by Gregorian chants to create new marks like the punctus versus (a medieval ringer for the semicolon used to terminate a sentence) and the punctus elevatus (an upside-down ‘;’ that evolved into the modern colon) that suggested changes in tone as well as grammatical meaning. Another new mark, an ancestor of the question mark called the punctus interrogativus, was used to punctuate questions and to convey a rising inflection at the same time (The related exclamation mark came later, during the 15th Century.)

** CMOS’s online Shop Talk includes a fascinating compendium of semicolon use in 19th-century literature, when the punctuation was more popular among writers:

• Middlemarch, by George Eliot (Mary Ann Evans), was first published in the early 1870s. Its text includes 1,876 semicolons across 318,332 words.
• Charles Dickens’s Bleak House, published in the early 1850s, has 1,385 semicolons sprinkled across 355,368 words.
• Herman Melville had those two books beat by a nautical mile. Moby-Dick; or, The Whale, published in separate editions in England and the United States in 1851, features 4,169 semicolons, not counting the one in the original American version of the title.
• Mark Twain’s Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (mid-1880s) has almost 6 semicolons per page; and, coincidentally, so does Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women (late 1860s). The hybrid mark was clearly popular.

*** Hensher added in the interview (emphasis added),

Whatever the French may fear, it is hard to imagine the semi-colon disappearing from expressive writing. Without it, prose will be monotonously punchy or too garrulous; will stop and start like a circus engine; will deprive itself of the lovely musical possibilities of suspension and floating; will lose a crucial flavour of the tentative and the cogitative. Perhaps we don’t live in a tentative world any more; but, for those of us who like to acknowledge a thoughtful pause in a sentence, punctuation will always matter.

However, the article included the counterpoint from Dr. Bethan Marshall, “a senior lecturer in English Education at King’s College London,” who argued that correct punctuation doesn’t matter much (and I hope she was being facetious):

I know you have to put commas around clauses and that a colon goes at the beginning of a list but I get bored putting marks everywhere I think they should go. My word processor screams green every time it thinks I need a comma but sometimes it’s wrong and at others I think – why bother. And – apologies to the elite of French writers battling to save its perilous existence – don’t even get me started on the semi-colon. (Although if it allows us to breathe a little more easily mid-sentence then why shouldn’t it?) It’s easy to get hung up on the niceties and scorn at errors in a letter, but punctuation changes. It’s the meaning that matters. Right?

There was also a BBC radio show called 6 Minute English, with one of its programs called, Does punctuation matter? You can read the transcript or listen to the discussion. Alice, one of the commentators, says, “I am a stickler when people don’t follow the rules of punctuation because this makes written text ambiguous or difficult to understand.” Which is, in large part, the whole point of punctuation.

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