In Defense of the Semicolon

Let me declare an interest at the outset: I love the semicolon. I am aware that this is not a fashionable position. In the course of my career I have been told by editors, colleagues and at least one exasperated nephew that the semicolon is pretentious, old-fashioned and, worst of all, unnecessary. Kurt Vonnegut famously advised young writers not to use it at all. I have read that advice many times; I have never once been persuaded by it.

The case against the semicolon usually rests on two claims. The first is that nobody knows how to use it. The second is that, even when it is used correctly, a period or a comma would do the job just as well. Both claims, I would argue, are wrong, and the second is wrong in a particularly interesting way.

Consider the following pair of sentences. "She had prepared for the interview for weeks. She did not get the job." Now compare: "She had prepared for the interview for weeks; she did not get the job." The words are identical. What changes is the relationship between them. The period keeps the two facts at arm's length, as though they had merely happened to occur in the same week. The semicolon holds them together and invites the reader to feel the connection, and the unfairness, without the writer having to spell it out.

That, to my mind, is the semicolon's great virtue. It is stronger than a comma and gentler than a period. It allows a writer to say that two ideas are separate enough to stand alone but close enough to belong together. A comma cannot do this; joining two complete sentences with a comma produces what teachers call a comma splice, which is precisely the error the semicolon exists to prevent.

It also has a humbler, more practical job, which even its critics tend to accept. In a list whose items already contain commas, semicolons keep order. "The panel included Ana Ruiz, a historian; Tom Clarke, an engineer; and Sofia Lane, a novelist" is clear. Replace the semicolons with commas and you are left with what appears to be a list of six people, three of whom are mysteriously named after professions.

I will concede, however, that the semicolon is often abused. It is not a fancy comma to be scattered across a page for decoration. It should not introduce a list, which is the colon's job, nor should it separate a main clause from a fragment, as in the unfortunate habit of writing "Although it was raining" followed by a semicolon and the rest of the sentence. Used too often, even correctly, it can make prose feel breathless and overworked.

But the fact that a tool can be misused is hardly an argument for throwing it away. We do not ban knives because some people cut themselves. Readers of Spanish will know that the «punto y coma» has an equally respectable history, and, if anything, a rather more secure place in good prose. English, it seems to me, should be no less ambitious.

So here is my modest proposal. Learn the two rules. Use the mark sparingly; use it deliberately. And the next time someone tells you that semicolons are pointless, pause for a moment before you reply; then, with a calm and confident hand, prove them wrong.