Open, Hyphenated, and Closed – Brickwall Decker

I find the written word fascinating.

One aspect I’ve always found oddly interesting is compound nouns—specifically, whether they should be written open, hyphenated, or closed.

For example:

Kettlebell

Should it be:

Definitely kettlebell.

“Kettle bell” sounds like a bell that belongs to your kettle. “Kettle-bell” could work, but it just doesn’t look right to me.

Kettlebell wins.

And thankfully, the dictionary agrees.

It’s the same with words like:

They’ve become such specific objects that separating the words almost weakens their meaning.

Another example:

Pull-up

Should it be:

I vote for pull-up.

“Pull up” feels too broad. It could mean pulling up a chair, pulling up weeds, pulling up a webpage, or pulling up to a stoplight.

A pull-up, however, is a very specific exercise.

The closed version, “pullup,” isn’t completely unreasonable, but it looks strange to me. Like it belongs in a completely different category of words.

So once again:

Pull-up wins.

The dictionary backs me up on this one, too.

The same goes for:

Now let’s go the other direction.

Consider:

Peanut butter

Should it be:

Only peanut butter looks right.

Even though it’s a specific thing, the open form somehow remains the most readable and natural.

The same applies to:

And that’s where things get interesting.

There doesn’t seem to be a perfectly logical system that explains every compound noun.

Some become closed. Some stay hyphenated. Some remain open forever.

Language seems to decide collectively over time.

My theory?

The best version is usually the one that conveys meaning clearly, is easy to read, and simply looks right on the page.

Not a very scientific conclusion, I know.

But when it comes to compound nouns, sometimes aesthetics matter.

At the end of the day, I think you just have to take them on a word-by-word basis.