Why it’s a big deal, and why it’s not
The Associated Press Stylebook editors finally did it.
The AP Stylebook, which provides guidance to journalists and other communications professionals across the U.S., at long last has made the switch from two-word “health care” to one-word “healthcare.” The change was announced April 24, 2026, at the annual ACES: The Society for Editing conference.
I was in the room when AP made the proclamation, so I got to hear the gasps and cheers from my fellow copy editors. Many, but not all of us, celebrated.
Personally, I was thrilled. For years, I’ve been asking the AP Stylebook editors — in person and on social media, wherever I could get their ear — when they would lose that extra space. They’d always say they get that question a lot but that it was a complicated issue. After all, they’d point out, if they were to close up “health care,” then they’d have to close up “child care” and “day care” too.
“Yes!” I’d reply. “Please do! Those are three improvements I can get behind.”
And you know what? That’s exactly what they did. Shortly after announcing the “health care” to “healthcare” switch, the AP Stylebook editors said they’re endorsing “childcare” and “daycare.” They’re thinking about doing “skincare” and “haircare” next.
Since these changes took effect, I’ve heard some questions, comments, and complaints, such as:
“Who cares? What’s the big deal?”
“I’ve always spelled ‘healthcare’ as one word.”
“Why do they have to change things?”
“This hurts my eyes.”
For anyone interested, I shall attempt to address these.
Why is this a big deal?
For a few decades, the one-word spelling of “healthcare” has been rising in published books, while the two-word spelling has been dipping. The AP Stylebook, always conservative with its updates, continued recommending the more old-school “health care.” This was despite the fact that much of its other guidance exists to save space, the most well-known example being its recommendation to omit the serial comma in simple lists.
With each passing year, many of us scratched our heads and made our voices heard. When the “healthcare” announcement finally came, we were delighted to see AP had listened to our feedback and would be catching up with modern times. It felt like a personal victory, and it was exciting to witness a trusted language authority officially acknowledge this tiny slice of language evolution.
Why is this not a big deal?
If you’re not required to follow AP style as part of your job, then you’re free to ignore AP’s guidance. In fact, if you are required to follow AP style as part of your job, then you’re free to ignore AP’s guidance. Maybe you already pick and choose which AP style points you follow and have been spelling “healthcare” as one word for as long as you can remember.
In my experience, the AP Stylebook editors have always been quick to point out that their recommendations are just that: recommendations, not commandments. All publications I know of deviate from AP style as their editors see fit. For example, AP recommends against using honorifics like “Mr.” and “Ms.,” but The New York Times does so anyway. AP recommends using em dashes for breaks in thought, but my local newspaper often uses the shorter en dash instead because their editors apparently don’t know the difference.
At the end of the day, do whatever you want.
Why does AP style change?
It’s the AP Stylebook’s job to recommend spellings and treatments of words that are clear to readers, and that means changing its guidance when readers change their expectations. This has happened plenty of times before. In 2020, lowercase “black” became capitalized “Black.” In 2016, capitalized “Internet” became lowercase “internet.” In 2014, “over” was fully accepted to mean “more than,” a change that gets some people’s blood boiling to this day.
But the AP Stylebook doesn’t really change, does it? The English language changes. The AP Stylebook, like dictionaries, is regularly updated to show those changes. We can’t expect the AP Stylebook to remain static while English evolves just so we can avoid learning new rules.
What if I hate this change?
I don’t know what to tell ya. In the 1850s, most people referred to America’s pastime as “base ball” (“base-ball” when used as a modifier). By the 1890s, “baseball” had become the dominant form. In the 1920s, a person between the ages of 13 and 19 was called a “teen ager,” which later became “teen-ager” and then “teenager.” In the 1990s, we visited Web sites, and now we visit websites (a change AP acknowledged in 2010).
You’re free to write “base ball” and “teen ager” and “Web site,” but you should know it will look funny to some readers. Likewise, “health care” will look funnier with each passing year as fewer people use it.
If these changes upset you, that’s a valid reaction, but into every life a little rain must fall. To stop further changes, you’ll have to convince hundreds of millions of English speakers to stop exercising their free will to slowly modify the language they collectively own.
Is this a slippery slope? Will the AP Stylebook begin closing up all words?
No. Don’t be ridiculous.
Are there more important things to think about and dedicate our energy to?
Of course there are, but some of us are celebrating. Let us have our moment.
