To Fret or not to Fret

There has long been a debate in the guitar world concerning the zero‑fret instrument. Some players swear by it, while others hold it in disdain. Proponents on both sides offer confident arguments—some thoughtful, some dogmatic—in support of their preferred approach. I’ve spent a good amount of time thinking about the zero fret myself: why it should exist, why it shouldn’t, and why the arguments on both sides seem so convincing at first glance. Eventually, I reached the point where a deeper dive into the pros and cons felt necessary.

Let’s face it: the arguments sound compelling from both sides of the aisle. They’re often delivered with conviction, certainty, and an unshakeable belief in the “truth” of the position being defended. But are the arguments for and against actually valid? Does one approach offer inherent advantages over the other? And if the zero fret does introduce certain problems, are those problems unavoidable—or can they be mitigated, or even eliminated entirely? A fair conclusion requires that the claims be examined carefully, contradictory evidence weighed honestly, and a genuinely unbiased assessment made.

So, what are the arguments against the zero‑fret instrument? They generally boil down to just a handful of points. The most common claim is that zero frets are found only on cheap import guitars, used as a shortcut for easier production. I’ve also heard the argument that replacing the nut on a zero‑fret guitar is difficult—more on that in a moment. Others say the design tends to introduce string buzz, or that the zero fret wears out quickly. And of course, there’s the classic objection: “It just isn’t traditional.” But are these criticisms valid?

When I consider the argument that zero frets are typically found on cheap guitars, I’ll admit that some low‑cost imports did use them, likely to avoid the time‑consuming process of properly filing a nut. However, it’s worth noting that many high‑quality instruments have used zero frets as well. In fact, in 1959, Chet Atkins—whose name nearly every guitarist recognizes—asked Gretsch to include a zero fret on his Country Gentleman model, and that is certainly not a cheap guitar. Several boutique builders have used them on very high‑end instruments too.

As for fret buzz caused by wear on the zero fret, there is some validity to that concern. I’ve seen zero frets with grooves where the strings pass over them, but this is almost always on nickel‑silver frets, which wear readily anyway. One of the early guitars I built for myself had nickel frets. I played it every day, and before long it developed buzz in several spots due to fret wear. Some people attribute all fret wear to string bending, but I don’t believe that explains every divot—especially since wear on nickel zero frets appears across all six strings. There isn’t much bending happening on the 4th, 5th, and 6th strings. Wear can be an issue, yes—but not if stainless steel frets are used. I played a guitar with stainless frets just as much as the nickel‑fretted one, and I saw absolutely zero wear. With the proper choice of fret wire, wear simply isn’t a concern.

Now, what about the argument that the nut is harder to change on a zero‑fret guitar? I admit I scratched my head at that one. The nut on a zero‑fret instrument is merely a guide for the strings. It isn’t critical, as long as the slots sit below the top of the zero‑fret crown. In fact, it’s easier to replace than a standard nut. If the person making the argument was referring to the zero fret itself, well, that shouldn’t be any more difficult than replacing any other fret: remove the worn fret, clean the slot, install the new one, level it, crown it, and you’re done.

The only argument that carries significant weight is that the zero fret isn’t traditional. And in the minds of most guitar players and builders today, that’s true. I can respect tradition, but I also recognize that tradition isn’t the end‑all, be‑all of any subject. And when it comes to guitars, a bit of historical digging reveals that many early lutes—ancestors of the modern guitar—used a zero fret as well.

There are also strong arguments in favor of the zero fret. One of the most common is that it provides a consistent tone from open strings to fretted notes. Another is that the string action is determined by a fret rather than a nut, which follows the same principle that makes a capo so effective. I once heard Tommy Emmanuel say he loves using a capo because the action goes from “okay” to “perfect.” Filing a nut takes precision, and even a couple of missing file strokes can leave one string slightly higher than the others. That small variance alone can noticeably affect the action.

Zero frets can also offer advantages in intonation. The crown of a properly executed fret is centered and level with the rest, meaning the starting point of each string is consistent across the entire course. That consistency in string height also means you don’t have to over‑press one string more than another to fret the next note, which helps prevent pulling notes sharp.

Another benefit is flexibility with string gauges. On a traditional nut, switching gauges often requires reworking the slots, which can introduce new inconsistencies in string height. With a zero fret, the nut slots are intentionally cut looser, acting more as guides than termination points. This makes changing string gauges simple and predictable. Because the nut slots aren’t gripping the strings as tightly, tuning becomes easier as well. I can’t count the number of times I’ve brought a string up to pitch only to have it suddenly jump several cents because it was binding in a tight nut slot. A zero fret eliminates much of that frustration.

Zero‑fret guitars make a lot of sense. That said, many players still dislike them, and I suspect the reason is mostly aesthetic. It reminds me of something another luthier told me early in my journey: people tend to hear more with their eyes than with their ears. After weighing the arguments on both sides, I’ve come to a simple realization: the zero fret is neither a gimmick nor a shortcut. It’s a tool—one with real advantages, a few considerations, and a long history that predates many of the traditions we now take for granted. Some players will always prefer the familiar look of a traditional nut, and I respect that. Others may appreciate the consistency, intonation benefits, and ease of setup that a zero fret provides.

For that reason, I’ve chosen not to take a dogmatic stance. Instead, I’ll offer both options on every model I build. Let the player decide what feels right in their hands and sounds right to their ears. My job is to build the best instrument I can, using the best materials I can, and stainless‑steel frets ensure that wear will never be a concern—zero fret or not.

In the end, the question isn’t whether a guitar should have a zero fret. The real question is whether the guitar inspires the player. If it does, then the choice has already been made.