How to Find the Right Way to Coexist with AI? Hear What They Have to Say
Recently, the Military Daily published a series of investigative reports on "AI Entering the Barracks," and many readers submitted articles sharing their thoughts. How do we find the right way to coexist with AI? Hear what they have to say——
When the Wave Comes, Why Panic?
■ Cadre of an Army Unit, Zhang Laigui
In an open world, there are no closed barracks.
AI is not like a smartphone—a tangible, physical object that can be clearly issued, managed, and collected. It is more like an invisible, intangible "capability," permeating search boxes and hidden within all manner of applications. The moment officers and soldiers go online, they will encounter it "unexpectedly."
Some say that compared to the increasingly standardized management of smartphone use, AI applications bring new challenges to unit management. This concern is not without reason, yet there is no need for excessive anxiety over it. Reading carefully through the series of investigative reports on "AI Entering the Barracks" recently published in the Military Daily, I believe the key lies in grasping three capabilities that AI cannot replace: judgment (判断力), comprehension (领悟力), and execution (执行力). These are the foundation and resolve that allow us to stand firm when facing the new wave of technology.
AI can instantly generate 100 answers, but it will never tell you which one is "correct." What method suits this particular company, what words can reach the hearts of grassroots officers and soldiers, what decision is most reasonable and sound at this time and place—all of these require human judgment.
Behind judgment lies an understanding of people, a grasp of the situation on the ground, and a feel for proper measure—all of which must be tested through practice. These qualities often come from the day-after-day experience of struggling alongside comrades, from the accumulated lessons of both successes and failures. Keep judgment firmly in hand, and you will not be swept away by the "information flood" of algorithms.
AI can write polished personal reflections and generate logically rigorous speech drafts—seemingly saving effort and trouble—but the process of "working it out yourself" that gets skipped is precisely the most valuable part.
The wisdom that truly belongs to a person is the process of turning vague feelings into clear understanding through thought and reflection. Comprehension is the spark of thought ignited within one's own life experience. That spark cannot be given by anyone, nor taken away by anyone. Guard comprehension, and you will not let your own mind go to waste amid the "convenience" AI brings.
What AI is least able to replace is the reality touched by human hands. AI can simulate training plans, but it cannot sweat for you; AI can analyze equipment principles, but it cannot form muscle memory for you, nor help you make the correct reflexive action at a critical moment. All virtual answers must ultimately be tested against the real world. Whether a mission can be completed, whether a position can be held—it is not enough for the code to run; people must run, crawl, and carry loads, and experience the unexpected situations that fall outside any plan.
Execution is not the mechanical repetition of following procedures by the book, but the transformation of intent into effect, of plans into combat results. This process is soaked out in mud and water, fought out with comrades pulling and pushing each other forward. No screen can give you the strength and trust that grow from within that experience. Carry execution on your shoulders, and you can plant your feet firmly and stand steady before the temptations of the virtual world.
Judgment keeps a person clear-headed; comprehension makes a person profound; execution keeps a person grounded. These three capabilities are nowhere else but in the sweat poured out on the training ground, in the hard thinking done in the study room, in the minute and tedious details of daily duties, and in the sincere heart-to-heart talks and solid actions taken time and again.
When the AI wave arrives, what changes is the crest of the technological tide; what does not change is the soldier's pursuit. Grasp judgment, comprehension, and execution well, and when the wave strikes, your heart will not panic and your feet will be strong.
Slowing Down in the Age of "Instant Reply"
■ Cadre of an Army Unit, Duan Yaqi
What exactly has the wind of AI stirred up inside the barracks?
On April 21, the Military Daily published the article "'I Am Face to Face with You, Yet You Always Ask AI,'" revealing the challenges the AI era brings to the barracks. From a single ideological report to long-term growth plans, young soldiers used to be more willing to seek guidance from their squad leaders; now their first instinct is often to reach for their phones. To understand this change, one cannot focus only on the behavior of using AI itself. As those who lead soldiers, we must ask further: why does a cold algorithm hold more appeal than a "flesh-and-blood" squad leader?
In the report, a new recruit said: "AI never gets tired of me. No matter how many times I ask, it answers patiently; I could criticize it 100 times and it would never lose its temper." This statement undoubtedly offers some answers: AI can reply instantly, can be very warm, and does not pass judgment. Young soldiers crave growth yet fear making mistakes, but some leaders are too impatient—so impatient they forget the soldier is still learning to walk, yet measure him by the standard of running. When a question is asked repeatedly, impatience shows on the face; when a personal reflection is poorly written, it is taken as a sign of poor attitude. Over time, the soldier's heart naturally closes its door.
Yet on the battlefield, if there is no network and no power, AI will be paralyzed—but comrades will not leave. This mutual trust and reliance is not generated by an algorithm; it is "slowly simmered" through day-and-night companionship and shared hardship. These experiences and feelings that AI cannot provide, we call "love."
Therefore, in the face of the AI wave, what those who lead soldiers must do is not to block it, but to guide it. Leaders must make soldiers understand: AI is a tool to help improve capability, not a shortcut to replace thought and emotion. AI can give you answers, but it is not responsible for your growth; AI can chat with you, but it will not accompany you onto the battlefield.
In this age of "instant reply," "slowing down" requires courage, and even more so requires a mutual commitment from both sides.
For those who lead soldiers, "slow" means a little more tolerance and patience. When a soldier asks the same question repeatedly, resist the urge to frown; try to think about why he did not remember. When a soldier's ideas are immature, do not "strike them down with a single blow"; try to find those "sparks" worth affirming. Giving soldiers room to grow also gives leaders room to deepen themselves.
For soldiers, "slow" means allowing squad leaders and key personnel to have a process of thinking. Some questions AI can answer instantly, but the squad leader may need to think it over, may need to consult the commanding officer. Because what he must provide is not a standard answer, but a "customized plan" tailored to the unit's and the individual's actual circumstances.
The appeal of the barracks has never lain in "perfection," but in that rough and real, sweat-and-tears-intertwined shared experience. Those who lead soldiers also grow tired and irritable; there will be questions they cannot answer—but they can honestly tell the soldier: I haven't fully thought through this problem either; let's work it out together. Leading soldiers means using "love" to do what AI cannot do, and the person who will lend a hand at a critical moment is more worthy of trust than an AI that replies instantly.
The AI wave cannot be stopped, nor does it need to be stopped. When leaders are willing to slow down, soldiers can settle down; when leaders are willing to go deep, soldiers can grow more solidly.
Let us bring our young comrades back from the dialogue boxes of AI applications into this burning real world. Here there is scrutiny, and also embrace; there is criticism, and also companionship. And when the time finally comes to step onto the battlefield and face together all the uncertainties, it will not be strings of code in a phone, but the comrades at your side who share life and death.
Guarding the Boundary Between "Chip" and "Heart"
■ Cadre of an Air Force Unit, Zhang Jiaquan
Illustrated by Li Jiang
When the first draft of an education plan is rapidly generated by AI, when the answer to an ideological confusion is first sought from the algorithm on the other side of a screen, when discussion among comrades is replaced by "let AI take a look"—AI is entering the barracks with unstoppable momentum.
There is no denying that AI is a "helper" for grassroots work. Looking up information, organizing ideas, sorting data—tedious administrative tasks handed to AI can quickly produce results and immediately improve efficiency. This empowerment through technology is an inevitable product of the era's development, and we should proactively embrace and make good use of it. But as the "AI Entering the Barracks" series of investigative reports cautions, convenience must not evolve into dependence, and efficiency must never breach the bottom line.
The scenes depicted in "'I Am Face to Face with You, Yet You Always Ask AI'" are not isolated cases at the grassroots level. If one pins hopes on algorithms to provide standard answers to difficulties in study, confusion in thought, and trivialities in daily life, it is easy to turn comrades who are right at hand into "background figures" and experienced veterans into "outsiders."
No matter how intelligent AI is, it is ultimately a product of the "chip" (芯): it can calculate precise data, but cannot calculate genuine comradeship; it can provide standard answers, but cannot provide heartfelt warmth. A squad leader's word of encouragement—"Don't be afraid, I've got you"—can dispel the gloom of a training setback; a comrade's knowing glance can convey the strength of moving forward side by side; a shout of "Follow me!" at a critical moment can summon the courage to overcome every difficulty. The combat effectiveness of the military has never rested solely on the advancement of equipment and technology, but also on the cohesion of soldiers' hearts (兵心), the bonds of emotion, and the inheritance of fighting spirit (血性).
No matter how "attentive" AI may be, it remains in essence a data-computation tool, carrying the hidden risk of sensitive information being retained, leaked, or stolen. A casual question, a careless input, a negligent operation—any of these could become a gap through which secrets are lost, posing risks to unit security. The Military Daily recently also published a commentary, "Facing AI, Never 'Charge in with Eyes Closed,'" which reminds us that using AI cannot be a matter of seeking only convenience while ignoring the bottom line. What can be asked and what must not be raised must be firmly kept in mind and reflected in action.
No matter how "smart" AI may be, its intelligence does not arise from nothing; it originates from the "real-combat thinking" (实战思维) implanted through the continuous "feeding of data." As the core logic of human-machine collaboration clarified in "'The More Effort the Human Brain Puts In, the Smarter AI Can Be'"—humans are the masters of AI, and AI is a tool in service of combat effectiveness. We rely on AI to improve the quality and efficiency of our work and to solve training problems, not to abandon independent thinking and discard fine traditions.
Times change, technology renews, and AI entering the barracks is the general trend—but the intelligence of the "chip" (芯) cannot replace the power of the "heart" (心), and technological convenience cannot breach the boundaries of discipline and emotion. As grassroots officers and soldiers, we must both embrace technology and make good use of AI, while also guarding the boundary between "chip" and "heart." Because the warmth of comradeship, the attitude of observing discipline, and the tenacious pursuit of victory in war—these are our most solid foundation.