TIME’s article about Israel’s Use of AI in Gaza is heavy on quotes. The piece relies on experts to explain Israel’s mounting reliance on AI to locate and suggest targets, and the humanitarian implication of this trend. While the article lacks a central character, expert opinions coalesce to form a daunting picture of warfare’s future. The author writes that, according to experts, drones “are not yet fully autonomous,” suggesting that soon, if international law doesn’t implement guardrails, drones may target and kill with no human in the loop.
Though Serhan relies more on expert opinion than narrative detail, she manages to connect to readers through a deft balance of familiarity and distance. From the start, she implores readers to recall images they’ve seen (“AI warfare may conjure up images of killer robots and autonomous drones”), creating a target of contradiction for what’s to follow (“a different reality is unfolding in the Gaza strip”). Not only does this set-up allow readers to feel grounded in their imaginations, but it also creates suspense. Serhan primes readers to anticipate surprise. In this piece, what McPhee defines as “frame of reference” is the summation of images and news items covering the war in Gaza, and the role of drones in this conflict, that the reader has consumed.
In both Robert Worth’s feature about Aleppo after the rebels’ siege of the city and Dan Barry’s piece on Song Yang, setting is a central frame of reference. Both writers contribute their own observations of place to a broader story which, in each case, is largely about a set of characters’ evolving relationship with that setting, the passage of time, and death.
Barry and Singer’s piece is, no doubt, immersive. I was moved by the story behind it: Barry read a headline, it made him mad, so he decided to learn more. The story he and Singer follow is an investigation into the dead woman’s life, circumstances, neighborhood, and the women who continue to toil under the exploitative conditions she underwent.
This story is most successful when its frame of reference is consistent. About halfway through the narrative, Barry zeroes in on 40th road. Readers learn more about the aftermath of Song Yang’s death. Her mother’s grief and brother’s conspiracies are central plot lines. This focus–on the family’s and neighborhood’s reaction to Song Yang’s death in Flushing–recreated a textured world, making Song Yang’s absence all the more apparent.
When the narrative jumped around, in time and setting, I lost interest. Song Yang is nowhere near as multidimensional a character in the story as her brother. The ongoing action of her brother’s investigation into her death draws the reader in. And the reporter benefits from observing him in action. While the history of Song Yang is compelling, it lacks depth in writing. Further, anecdotes from her childhood are interwoven with details about her life in Flushing, and I found these transitions disorienting. If anything, the successes and shortcomings of this piece underscored the reliability of chronology as an immersive tool.
