I once went to a screening of the movie Japanese Devils. In the talk afterward, a guy shared how when he was a kid in the immediate postwar period, random men at local summer festivals would sometimes bond by reminiscing about all the women they raped back in China—and these conversations were happening in public, in front of their wives. There was no shred of remorse. It had clearly affected the man who told the story, and it’s stuck with me as well.