Why is there an abundance of cheap forgiveness and pardon in Japanese anime?
Do you remember that powerful line from "My Brother is Shunliu"? "They killed my whole family, why can I go home just because of a word of surrender?" This line is shocking precisely because it tears apart a layer of reconciliation narrative that we take for granted, almost hypocritical, pointing directly to something deeper in the spiritual world of the Chinese people. It is not hatred, but justice.
The two most classic sayings about revenge in Confucian tradition have long been written into our cultural genes:
- "Can the enmity of nine generations still be avenged? Can the enmity of ten generations still be avenged?" This comes from the "Spring and Autumn Annals," talking about how Ji Hou slandered Duke Ai of Qi, and even after nine generations, the national enmity must still be avenged.
- "Repay hatred with virtue, how to repay virtue? Repay hatred with straightforwardness, repay virtue with virtue." Confucius made it clear: indiscriminate forgiveness is actually a betrayal of goodness.
This does not encourage bloodshed, but emphasizes a moral symmetry—evil must pay a price, and goodwill is worth reciprocating. Forgiveness can happen, but it is never cheap.
However, in Japanese anime, we often see a different scene: the bad guys commit numerous atrocities, destroy cities and nations, yet at the last moment, they shed tears, repent, and kneel to beg for mercy. Thus, the protagonist sheaths their sword, and the viewers are moved to tears. The comments flood in: "He is just a pitiful person." Sin and the sinner are cleverly separated—"Do not hate the person, hate the sin." "No matter the reason, killing is evil, even if the other party is a murderer."
Behind this narrative lies a history that has not been truly settled, along with a deep-seated tension within a nation. Most Japanese people are well aware of the history of their past invasions of China; they know what they have done and subconsciously fear a certain ethical possibility of retribution. This is also a defense mechanism that has been activated in the cultural unconscious—through stories that repeatedly rehearse the plot of "as long as you apologize, you will be forgiven," they attempt to dissolve the anxiety of guilt in reality through fiction. "Bowing, kneeling, shedding tears," these three actions have almost become the standard ritual of Japanese atonement. Once completed, the narrative quickly shifts to reconciliation and redemption, as if evil can truly be washed away by tears and diluted by time.
But do all Japanese creators agree with this set of beliefs? Not at all. Two individuals have raised objections with their brushes. One is Akira Toriyama. Frieza and Son Goku have a particularly brilliant dialogue: Frieza says, "Haven't you Saiyans ever killed innocents?" Son Goku replies, "That's why the Saiyans were also exterminated." Frieza laughs, "Exterminating the Saiyans is what I did." Son Goku calmly responds, "Now it's my turn to exterminate you." There is no forgiveness, no reconciliation, only cause and effect. Through Goku's words, a cold yet fair cosmic law is articulated: how you treat others is how others will treat you. The enmity of a destroyed race must be repaid by the destruction of that race. If you want to atone, you can pay with your life.
The other is Fujimoto Tatsuki. In "Fire Punch" and "Chainsaw Man," he repeatedly questions: if a villain truly repents, will the harm they caused disappear? Do victims lose their right to revenge? The answer is that it will not disappear, and it does. "Your helplessness is real, your awakening and regret are real, your transformation into a good person is real—but the murderous intent that burns like a raging fire is also real. It consumes all the aforementioned realities." In Fujimoto Tatsuki's world, forgiveness is never guaranteed, and repentance is not a ticket for atonement; blood debts can ultimately only be repaid with blood.
Reject that kind of lightweight ethics and lazy forgiveness; their narratives do not seek liberation but rather question the cost. Perhaps this is the weight that stories should carry. Forgiveness can be a personal choice, but it should never become moral coercion. Forgiveness can be great, but it should never be cheap. When we once again see the villain kneeling and the protagonist softening in front of the screen, perhaps we should ask: is this forgiveness out of mercy, or out of narrative laziness? Is this reconciliation a moral elevation, or a carefully designed forgetfulness? "Repay virtue with virtue, repay hatred with straightforwardness," these eight characters have never been barbaric, but rather the deepest respect of civilization for principles.
Reprinted from: "Why is there an abundance of cheap forgiveness and pardon in Japanese anime?" https://www.bilibili.com/video/BV1bsp7zzEPx/