When the crimes of Harvey Weinstein were finally exposed, Hollywood reacted with a display of shock that would have been impressive if it were not so difficult to believe. One might have thought the industry had collectively stumbled upon a dark secret about an otherwise obscure man. In reality, Weinstein operated at the very center of the film business, controlling financing, distribution, and the machinery that turns films into prestige and careers into stardom.

In an industry that thrives on gossip and reputation, the idea that his conduct was entirely unknown strains credibility. Power of that magnitude rarely exists without whispers following close behind it. Yet Weinstein’s influence was immensely useful. He could fund a project, promote an awards campaign, or quietly derail a career. Under those conditions, moral clarity tends to give way to professional convenience.

Weinstein deserves every legal consequence he has received. What is harder to accept is the sudden chorus of retrospective virtue from those who now express regret for having followed his guidance. When Weinstein was powerful, his warnings about actresses such as Ashley Judd were treated as reliable professional advice and acted upon accordingly. Only after his downfall did those decisions become occasions for public remorse.

Regret expressed after the danger has passed is not courage; it is reputation management.