Thinking about what I've written over the decades and why I've done it, I offer you this short story.

There is a huge fire in the forest, and all the animals are fleeing except the hummingbird, which is zipping back and forth from a spring and scooping up slivers of water with its tiny beak and dumping them on the flames. The other animals, standing on the edge of the forest, taunt the hummingbird. The panther asks derisively, “What do you think you are doing, foolish little bird ?” and the hummingbird answers, “I'm doing what I can.”

What's to blame - those who started the fire or those who did nothing?