By Natasha Noam Gol
In an era where every scroll reveals a new crisis, atrocity, or social injustice, it’s easy to feel like we’re wading through an endless tide of pain. It’s not that today’s world has more injustice than in the past (unfortunately, history shows it’s always been around). The difference is that now, with a swipe or a click, we’re intimately connected to suffering on a massive scale, served up with hashtags and harrowing visuals. And it leaves many of us feeling like tiny creatures in a forest fire, trying to extinguish flames with a single drop of water.
The hummingbird tale, which originated in Peru, is a beautiful analogy for this- A huge fire breaks out in a forest, and all the animals, feeling scared and helpless, stand by watching as the flames consume their home. Among them is a small hummingbird who decides to take action. It flies to a nearby stream, picks up a drop of water in its tiny beak, and returns to the fire to release the drop over the flames. The hummingbird keeps going back and forth, determined to do its part. The larger animals—like elephants with trunks that could carry much more water—look on and criticize the hummingbird, telling it that its efforts are futile. But the hummingbird simply replies, “I am doing the best I can.”
In a forest ablaze, with all the animals fleeing, a single hummingbird flies to the river, dips its beak, and returns to release a drop of water over the flames. Again and again, it repeats this seemingly futile action, despite the other animals’ skepticism. “I’m doing the best I can,” the hummingbird replies when they jeer. It’s a simple story but one that resonates, especially now. In a world where nihilism — the belief that nothing really matters — can creep into our lives disguised as “realism,” the hummingbird’s message is a defiant, almost stubborn belief in doing something, even if that something feels minuscule.
Yet, while we admire the hummingbird’s grit, it’s hard to ignore that activism today has become more complex than ever, plagued by comparisons, virtue signalling, and the unspoken pressure to be everywhere, doing everything, all the time. It’s exhausting and, frankly, a little absurd.
The Double-Edged Sword of Connectivity
The problem is that we’re now constantly bombarded by suffering from every corner of the globe. Every injustice, every tragedy, every heartbreak is suddenly within our view. Social media, for all its benefits, has created an environment where pain is magnified and broadcasted in real-time. And while it’s good to stay informed, the sheer volume of distressing information can lead to two responses: feeling overwhelmed or, conversely, numb.
It’s here that the hummingbird’s approach stands out. Instead of letting the enormity of the fire (or crisis) freeze it into inaction, it chooses to do something, however small. In contrast, many of us are caught in the cycle of hyper-awareness. This bombardment of injustice has turned into a kind of pity contest, a race to outdo each other in the act of “caring.” Because it’s not enough to care; we’re expected to show that we care — visually, loudly, and with relentless fervor.
When Activism Becomes a Performance
In Judaism, the concept of “giving in secret,” known as matan b’seter, emphasizes the importance of charitable giving without seeking recognition, honoring the dignity of the recipient and keeping the giver’s intentions pure. This idea is mirrored in Christianity, as Matthew 6:3 advises to “not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing” when giving to others, as well as in Islam, which encourages discreet charity (sadaqah) to maintain humility and protect the recipient’s pride. Across these faiths, giving quietly is valued as a way to nurture compassion while minimizing ego.
Activism today, particularly on social media, has adopted a visual, competitive edge. It’s no longer simply about making a difference but about looking like you’re making a difference. The number of posts, the quality of hashtags, the artistry of infographics — it all plays into a game of who cares most. This might seem harmless, or even a bit humorous, but it can lead to toxic outcomes: people shaming others for not doing “enough,” for not being vocal or visible, for choosing silence in moments of burnout.
And here’s the kicker: being an activist is, in many ways, a privilege. Yes, privilege. It’s easy to forget this in a world where activism is increasingly portrayed as the bare minimum, a duty. But the reality is that not everyone has the mental, emotional, or financial bandwidth to pour endless energy into causes — not because they don’t care, but because life itself can be demanding. For someone who might be cast out from their society or even family, someone who struggles mentally or physically, or someone whose job is on the line, activism isn’t always an accessible outlet. And that’s okay.
But in today’s climate, acknowledging this reality is risky. Social media’s unspoken rule is that everyone must be all-in, all the time, or risk being labeled apathetic or privileged. Ironically, in trying to be all-encompassing, activism has become somewhat exclusionary, demanding constant visibility, time, and energy from people who may not have those resources to spare.
Nihilism: The Tempting Alternative
With so many crises, it’s easy to feel paralyzed and think, Does any of this even matter? This is where nihilism rears its head. It offers the “comfort” of apathy, the twisted logic that if nothing matters, then why try at all? It’s like standing in front of the raging fire and shrugging, thinking, “Well, what difference can I make?”
But let’s be honest — nihilism is a luxury we can’t afford. Adopting a “nothing matters” approach is a privileged stance, too. It offers the illusion of peace, a retreat from the relentless demands of empathy. But it also robs us of hope, and worse, of agency. The hummingbird, however tiny, doesn’t choose apathy or existential despair. It chooses action — a small, almost laughable action — but action nonetheless.
Small Acts Are Not Futile
The story of the hummingbird reminds us that small acts, while seemingly insignificant, contribute to a larger movement. It challenges the idea that we have to fix everything at once to make a difference. Every small action, every “drop of water,” is part of a ripple effect that may not extinguish the fire but still makes an impact.
Imagine if everyone approached injustice with the humility of the hummingbird — acknowledging the enormity of the problem but refusing to be deterred by it. This doesn’t mean we should ignore the systemic and structural issues that require large-scale solutions. It simply means recognizing that not every act of activism has to be grand or global. Sometimes, it’s enough to just do what you can, with what you have, where you are.
So, Where Do We Go from Here?
It’s time to reclaim activism from the noise, to recognize that genuine activism isn’t about winning a “caring” contest. It’s about creating space for meaningful action without shaming people for their limitations. It’s about finding a balance between staying informed and avoiding burnout. And it’s about choosing purposeful acts, no matter how small, without worrying about how they look on a feed.
The reality is that every generation faces its fires. Ours are just more visible, magnified, and often overwhelming. But if the hummingbird teaches us anything, it’s that the antidote to despair is often found in the act of trying, of not letting the flames intimidate us into silence. It’s not our job to fix the world alone, and it’s okay to admit when we’re tired. But neither should we let cynicism or nihilism strip us of the belief that small acts matter.
So, next time you’re feeling crushed under the weight of another headline, remember: you don’t need to save the whole forest, keep your mind and mental health safe. Just focus on bringing your drop, however small it might be, and whenever you find the energy to act, under your own conditions! And who knows? In the collective effort, perhaps we can shift from merely watching the fire to, one drop at a time, finding a way to help douse the flames.
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