A bit of a story:
There were once two ships, the old sailing kind with tall wide sails and miles of ropes to be manned.
One was manned by a crew that understood the same language, had similar values and in time of distress had a strong cultural core to fall back upon as a kernel of hope. This crew understood each other and even though each was not thrilled to be on a ship they all thought it best if at least most of them were to survive to get back to land. In fine they cared about each other beyond mere utility or personal gain.
The other was manned by one of each kind. Each had his own language and values. They had nothing in common but an agreement to sail for mutual advantage but only so long as the good winds held, mind you. This motley crew had no deep understanding or regard for each other. They viewed each other are merely means to ends to personal selfish ends. In short these could not have cared less about each other if they tried.
Well in time they both ran into hard wind running the Shoehorn of Modernity … the One banded together almost if by instinct, maned the decks and sails and pulled through as a cohesive unit, because when the tide was high and the dark deep they did not cave in and give over the fear; each thought of his DUTIES to the others and this pulled the whole lot through the tough times. They also realized that some routes are best left untraveled by the wise!
The other ship nearly foundered as the Babylonian crew debated and debated about what to do -- in everything from Manchu to Hindu to Zulu! And when they finally did find common ground and resolved to act, they lacked any passion about it; each rationalizing the odds such that all the others were just cogs to be tossed over in the fight; thus each slight worsening of the conditions made them all the more ready to abandon all the others to save only themselves.
And it came to pass that when the water was at its worst this bunch lost their nerve, deserted their posts officers first, each seeking like raped apes to break and run. The wheel and sails left to tide and wind; their ship went down as they scampered about like rats learning too late that out in the deep sea there is no place to run to and no place to hide -- you either pull through or you go under.
Moral of the Story: The Nation is a ship of sorts floating upon the waves of reality. We either do our duties or the Nation goes down. The 'I do what I want' mentality is in effect a national mutiny against the National Survival. It undercuts the discipline, sense of identity, and shared community necessary to survive the tough times. And tough times must surely come again as they have come before time out of mind.