In 2004, when the bubble was being blown goodo, U2 released an album entitled How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb. Where is Bono when you need him? Right now, we need to find out how to dismantle an atomic nation.

The country is primed for implosion of one sort or another. Two factors are now exercising a powerful destructive force on the psychology of Irish society – to the extent that there is such a thing.

One is anger. The place is seething with anger. Everybody is angry at bankers and developers. Public-sector workers are angry with the government. Many in the private sector are angry at the public sector. The growing ranks of the unemployed are processing anger as they come to terms with their current station. Anger at the waste in Fás and throughout the upper echelons of the state is palpable.

Some union heads appear to be revelling in the anger, stoking it up for their own ends, although the suspicion lingers that few of them would like to see the widespread industrial unrest they threaten.

Anger, as Colm McCarthy pointed out, is not a policy, but right now it is the only uniting force in society. And while everybody is angry, the object of their ire differs and is therefore unlikely to be harnessed as a positive influence.

The second factor contributing to the toxic environment is a lack of any social solidarity. History is littered with examples of the application of solidarity in times of crises, the Blitz mentality of the British being the most obvious one. Yet right now, everybody is rowing their own boats any which way through treacherous currents.

The tone was set at the outset of the crisis in the autumn of 2007. As the dole queues mounted, then Taoiseach Bertie Ahern declared he was entitled to a recommended €38,000 pay increase. Only widespread public outcry over the course of a month forced him to begrudgingly forgo it. The message was clear. Whatever your station, however relatively pampered you are, hold what you have and to blazes with the begrudgers.

There has been precious little leadership in effecting any solidarity since. In politics, Fianna Fáil backbenchers' primary crib at a parliamentary party meeting in the summer was the cuts to their padded allowances and pay. Only a fraction of former ministers still active in public life have surrendered their ministerial pensions.

Last week it was revealed that just half of the state's 144 judges have paid a voluntary pension levy. Judges' salaries range from €147,000 to €295,000. This is what passes for leadership in the country today.

The tunnel vision of narrow self-interest permeates all levels. Teachers' union the ASTI has told its members not to conduct parent-teacher meetings outside of school hours, despite being specifically paid to do so. They are angry at cuts in education and the pension levy and somebody has to pay. They appear to have no regard for the stress this arrangement will cause parents who are already feeling insecure in employment.

Anecdotally, some employers are using the crisis to exploit workers. Siptu has launched a 3.5% pay claim for health workers at a time of rising unemployment and falling wages. There is no prospect of a rise being secured, but throwing those kind of shapes demonstrates a contempt for the morass the country is in, irrespective of who is responsible for it.

Through it all, while each section extends its paw, it voices the rhetoric of the importance of protecting the most vulnerable. On Wednesday, many of the most vulnerable were among the 8,000 people who felt compelled to march in protest at proposed cuts in the community sector. In a society where solidarity is redundant, the most vulnerable must protect themselves because nobody else will.

There are mitigating factors for the dearth of solidarity. A culture of entitlement rather than responsibility grew up over a decade of the lunatic taxation policies espoused by the Progressive Democrats, and Fianna Fáil's use of the exchequer to buy elections. Leadership is still not forthcoming in all sectors. And impunity appears to be the order of the day for those who landed us in the mire. These issues are now viewed as excuses to bang the drum of self-interest rather than obstacles to be overcome. So everybody reverts to type. The government focuses on a cuts agenda. The opposition concentrates on the trail of power, while most employers and union bosses retreat into the comfort zone of self-interest.

Sane voices are drowned out. Civil and religious figures such as Mary Robinson and Archbishop Diarmuid Martin are largely ignored. Ictu boss David Begg is a moderate figure who has some interesting proposals about an alternative way forward, but his contribution is viewed cynically as being driven primarily by self-interest.

So it goes with the Sean-Bhean Bhocht circa 2009. For all the alleged progress of the last couple of decades, there is something basic missing in a society that can't pull together in a time of crisis.

One of the better songs on that U2 album was a paean written by Bono for his terminally ill father. 'Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own' is a very personal song, but it could easily be applied to wider society as we struggle to resuscitate a country on its knees.

mclifford@tribune.ie