George Orwell wrote in one of his essays that the fundamental British story or myth was that of "Jack the Giant-killer": the individual hero who triumphs over great odds through his courage, determination and ingenuity. However, he detected signs that this scenario was in danger of being replaced by something quite different; one in which the hero triumphs because he is a member of an all-powerful organisation against which all enemies are helpless. Orwell thought such a story could best be called "Jack the Dwarf-killer"
There are good reasons for Britain finding "Jack the Giant-killer" appealing as a national myth. For most of the past 400 years or more, Britain faced enemies who were alarmingly close and dangerous-looking: first Spain in the 16th & 17th centuries, then France until the mid-19th century and Germany in the first half of the 20th; we might add to this the Soviet Union after 1945. These enemy countries were very much larger in size and also superior in armaments (in the 18th century, the population of France was at least five times that of Britain, and its army proportionately bigger). It is therefore quite reasonable that the idea should grow up of the "gallant little island" massively outnumbered by its foes. As is the way of mythologies, this basic attitude persisted even when Britain had become a major power.
The position of the U.S.A. is quite different. As a superpower from the time early in the 20th century when it first became involved in international politics, America's appropriate national myth is that of "Superman", who crushes all enemies with his overwhelmingly superior strength; precisely what Orwell described as "Jack the Dwarf-killer". This is coupled with the Hollywood-cowboy ideology which teaches that all the problems of the world can be sorted out by the simple process of socking the bad guys on the jaw. Furthermore, it's easy to tell who the bad guys are: they are anyone who opposes American interests. This attitude can still be seen in American foreign policy.
On a related theme, there is an interesting difference between the James Bond books and the films. In the books, Bond is always on his own when facing deadly danger, and is entirely reliant on his toughness and cunning to see him through. In the films, by contrast, he is equipped in advance with items of amazing technology which you know will give him the edge over his enemies. I don't think enough attention has been given to the heavy sado-masochistic element in the novels: in every book Bond is savagely beaten up, tortured, or is seconds away from some particularly painful and gruesome death. This aspect is missing from the films, and you never feel Bond is in any real peril.
The George Orwell essay in question is called "Raffles and Miss Blandish"; a survey of changes in the nature and tone of detective fiction. In it, amongst other things, he contrasts Sherlock Holmes, who solves his problems by individual intelligence without any help from the professionals of Scotland Yard, with modern fictional detectives who are supported by the immense resources of an organised police force and forensic scientists. Orwell also points out that in more recent detective stories the forces of law and order are often just as violent in their behaviour as the criminals. He suggests that the only moral to be drawn from such stories is that we should always side with the "big battalions", and that admiration for the police often comes close to mere bully-worship: we side with them not because they are morally better than the crooks, but merely because they are stronger.