If the opposition had toppled the Conservative government last spring, on the budget or any other major policy difference, the federal election then might have been about big issues, like the economy and the government's plan to avoid the worst in coming months.
But the Liberals let the government survive and this election campaign, so far, has not been about big issues.
Mostly, it has been about leadership, and that is precisely what Stephen Harper wanted.
Instead of a referendum on the Conservatives, their economic plans and their vision of the country, this election has turned largely into a referendum on Stéphane Dion, and the No seems to be winning.
Can Dion turn things around? Can he rise to the occasion?
Maybe, but the task appears daunting.
Even if public opinion is receptive to Liberal policies, Dion faces an uphill battle to consolidate his leadership and establish himself as a credible alternative to Harper as prime minister.
Part of the problem is that Dion is an accidental leader.
He entered the December 2006 convention a distant third, with virtually no support in Quebec, and he won largely because Bob Rae's supporters were allergic to Michael Ignatieff, and vice versa. Although in victory Dion avoided the mistakes of his predecessor and gave prominent roles to his rivals, the party remained divided and never fully rallied behind him.
Since his selection, Dion never gained the political momentum that would have allowed him to take the initiative and defeat the government.
In poll after poll, it has become increasingly obvious that perceptions of Dion as an ineffective leader and an unlikely prime minister are the main obstacles to a Liberal comeback.
Why is that so? After all, as a leader Dion is not without assets.
He has a first-rate analytical mind, an intimate knowledge of the inner workings of government and an unusual command of the details of public policy issues. He has a fierce determination and an uncommon capacity to work. He is also a relentless debater who can tear his opponent's arguments to shreds – at least in his own language.
These qualities, however, do not always translate into winning assets in the game of politics, whether the goal is to convert opponents or to rally partisans.
As an academic, my former colleague always debated with a fierce determination to win. When he did win, he rarely saved a way out for those he argued with, but he could change his mind when confronted with superior logic and evidence.
In politics, however, disagreements are seldom settled by logic and evidence alone. Successful politicians always give those they seek to convince a way to save face.
It is in part this character trait – the combative but seemingly arrogant and insensitive intellectual who appeared to have little empathy for the feelings of those he was arguing with – that made Dion one of the least liked politicians in Quebec from the day he entered public life.
Nor did that trait endear him to some of his colleagues in the federal cabinet, where he often knew the files of some departments better than the ministers themselves.
In a province where nearly two-thirds of voters – including Dion himself – have at some point in their life sympathized with the idea of sovereignty, his relentless determination to crush the sovereigntists and his abrasive style have not been forgiven, even among federalists.
It is well known that Jean Chrétien pulled him from academia because he admired his determination in defending the federalist status quo. However, the public positions stridently voiced by Dion as a professor were often at odds with mainstream Quebec federalist thinking, which was and still remains closer to Robert Bourassa's pragmatic autonomist views than to Pierre Trudeau's doctrinaire centralism.
Thus, as was made clear during the Liberal leadership campaign, Dion has virtually no grassroots network of committed supporters in francophone Quebec. Even if his vision of federalism nowadays is more flexible than most Quebecers think, he is carrying too much baggage to shake off his image as an uncompromising centralizer.
Indeed, one of the clearest signs that Dion is in trouble can be seen in some polls where, even within the modest proportion of Quebec francophones who intend to vote for the Liberals, less than half identify him as the best qualified to serve as prime minister.
That is why Harper wants this campaign to be about leadership.
Outside Quebec, much has been said about Dion's flaws, including his mangled English, stiff manner and awkward humour, and about the challenge he still faces as he strives to project the image of a strong leader.
Clearly, he needs to change perceptions of his leadership abilities and inspire confidence if he is to have any chance at successfully communicating his complex and seemingly risky plan for a carbon tax, but this change will have to go beyond image-making.
If voters outside Quebec are looking for evidence that Dion is strong enough to govern in tough times, the true test of his leadership should be whether he can reverse his party's misfortunes in Quebec.
If he does, that would be strong evidence that he could be ready to lead the country. But the odds are getting awfully long.
Pierre Martin is a professor of political science at the Université de Montréal.