If you're a political leader, you can expect to get asked some unfair, unanswerable questions.

If you're Michael Dukakis in 1988, for instance, a presidential debate opens with CNN's Bernard Shaw asking a wildly inappropriate question as to whether you'd favour the death penalty for someone who raped and murdered your wife.

If you're Dalton McGuinty in the 1999 Ontario leaders debate, you watch your campaign come crashing down as Robert Fisher (then of Global-TV) scores a more effective blow than any of your opponents by rhyming off your failings and effectively asking why you're such a terrible leader.

And if you're Stephen Harper in 2005, you get asked whether you love Canada.

In fairness to Mr. Harper, he's not been among those who have bemoaned the unfairness of the query put forward at his first press conference of the fledgling federal election campaign. That's been left to supporters in both the blogosphere and the mainstream media - including the Toronto Sun's Lorrie Goldstein, who more or less devoted an entire column to explaining how the question demonstrated that "[Paul] Martin's going to get a relatively free ride from the national media and Harper's going to get killed."

But the truth is, it was Mr. Harper's poor handling of the question that led to his fans taking umbrage on his behalf. Had it been put to Mr. Martin, who undoubtedly would have launched into a syrupy ode to his country's merits and a pledge of undying love to it, conservatives would have complained that the fawning media had served up another softball to the Liberals.

And really, for a seasoned political leader of any stripe, it was a softball - the sort of question that lends the opportunity to frame talking points in the most positive light possible.

For Mr. Harper, the right answer should have been obvious: "Of course I love this country. I love it so much that I can't stand to see the Liberals continue to let it down ..." At which point, he could have either let that speak for itself, or launched into an optimistic account of how the Tories would make Canada even better.

Instead, the Conservative leader appeared to be caught flat-footed, launching into a dull ramble about traveling the country and seeing its potential, and never allowing the word "love" to pass through his lips.

To be clear, Mr. Harper's answer was not a sign of the lack of patriotism which the Liberals would like us to believe is his biggest shortcoming. Rather, it was a sign of his lack of political acumen, which is his biggest shortcoming.

A skilled politician should be able to turn every question - however unfair or irrelevant it may seem to him - to his advantage. In this case, Mr. Harper should have exploited the opportunity to counter the public impression that he's cold and overly negative. And he blew it.

As unfair as the questions to them may have been, it was their reactions that did Messrs. Dukakis and McGuinty lasting damage. In Mr. Dukakis' case, his dispassionate response to a scenario that should have raised his blood pressure reinforced his image as boring and wimpy, rather than countering it. And when Mr. McGuinty's response to Mr. Fisher's attack was so weak ("I want to make it clear that I make no claim to perfection...") that rival Mike Harris felt compelled to come to his defence, it confirmed voters' suspicions that the Liberal leader wasn't ready for prime time.

Between now and the Jan. 23 election, Mr. Harper will be asked far more challenging, hostile and potentially damaging questions than whether he loves Canada. The Conservatives had best hope he's better prepared for them than he was for this one.