Given his tendency to behave like a confused 14-year old in charge of a copy of Hamlet whenever he is asked to read a script or express an unbidden thought (he was at it again last week when he referred to a condition called dilexia), it must be at least possible that instead of laying claim to the legacy of Marx, Engels and Robin Hood, what he was actually saying was: "I am a socialite."

This theory is hardly weakened by Ahern's recent nomination by The Irish Examiner as Ireland's number-one party person. Truly, Bertie Ahern would attend the opening of an old wound.

Let us assume, however, that the Taoiseach wasn't being dilexic and that he did mean to suggest that he was a socialist. What could he have been at? What possible motivation could the leader of one of the most unequal societies in the developed world have had in coming out as a socialist, other than to add to the gaiety of the nation?

I have a theory on that one, too, one which involves giving credit to the Taoiseach's legendary political nose, which picks up the scent of change amongst his people almost before the people themselves know that they are in tumult. This theory proposes that at some point, the Taoiseach perceived a leftward shift in the wider world which he believed, sooner rather than later, would permeate the hearts and minds of the Irish. Who knows when he first sensed this . . . perhaps during the anti-Iraq war marches in February 2003 . . . but whenever it occurred to him, he naturally thought he might have a piece of it, for himself and for his party.

In the United States, never noted as a bastion of leftism, people are sometimes asked in opinion polls whether they regard themselves as conservative or liberal. Invariably, liberal having become a term of abuse in US politics, twice as many people opt to be described as the c-word. When, however, those same people are asked to give their opinions on a whole range of issues . . . from healthcare to education, from abortion rights to the fight against poverty . . . they express views that more naturally fit the left/liberal model.

Something similar is afoot in Ireland, according to a recent nationwide survey by Amarach Consulting, which was reported in the Sunday Tribune in October.

In 1981, the survey said, only 5% described their political leanings as left-wing. Eighteen per cent thought of themselves as right wing.

A quarter of a century later, however, 18% say they are left wing, while 12% are of the right.

Most people in both surveys placed themselves in the centre of the political spectrum.

The reasons for this leftward drift are probably easily enough explained. The influence of a highly dangerous regime in the United States has led to the election of new left-wing governments in Central and South America, in countries such as Nicaragua, Brazil, Argentina, Bolivia, Ecuador and Venezuela. In Europe, close association with the United States has led to the replacement of rightwing governments in Italy and Spain and to Tony Blair's pariah status in the UK. It would be odd indeed if there had not been some ripple effect into Ireland.

More broadly, however, this drift to the left can be put down to the fact that in nearly every major issue of the last decade, the left has called it right. (If you get my meaning). On global warming, on the effects of unchecked globalisation, on the war in Iraq, on the war against terrorism, the left has set the agenda and won the argument.

It is no wonder that an increasing number of Irish people are happy to associate themselves with the winning team. And no surprise at all that Bertie Ahern is trying to bathe in the reflected glory.

Last Sunday night's edition of The Week In Politics was fascinating when set in the above context.

As you'll no doubt be aware by now, RTE employed the US pollster Frank Luntz to oversee a focus group of 30 non-committed voters from Dublin, Meath and KiIdare. He played them speeches by party leaders and gauged their reaction by means of an electronic gadget. Even allowing for the fact that Luntz does not inspire confidence and that . . . it seemed to me . . . the group was gently nudged towards particular viewpoints in the interests of good television, there was plenty of meat in the programme.

Particularly valuable was the clear suggestion that the voters don't want the opposition to oppose. They want them to propose. Instead of constant sniping, bitching and character assassination, they want vision. Instead of kneejerk calls for ministers to resign, they want original manifestos for change. Instead of lists of achievements on the one hand, and lists of failures on the other, they want politicians who can articulate and refine a political vision which allows people to feel proud of and entitled to everything they have achieved during the economic boom, but also argues convincingly that they, and the communities they are part of, are entitled to so much better.

When Frank Luntz's focus groupers were exposed to speeches from Enda Kenny and Pat Rabbitte which strayed tentatively into such visionary territory, they responded positively.

When confronted with party leaders who appeared to empathise with the undoubted frustrations of modern Irish life, their perceptions of those people changed. There was a clear hunger for a new analysis of Irish life and society.

By its nature, that analysis must be of a left/liberal bent, because the people are moving naturally that way anyway (as the Taoiseach understands) and because the problems that exist currently are principally the result of a decade of incompetent right-wing administration. Enda Kenny and Pat Rabbitte (and Trevor Sargent too) now have six months to articulate that vision and propose those solutions. They should all be emboldened by what they saw last Sunday night.