Never mind the controversial comma. The real problem with Labour's rhetorical question - "But, are you happy?" - was the risk that people would give the wrong answer (ie "Yes"), writes Frank McNally.
And sure enough, that's what they appear to have done in yet another international survey that shows the Irish to be among the most cheerful citizens of Europe.
Not as cheerful as the Danes, admittedly, who just as consistently top the European happiness league (Division 1) and have done so again in a study by Cambridge University. But the Irish finished joint second alongside the Finns, and ahead of those other giants of contentment, the Swedes and Dutch.
The British were ninth. And the striking thing is that while northern Europeans dominate the top placings, the countries they like to holiday in are all at the other end. If the happiness league had relegation, Greece, Portugal, and Italy would be fighting to avoid the drop.
It's a common response for nations that score highly in these surveys to be surprised at the results. Any Danes I know will be mystified at their alleged happiness. The Finns may be even more bewildered. A cousin of mine worked in Helsinki for a few years, and one of the things he could never understand was the enthusiasm with which locals declared summer over every year, turning all the park fountains off in early September, a full two months before there was any risk of the pipes freezing.
Ireland's repeated high showing in satisfaction surveys is no less a mystery. When this country topped the Economist'sglobal quality of life index a couple of years back, many of us wondered if the magazine had mixed our file up with Iceland's. It is certainly hard to square Ireland's happiness ranking with the myriad daily indicators of discontentment, such as the number of callers queuing up to talk to Joe.
Another common response to these studies is to wonder who gets chosen to participate. Have you ever been interviewed for one? Me neither. In fact, in a survey I've just invented for the purposes of this article, 42 per cent of people said they had never been questioned for a major opinion poll, 35 per cent couldn't remember being questioned, and 23 per cent had no opinion.
But since you ask, the Cambridge study was based on something called the European Social Survey, a biennial exercise in which 20,000 people are invited to rate their happiness on a scale of 1 to 10. The figures were then checked against a more wide-ranging survey designed by psychologists, and including questions about religious belief and trust in the institutions of government. The Irish-Finnish score was 8.1.
That there were psychologists involved in framing the questions suggests the study is proof against one possible criticism: that the people questioned only think they're happy. Then again, capacity for self-delusion may be a legitimate resource in an international happiness competition. And anyway, Freud claimed the Irish were uniquely immune to psychoanalysis.
So, since my guess is as good as his, I believe that what makes us happy is our talent for complaining eloquently and at length to each other (but not to people in authority or to academics carrying out surveys) about how awful everything is. It's a great release. As for the Finns, I suggest the key to their contentment is profound pessimism, which guards them against the vicissitudes of fate.
But how to explain those poor, miserable southern Europeans: wallowing in sunshine most of the year, cursed with unlimited supplies of cheap wine and good food, and widely credited with making life an art form? Well, a big contributor to the hellishness of their existence must be constant exposure to holidaymakers from Northern Europe, squeezing all the highlights of their year into two weeks and grimly intent on enjoying themselves. Not only do the visitors have a great time, they constantly remark about how wonderful it must be to live here permanently. If the reality is less than perfect - as it always will be - no wonder the locals feel their lives are inadequate.
Getting back to the Labour slogan, theirs has not been the only opposition poster to risk evoking the wrong response. Fine Gael's "Everything is just great" campaign was also problematic, even aside from the usual issues connected with irony (that Alanis Morissette won't understand it, etc). It's not that many Irish people would agree that everything is great. But in their better moments, they might admit to it being "grand".
In fact, happiness is not a condition that a normal Irish person even recognises. Being "grand" is the most we aspire to. And although visitors are sometimes bemused about what exactly this means, the next time one of them asks you can put a figure on it, courtesy of the European Social Survey. On a scale of 1-10, "grand" is 8.1, more or less. (This should not be confused with another Irish concept, "the craic", which is always measured at exactly 90.)