The writing on the wall is clear -- and, in many ways, it's tough to watch. When I attended Ahmadinejad's annual New York City press lunch this week -- an odd, well-worn ritual he holds with American journalists between speeches at the United Nations General Assembly -- the decline was unmissable, as were its implications.

Ahmadinejad must have been looking forward to his annual trip to New York as a chance to regain the limelight. Even before he left Iran, he stoked the embers of a dependably eager media by proclaiming to the Washington Post and NBC that he intended to pardon two US hikers still in prison. Predictably, the announcement made instant headlines, and Ahmadinejad was once again the center of world attention. That is, until his conservative rivals in the judiciary reined him back in. And so, in a not-so-subtle reminder that Ahmadinejad is on the outs, the judiciary waited until the president's plane left Iranian airspace before they let the hikers go free.

The strain of all this is beginning to show. When asked during a press conference last Friday whether he holds any sway on the country's nuclear policy, or if the Supreme Leader calls all the shots as many experts believe, Ahmadinejad fired back somewhat testily. "What difference does it make?" he said. "Of course the government, the administration" -- his administration -- "runs the foreign policy. The government decides on the foreign policy direction for Iran," he stressed, protesting perhaps a little too much. After all, there is a tension between the powers he claims to possess and the limits to that power evident in recent months. U.S. negotiators learned this lesson the hard way following the first high level meeting on the nuclear issue two years ago, when Ahmadinejad supported a US-backed fuel swap proposal only to have that deal cancelled by his more powerful colleagues. Since then, his political fortunes have been marred by disagreement over cabinet appointments and even threats of impeachment.

Apparently somebody in Iran thinks it makes a difference who is in charge, and that somebody prefers to keep Ahmadinejad out in the cold.

The biggest news out of Ahmadinejad's visit may be that the man is no longer newsworthy. After seven years of the same rehearsed outrage, many media and policy makers have learned that little of substance comes out of Ahmadinejad's bombast. True, Western diplomats exited the assembly hall en masse during his speech, but this was more ritual than calculation. Washington hardly spent time showing off its outrage, isolating the Iranian leader by ignoring him rather than attacking him.

Unfortunately, this lesson also applies to the few bright spots that arose during the visit as well, notably Ahmadinejad's repeated promise to stop uranium enrichment above low levels if the U.S. or some other supplier would agree to sell nuclear fuel to Iran on the open market. Proliferation groups like the Institute for Science and International Security have greeted this offer with enthusiasm, calling on Washington to explore the opportunity. But there is little reason to believe that Ahmadinejad can deliver on his promises without substantial help from others in Iran's power center. If a deal on enrichment is possible -- which it very well may be -- it is probably not going to hinge on whether or not Ahmadinejad supports it. And it certainly will not be as simple as he made it out to be.