Conservative supporters watching the slow-motion unraveling of their party’s campaign over the past two weeks, as questions stemming from the Duffy trial have sideswiped Prime Minister Stephen Harper’s daily events, are bound to feel irked as they hear reporters repeat variations on the same questions day after day, so the PM can repeat his pro forma evasions.

But where would that annoyance be directed, one wonders, if these same partisans were aware of the extent to which this daily media drubbing of Harper — call it Chinese water torture — has been self-inflicted?

Thursday, as has long been his habit when on campaign or campaign-style swings, Harper made his prepared policy announcement, an expanded tax benefit for adoptive parents, then took five questions — four reserved for Parliamentary Press Gallery reporters accompanying the campaign, one for local media. Of the PPG questions, at least one goes to a francophone news outlet, typically Radio Canada.

The practical effect of de facto restricting the number of questions and responses that will reach a nationwide audience to three, is to force reporters on the campaign bus or plane to focus their tiny treasure trove of questions on the areas of essential interest to all their news desks. In this campaign, over the past two weeks, that has meant all Nigel, all the time. A national reporter who wastes a question on something already known — for example, the prime minister’s view of the necessity of combating terrorism — is not doing his or her job.

This can lead to an uncomfortable dynamic, where the hand-picked audience attending an announcement by the PM, expecting to hear reporters quiz him about the new funding or tax break, instead hear them rattle on about the latest scandal. That often makes partisan attendees unhappy.

But here’s a different question: What would be the result if the PM, rather than parcel out media access to him as though it’s the rarest of gifts, suddenly opened the spigots? What if he, as Liberal Leader Justin Trudeau has been doing at recent campaign stops, "ran the table" and fielded every question from every reporter in the room, not once, but for days on end?

For starters, there are only so many ways a reporter can frame the same basic question. "If your chief of staff, Ray Novak, knew in advance of the $90,000 payment by his former boss, Nigel Wright, to Senator Mike Duffy, then why is he still your chief of staff?"

Thursday the alpha question morphed to exquisite new heights of complexity, as reporters tried to head off Harper’s dodges: "Please don’t say you don’t accept the premise of my question . . ." It’s inevitable, though, that after the fifth, seventh, 10th or 15th restatement of the PM’s basic claim that he did not know of the $90,000 payment, that only Wright and Duffy are responsible, that Wright’s underlings are not to blame, and so on, all avenues would be exhausted, and someone, perhaps even Harper himself, would pivot to another issue, thereby making news on another file. That’s what leaders do in debate; Harper can do it rather well.

In the absence of such pivots, news stories out of the Conservative campaign, until the Duffy trial adjourns next week and perhaps a few days after, will be variations on this theme: "Nigel Wright affair continues to dog Harper on campaign trail." Conservative strategists can think the damage in the intervening days won’t be permanent. That would be a gamble, with a great deal riding on the outcome.

Bottom line? The prime minister’s penchant for limiting and controlling his interactions with the media is itself contributing to and magnifying a campaign going off the rails. Rather than hang the messenger, unhappy Tories might consider asking why this is so.

Twitter.com/mdentandt