Nine months ago, the Shorten team became somewhat more bold when there was virtually universal agreement that Labor had virtually no chance of winning this time around. Most thought, moreover, that there would be no Bill Shorten as leader of the opposition next time around after that. With nothing to lose, Labor began issuing some policy ideas, with a deliberate early focus on doing so in the area where, traditionally, Labor is seen as being most weak, with the budget and economic management. It did so to show itself serious, interested and purposive about the problems it would face if it were to get government. It may well have succeeded.

Labor did not talk about budgets, borrowing and deficits so as, as some would call it, to "put out the garbage". It wanted to set the agenda and in the area where the coalition is still rated, by voters, as being stronger. Labor's tactic seems not only to have wrong-footed Turnbull and a new, inexperienced and unconfident Treasurer but to have reduced their tactical options.

The Coalition, no doubt, has ammunition on hand, and some major policy announcements to make before the end of the month. But the framing of the remainder of its campaign is very much constrained by its May budget, its claim to have a plan for jobs and growth, and the mangle of essentially meaningless words about innovation, agility, resilience with which it has sought to persuade people that it knows what it is doing and where it is going. That, of course, and the industry plan pretending to be a defence plan by which the Coalition hopes to stave off serious losses, whether to Nick Xenophon and Labor in South Australia.

Whatever Labor promised, it could expect that the Coalition would decry its figures as economically irresponsible, evidence of its having learnt nothing and of being the "same old Labor". All of that has happened, if within limits that put pressure on Turnbull's own capacity to calculate. "Same old", as applied to economic policy, is still, probably, the most effective line being used against the party. Subsidiary "same old lines" – for example on immigration – may be losing some of their effectiveness.

But it is increasing obvious even to voters only now starting to pay attention that there is very little practical difference between Labor and the Coalition on broad fiscal intentions. The difference is the less significant given a clear intention and specified path of drawing in the deficit, and the low cost of borrowing money at a time when there is a purpose in spending money. No matter how hard the Coalition tries, it ought to be difficult for it to pretend that it has a grip and a policy on both government revenue and expenditure that the opposition will lack.

This is not only because the Abbott and the Turnbull governments completely failed to address the former Labor government's supposed "debt and deficit disasters" in the way that they claimed they would. In fact they have made them much worse, for what that is worth.

One can shudder as much as one likes with memories of Julia Gillard and Kevin Rudd. But their political debacle was not a result of particular profligacy with government spending. Indeed on the record, they seem to have been better at reining it in for the year ahead than Abbott and Hockey, or later, Turnbull and Scott Morrison. Labor government's budget problems, like those of the current Coalition, were more a function of unexpected and unpredicted collapses of revenue (and, earlier, the need to prime the economy because of the GFC) than because of a want of fiscal discipline.

If record depends as much on performance as on statements of intention, the Coalition would simply have no recent claim to being an intrinsically better manager of the public dollar.

Indeed one of the sources of bitterness, fury and tension in modern Labor is that in government it has always been slow, cautious and conservative with the bottom line, so as to satisfy the ideology of the financial markets. If there has been a disposition to have a bigger and more activist agenda than the Coalition in health, education and welfare, there have been tighter (and unpopular) management of resources to liberate fresh money from which it could be funded. Indeed both Shorten and Chris Bowen can claim that their election commitments testify to the same processes.

But balancing the books, short or medium term, is not nearly as important as the broad health of the economy. Fiscal policy – deficits, and how and where government spends money and draws it in – has been for some time playing a bigger role in requiring government deficits than the policy agendas or ideologies of political parties. The complete Abbott-Hockey retreat from its first budget was not merely a consequence of heavy political reaction and incapacity to get the more drastic measures through the Senate. It was also a reflection of a judgment that the economy was fragile and in need of stimulation – a need that the Turnbull budget also recognised as necessary during the term of the next government, of whatever stripe.

With the political parties arguing about fractions of a per cent of GDP around some notional ideal of, say 25 per cent, the dollar differences are never going to be great. Neither a British Conservative Treasurer, nor a French socialist one would know what the argument was about.

The Coalition is, with some success, pushing the notion that it has a plan for growth, and for jobs, and that this plan is closely attuned to the way that the world, and Australia's potential position in it is developing. Its budget, in this sense, is projected not merely as some set on numbers for muddling along, but as a fresh investment so we can anticipate, drive and take advantage of changing circumstances. The Coalition has been very active in seeking to open markets, and in opening new trade deals, even if our capacity to take any great advantage of them may be inhibited for a long time because of slowing world economic growth and demand, and much reduced commodity prices. It sees a new economy dominated by new computer and information technology, and believes that government must lead the nation into being "nimble" and agile, in being able to catch the waves. Turnbull inspires considerable confidence in his appreciation of what new technology is doing, and how it will change the business environment.

Perhaps Shorten, or some other Labor figures (a 21st century Barry Jones, for example) cannot match him for the talk.

But they can certainly match him on action. Turnbull has no copyright on the idea of a plan, a program, a set of projects which fitted into a coherent whole. Actually, Labor is using the word "plan" too, but is letting it slip under a fog of smoother, more reassuring words, about "putting people first" and "strengthening the economy". It shouldn't be. The plan's the thing.

Labor has its own reasons, and its own constituencies for arguing for expenditure on health and education. But the idea of either as a direct investment in Australians fitting into the new economy is as good as any, and can contain all the others. Likewise, with promises of fresh investment in CSIRO and scientific research (compared with Turnbull's actual disinvestment in pure science and an indifferent general performance in applied R&D.) And with action on the environment, climate change, and, either as a part of that, or in its own right, action to protect the Great Barrier Reef.

To cap it off, Labor has by far the more persuasive idea of what a national broadband system should be. The public seems to know this, and that the Turnbull alternative has been badly managed, and is a decidedly inferior solution. Turnbull's record on NBN seriously undermines his claim to be the man who will lead Australia into the future.

Effective broadband delivery ought to be the wrapping by which Labor demonstrates that it has been planning for the new economy. It gives it the capacity to link all of its other policies, to make them seem all natural ingredients of a complete package. It explains why Labor wants focused investment in higher education, not more expensive degrees. Why it wants a greater investment in coping with systemic disadvantage in primary and secondary education. Or action to increase workforce participation, and to manage disability. Or improved physical and social infrastructure, including better health and better health care. Or a drive (admittedly matched by Turnbull) for better city planning, public transport solutions and a focus on improving work-home balances, and a better (if not necessarily higher) quality of life.

Focusing on the plan is not a mere matter of packaging, although that matters too. It is a function of showing that policies are not a mere ragbag, negotiated individually with different interest groups, or resolved by Shorten himself and a tiny group of cronies in a back room. The "plan" rather is the best current encapsulation of what Labor is all about, and why Labor exists at all. Within that framework, one can argue with passion about particular items, or particular priorities, but in a manner which explains how things fit in with each other.

It has long been said that when voters are talking about "mummy issues" such as health, education and welfare, they are on Labor's ground, and Labor ought to have the advantage. Likewise, it is said, talk about the economy and national security issues involves stern father issues, and should be to the Coalition's advantage. Perhaps, but the notion of a plan, a program, an integrated and coherent set of projects belongs as much in the social as in the economic sphere. Even if there is a reservoir of distrust (whether against Labor in particular or against all politicians), the evidence suggests that voters can get somewhat more excited about a party if they feel it has an idea of what it is doing.

It is to the credit of Shorten and his team that they have packaged up an array of programs and policies that can meet the description of being a such a plan, even if it must be said to lack either the grandeur, or the intellectual inputs, of what Gough Whitlam called, from 1967, "the program". The Shorten manifesto is, in particular, distinctly lacking in elements which, however worthy or inexpensive, appeal to the heart, the emotions, to old party mythology and to Australian sentiment. That the processes of cobbling it together have involved some very hard-nosed bargaining and choices, based on accountancy, gives it additional credibility. It must be said, indeed, that the relatively recent experience in government, and of its never-ending agonies of cabinet expenditure review, has enhanced the credibility of its packages in a way that was impossible with a Whitlam team, nearly two decades out of government.

Alas, from Labor's point of view, the word "plan" has already been appropriated in the public space by Turnbull and the Coalition. Shorten uses the word "plan" too, but one would not find that word closely associated with him in a mind-map. His best chance, in what is still a long campaign ahead, is to etch an association of the word with himself.

No doubt there's a natural tendency, if one party keeps hammering home words such as "plan", "jobs", "growth" for it to be implied that Labor is devoid of a plan, and is against jobs or growth. Or that it cannot be trusted on it, in the same manner that it cannot be trusted to repel refugees, deal with terrorism or save us from political correctness. Slogans don't win elections. But ideas they convey can.

But then again, perhaps he is trying to be nimble. Both Shorten and Turnbull, and their would-be treasurers, manage to convey great certainty that their "plan" (whichever) will set the agenda for the next government. No risk, of course, of any of them having to be torn up immediately on Britain's deciding to leave the European Community (if it does), Donald Trump's becoming president, a crisis with China, Japan or North Korea, or some natural or national security disaster. No doubt each has been factored in. As Ike Eisenhower once remarked, plans in practice are generally useless, but planning is essential.