The White House has vigorously denied that Trump’s decision was linked to the Russia investigation. According to the administration official who spoke to The Atlantic, Attorney General Jeff Sessions came to the conclusion “a while ago” that Comey needed to go; the official said the process had been delayed until a new deputy attorney general was in place. But the idea to fire Comey was clearly not generated by Sessions. In the White House press briefing on Wednesday, deputy press secretary Sarah Huckabee Sanders said Trump had been considering firing Comey since getting elected. After Rod Rosenstein was confirmed as deputy attorney general last month, he reviewed Comey’s record and produced a three-page memo detailing the FBI director’s failures, strongly implying that the president needed to fire him. Asked if anyone in the White House directed or encouraged Rosenstein to look into Comey, the official said: “Not that I know of.”

Many observers were shocked, even taking the White House at its word, that Trump didn’t tread more lightly with Comey, given the politically charged nature of the FBI’s Russia investigation. Historically, presidents tend to eschew unnecessary public drama. They prize quiet resignations over noisy firings, backstage maneuvering over high-profile slugfests. When a White House is facing a scandal, the traditional response is to project steadiness and calm—a posture designed to downplay the potency of the controversy and avoid the appearance of crisis.

But, of course, this president has never been one to glide above the fray.

Throughout his political rise, Trump has demonstrated an instinct—honed over decades of courting the New York City tabloids—to always lean into controversy. He invites conflict at every turn; visits scandal with more scandal; and deliberately, relentlessly, heightens the various dramas that surround him.

This pattern manifested itself repeatedly on the campaign trail. When a Republican senator called him a “jackass,” Trump didn’t ignore the jab—he read out the senator’s personal cell-phone number during a rally and urged angry supporters to call him. When the Access Hollywood tape leaked, he responded by holding a press conference with women who had accused Bill Clinton of sexual improprieties.

His modus operandi as a candidate was to make text out of subtext, whether he was assailing the “rapists” and “murderers” crossing the border from Mexico, or saddling his political foes with on-the-nose nicknames (Crooked Hillary, Lyin’ Ted, Liddle Marco) whose success resided in their lack of subtlety.

If Trump was intent on dispatching the FBI director, he could have proceeded more delicately—softening up the ground beforehand with calculated leaks to the press, then privately requesting Comey’s resignation. But people close to the president said his handling of the situation was perfectly in character.