At a rally this week in Wisconsin, Donald Trump launched into an imitation of his own staff, pleading with him to behave differently. The performance was a classic of the genre.

It came during a riff about how he wants to “protect the women,” a formulation his advisers apparently do not appreciate. “‘Sir, please don’t say that,’” he said in the tone of voice a child uses to imitate an adult. “They said, ‘We think it’s very inappropriate for you to say.’ I said, ‘Why, I’m president? I want to protect the women of our country.’ They said, ‘Sir, I just think it’s inappropriate for you to say.’”

He added, “I pay these guys a lot of money. Can you believe it?” But then he told the audience not to worry, for he had stood up to the grown-ups on his payroll. “I said, ‘Well, I’m going to do it. Whether the women like it or not, I’m going to protect them.’”

Since the beginning of Mr. Trump’s political rise, this sort of flourish has been a feature of his political oratory. He builds up to something he is apparently not supposed to say, delighting his crowds when he says it anyway. His own staff often functions as the straw man in these scenarios, the overly cautious and overpaid stiffs he is defying in order to keep it real at all times.

Mr. Trump did become president by ignoring the advice of political hacks and doing whatever his gut told him to. But nearly a decade later, what he presents as acts of untamed spontaneity are often actually quite deliberate. It’s all part of the routine by now. And yet, this ability to convey that he is doing or saying something daring or novel even when he is not remains part of his appeal with some voters.

The Wisconsin rally wasn’t even the first time he acted out that particular bit. Two nights earlier, he was in Atlanta, pretending to go off the same script: “I think it’s fine to say I will protect the women of this country,” he said. “They said, ‘Please, sir. Please don’t say that.’”