Choice of Special Election Typifies Christie Gov. Chris Christie outside the Park Avenue Synagogue in Manhattan on Wednesday after the funeral service for Senator Frank R. Lautenberg. Even before Frank R. Lautenberg's death, Gov. Chris Christie had a solution on how to fill the United States Senate seat he would vacate, a choice the governor knew was rich with political risk and reward. He would hold a special election in October, just three weeks before Election Day. It would cost the state $24 million for Mr. Christie to avoid appearing on the ballot with the one candidate he believed could threaten him as he cruised to re-election. But it was legal, and Mr. Christie believed he could argue that it was in keeping with his for-the-people brand. The governor moved with characteristic speed, settling on the approach the night Mr. Lautenberg's death was announced, according to advisers. The next morning, he and his staff discussed how to sell the move to New Jersey voters, coming up with the high-minded slogan "a choice and a voice." Mr. Christie's decision provides insight into his political instincts, and how he has gotten away with strokes that other politicians might never dare: embracing the opposite party's president with just days to go until Election Day, calling a news conference to criticize the House speaker from his own party, and now, holding a special election that is expensive, awkwardly timed and unlikely to help Republicans - other than himself. His demeanor sometimes makes it seem he acts on impulse, but his advisers say his decisions are disciplined and keenly politically calculated. He asks many questions of a small team of advisers, some from his days in the United States attorney's office or his first days in local politics, others brought in to shape his national strategy as he ponders running for president. He considers whether a move is consistent with his image as the reasonable everyman, a straight shooter. Once he makes a decision, he sells it with a rigid confidence - "We're doing it," he told reporters several times on Tuesday, sounding a bit like a parent saying "because I said so." He betrays few regrets, except, occasionally, for his choice of words when he becomes too confrontational or even insulting. His staff may sometimes cringe at a lack of discipline in his execution, as on Tuesday when he said he did not know and did not care how much the special election would cost. But he manages to make those moments just another manifestation of his authenticity. Former Gov. Jim Florio, whose Democratic politics rarely intersect with the governor's more conservative Republican leanings, recently told of Mr. Christie's calling him to ask advice shortly after he was elected three years ago. "I said, "I always tried to give my enemies some option other than killing me," " Mr. Florio told an audience at a panel discussion last week. "He said, "That's not my style." " Nor is it Mr. Christie's style to internalize a memo and emerge with a decision. Advisers and friends describe him as chatty and quick to dial his cellphone to seek advice or try out ideas. He keeps a tight circle around him. Those he regularly consults on major decisions include his wife, Mary Pat; William J. Palatucci, his former law partner, who first helped Mr. Christie into Republican politics; his chief of staff, Kevin O'Dowd; Mike DuHaime and Bill Stepien, who have been longtime campaign advisers; and his communications director, Maria Comella. But the consultations change depending on what questions he needs to ask. When he chose to have weight-reduction surgery, he called Rex Ryan, the Jets coach who had had the same procedure. In strategizing to fill Mr. Lautenberg's seat, he spoke with former Gov. Thomas H. Kean, whom Mr. Christie describes as his mentor. He also sought legal opinions from his attorney general, Jeffrey S. Chiesa, and his legal counsel, Charles B. McKenna, whom advisers describe as particularly good at gaming out legal strategy. Mr. Palatucci said that what got lost in the portrayal of Mr. Christie as brash and blunt-spoken - though he is those - was that he listens well. "I noticed this with Chris when we were practicing law," he said. A new client would come in, everyone would be firing questions at this person, but he was the guy who was sitting there listening. Lawyers often have a particular view of a controversy, but not Chris Christie; he would take it all in, then formulate his advice or a position. There is little question, though, that Mr. Christie's final stance is often shaped by politics.