Lewis grew up in New Orleans, and his voice, which retains the ghost of a southern accent, is an asset to him as a podcaster. He sounds both commanding and homespun. More important, his writerly voice, his way of concisely describing people and concepts, translates more or less intact to this format. Thomas Hoving, the former director of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, “trusted his first impressions,” Lewis says. “Actually, that’s not quite right. He made a fetish of his first impressions.” In the middle of the episode about financial protection, after talking about issues like identity theft and the frustrating hurdles involved in managing student debt, Lewis laments “the total inability of anyone to solve anything.”

“Against the Rules” is produced by Pushkin Industries, the podcast company co-founded by Malcolm Gladwell and Jacob Weisberg. It’s unclear about halfway through the show’s run — three of its seven weekly installments are online now — just how Lewis plans to connect the dots between the different types of agitation toward authority. He says early on that investigating this subject can tell us a lot about “the crisis that we find ourselves in.” President Trump says the system is rigged. So do Warren and Bernie Sanders. The privileged try to protect what they have by evading authority and regulation. The less fortunate feel strangled by red tape. Basketball fans think the refs have it in for their team, their stars. The teams and stars feel the same. Those paranoid in contradictory directions can’t all be right. Or can they?

If you’re used to reading Lewis’s books in silence, the accouterments that come with many podcasts will stick out more than they normally might. There are moments when it seems that the main difference between Lewis on this show and Lewis on the page is that a high-hat drum sometimes plays behind his voice on the show.

He partakes in some moves that are perhaps inevitable tools of the trade but still feel contrived. He coyly lowers his voice to conspire with listeners as key moments or twists arrive. He turns his reporting into drama starring himself — Michael Moore-ish moments such as when he is stymied trying to speak to someone at the offices of the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau.

He interrupts his stories to read ads for Quip, an electric toothbrush, and for LinkedIn. There is probably no un-cringeworthy way to do this.