Steve Silberman’s passing was a tectonic blow to the neurodiversity community in general, as well as to our community here at TPGA. Our editor Shannon Rosa recently spoke with Noncompliant podcast host Anne Borden King about Steve’s legacy. The transcript of the conversation follows; you can also listen to the audio version on streaming sites like Spotify or ApplePodcasts.
Anne Borden King: Welcome to Noncompliant, a neurodiversity podcast. I’m your host, Anne Borden King. Today, I’m speaking with Shannon Rosa, an editor of Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism. We’ll be talking about what’s new at TPGA and in the neurodiversity movement, and also remembering author and advocate Steve Silberman. Let’s start with a clip from the first episode of Noncompliant, where Steve talks about neurodiversity in history.
Steve Silberman: Oh, in fact, I remember something that’s not in NeuroTribes. It was the most haunting fish that I almost caught and then lost. I came across a reference somewhere to a guy in the 19th century who seemed to be autistic. He lived alone. He liked it that way. He was living in a little village in Europe. He would not attend the Friday night dances that everyone went to in this little town.
What he did do was that he had an incredibly sophisticated understanding of all the drains in town. He fixed everyone’s drains and kept them running smoothly. This guy was like a systems thinker before there were systems, before there were computers. I think that’s why I say that I think autism is one of the shades of the human spectrum that has contributed to the development of science, art, technology, music. Look at Glenn Gould, the videos of him playing Bach. A, they’re so beautiful. B, he’s so autistic.
Anne: This is the Noncompliant podcast. I’m Anne Borden King, and I’m on the line with Shannon Rosa.
Shannon Rosa is senior editor of Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism, an autism information and advocacy nexus. Her writing can be found in The Washington Post and the anthology Autistic Community and the Neurodiversity Movement, among other places. She lives near San Francisco, California, with her husband and adult autistic son. Steve Silberman passed away on August 29th, 2024. He was the author of NeuroTribes in 2015, covering autism history and the neurodiversity movement. Shannon, your family knew Steve well, and I’m so sorry for your loss.
Shannon Rosa: Thank you. It’s been really brutal.
Anne: It is also a loss for our whole community because Steve was such an advocate for all disabled people and for autism to be included as a disability right. He was an advocate for human rights generally, and I know his work transformed parenting, autism services, and autism research. I think you saw a lot of that firsthand. His work also pivoted the public conversation away from the objectification of autistics towards centering autistic voices, and he was just a mensch. I wonder if you could share with us a few memories of Steve. How did you and Steve meet?
Shannon: First of all, I have to agree that he absolutely was a mensch. He was just a joyful person and spread that joy, and not in a goofy way. He was obviously deeply thoughtful, but there are some people who just radiate joy and compassion, and he was one of them.
Steve contacted me in, I believe it was 2011. At that point, I believe he had just gotten the proposal for NeuroTribes accepted, and he was looking for people to round out the stories he was going to include.
At that time, my son Leo, who is now 24, was only 10 years old. Leo was a poster boy for the new iPad, which had come out in 2010. Leo had taken to his iPad in a way that he hadn’t taken to any other technology or approaches before, in terms of being able to use his pretty incredible but underutilized visual recognition and pattern matching skills to entertain himself and educate himself. There had been a number of stories about Leo in various outlets, including The New York Times.
Steve contacted us about autism and tech, but when we got to talking, it turned out he was less interested—after our conversation—about the technology angle, even though he had been a tech reporter for Wired, a leading tech magazine. He pivoted towards our family history, which was one of falling for and then battling against autism misinformation and pseudoscience.
That was what Steve wanted to focus on for NeuroTribes instead, and he actually ended up even including Leo in one of his chapters as “the boy who loved green straws,” and that story even went out on NPR Science Friday and various other outlets. He really connected with and used our family’s story to a beneficial degree, I think, and I’m grateful to him for that.
Anne: How did he interact with your family? Now, he was a journalist, but obviously, it’s also your family, so it’s a very personal space. How was that interaction?
Shannon: Steve was a very easy person to be around, which I think you’ve also experienced personally. The thing that was different about Steve, the thing that made me comfortable about letting him tell our family’s story is that he already had a deep empathy and understanding for what autistic experiences could be like. He’d been to autistic spaces and participated in autistic spaces and talked to a lot of autistic people and parents of autistic people like my son, who is mostly non-speaking and who is a high-support individual—my son does best with one-to-one support.
Steve already had that empathy coming in, which is different from a lot of other journalists. I was just kicking myself for talking to yet another journalist the other day, because they nested my experience in with a lot of other people’s experiences that were more medical model or deficit-based—when that’s not my approach at all.
Even if I tell journalists that I do not want my family covered in that way and that I do not want to be part of an autism project that takes that approach, they almost unilaterally have managed to shoehorn some pity or deficit or burden language in there. Steve listened to us. He never did that.
For Leo, it is so unusual for journalists—or for anybody in general, but for journalists specifically—to treat my son with respect and as a human being and without foisting any stereotypes on him and just treating him like the cool dude that he is. Steve always did that. It’s hard for me to trust journalists, but Steve had my complete trust.
Anne: You could feel it in the way that he—even the way that he framed the story, because every chapter, every story that you write or tell, you have to have a framing for it. It went against that other type of framing that you’re talking about, even in the title, The Boy Who Loved Green Straws. That immediately centers Leo and centers Leo’s interest and creates a sense of excitement around the interest, which is that compassion that you’re talking about, that way of also making people feel comfortable, and then the inquisitiveness, that curiosity that allowed him to go inside and really tell other people’s stories and get it right.
Shannon: Yes.
Anne: I wanted to talk about that aspect of his work with you since you’ve been such a part of his work for so many years, how his work forged a kind of understanding about autism. One of the beautiful things about NeuroTribes, I think, is how Steve observed the way that autistic people like Leo, and many others, interact with the world. I would give his book to so many people because I felt like it was almost like a translation, like dictionary at the time, right? I think for parents, too, parents who were seeking that translation to understand their children better. Do you have thoughts on that?
Shannon: Absolutely. I think that that the way that NeuroTribes approached and framed autism was unprecedented in a book that had that kind of impact. There have been people who have been writing about autism with empathy for many, many years, both autistic and non-autistic authors. I’m thinking specifically of people like Paul Collins with Not Even Wrong or Roy Richard Grinker with Unstrange Minds. Though both of those books were seminal, they didn’t have the cultural impact that I think NeuroTribes did. Both of those books were formative for a lot of people, but I don’t think anybody before Steve had really taken on autism at this scale and depth.
Again, with this just all-encompassing empathy for the way that autistic people need to be treated. I’m not meaning to diss the earlier books at all. I think that, if anything, they might’ve been ahead of their times. But NeuroTribes was a big deal book. It won the Samuel Johnson Prize in the UK, which is like the Booker Prize of science writing.
[NeuroTribes] was on a scale that I think reached an audience that hadn’t been reached before; it made people understand the humanity of autistic people in a way that hadn’t been achieved before. I could feel the difference. It’s almost like when you’re in a river and there’s a cold current and a warm current, and you can tell when you move between them. I could feel the difference in how people understood what autism meant. Of course, not everybody. There’s still plenty of silly language about autism and still plenty of medical model and burden language writing about autism going around.
NeuroTribes was pushing back against that kind of language. It also supported the neurodiversity movement, and helped set a standard for more autistic people themselves being tapped as sources for articles about autism, because of the way that NeuroTribes featured autistic experiences. More articles make sure that they are not only using burden language, more articles don’t have any patience for pseudoscience nonsense about autism and causation.
I think we can thank NeuroTribes and the groundswell that came up around it for helping to change this conversation, which really needed to happen. We still have a lot of work to do, but it was pretty important, I would say.
Anne: Definitely. That brings to mind that some people might not realize that, at the time, for example, at the time that your son was diagnosed, if you were to walk into a bookstore, there was no NeuroTribes on the shelf. There was nothing like NeuroTribes on the shelf. You would have to dive very deep into blogs and such, especially because autistic writers, generally speaking, at least in this sector, didn’t have access to publishing. There was no way for anyone to write a book like that. Steve, I think, opened the door for all the books that you’re talking about now, and all the resources that you’re talking about now, in some way, the mainstreaming of those resources was because of the impact that NeuroTribes had.
Shannon: Yes. Additionally, I would say that even when I did read books by autistic authors like Donna Williams and Temple Grandin that were available when my son was young, I had a mindset that my son didn’t really have anything in common with what would at the time be called “high functioning autistics.” Steve blew that out of the water in presenting how autistic commonalities are what autism is all about, rather than the individual ways in which autistic people present. I’d never would have really identified with the autistic authors before, not in the existing autistic-authored literature.
I think we can really thank Steve for focusing on that as well, and the thing is that when I say thanking Steve, I mean that he built NeuroTribes on the writing of, that it’s underpinned by the writing of, decades of autistic writers who had been writing about these things. Steve listened to them and boosted their voices. He would never have claimed, for instance, that this was all his doing. He would have said that he was listening to people and helping to tell their stories.
In doing so, he is helping more families like me, and I hope like your own, understand from the get-go when their child is diagnosed, what autism is about —as opposed to purely the doom and gloom medical model that we’re still fighting against in the diagnostic arenas, where a lot of diagnosticians and medical professionals don’t really have the tools to support newly diagnosed autistic people and children.
I wish that [people who diagnosis autism] would just include NeuroTribes as part of their welcome to autism packets, because I think it could help a lot of people. Of course, our lives are always going to be harder because we are under-resourced in terms of all the supports that we need, and we still have to fight so hard for those resources.
I understand the mindset that the parent of an autistic child can have, someone who comes from outside of the autistic community and only has a fearful attitude. But Steve was telling people, “This is what autistic experiences are like,” including a family like mine, in which my son needs a lot of support, but our life is a joyful one, and we love each other so much, and we’re trying to do the best we can. I think NeuroTribes helped people understand that autism doesn’t just have to be something where a parent should go in a corner and cry because their child has an autism diagnosis.
In fact, as we are learning, and as NeuroTribes both illustrates and implies in many cases, a lot of these parents themselves are autistic. They just often don’t find out about it until after their kids are diagnosed. There’s a lot of comfort to be found there, I think, in terms of people seeing themselves and seeing their family dynamics and knowing more about what to expect and knowing more about what resources to look for, instead of the mainstream ones that can often be so, not just unhelpful, but just isolating and damning.
Anne: Yes, and I think that his book brought together all of that—I think that there were really two communities operating very independently of each other, the autistic adult community and the parent community. Like you just pointed out, there’s actually a lot of parents of autistic kids who are autistic and many of whom are late diagnosed, bringing those communities together, because I think that was the other subtle translation in his book, that he brought into clearer view the challenges that families face, and the reason for those challenges, often being ableism and the way that the world is built.
His book, I think, narratively put autistic people and our families into the same story. We got to be in the same story. I think that you helped to make this happen, number one, by telling your story in the book, and also in your work through Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism, because when you go look at Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism online, or if you read the book, Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism, you find a similar way of looking at things. We’re all in this together.
There are essays by parents, there are works by autistic people, there are works by providers, that I think that was really a new type of connection that’s only been forged since the time of NeuroTribes to become a very powerful force for inclusion and human rights and disability rights for autistic people, because now we see organizations like the Alliance Against Seclusion and Restraint, and some of these other organizations that were originally parent-led, but they’re very informed by concepts of neurodiversity, and they’re very informed.
Like you said, Steve put the voices of autistic people front and center. He wrote about the Autistic Self Advocacy Network. Everyone who read his book suddenly knew who the Autistic Self Advocacy Network was, and every parent could go to ASAN, and then ASAN began developing resources for parents. It all began to build.
Shannon: Yes, I certainly would not want to claim that the work that we do at Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism, we were the only ones doing that, but I think that we wanted to do more of the work that we hadn’t seen enough of. For instance, there were writers like Kristina Chew, who was writing for Autism.org alongside Dora Raymaker. They had a wonderful back-and-forth, I think it was during the Obama administration, so for the late 2000s, early aughts. There were organizations like Ollibean, which is still around, which has always been doing similar work.
I think the thing that is different with TPGA is that we not only do the parent and autistic perspectives, but we also do a lot of work on fighting pseudoscience and also on really tracking the research. Trying to make sure that autistic people and their families and professionals have the best information possible to make sure that when they’re making decisions about their quality of life, that it’s an informed decision in as many ways as possible.
I think that all of us are always standing on somebody else’s shoulders, and I think that we’re all just trying to do the work that needs to be done in the best way that we can. I think it’s very kind of you to say that the work that we were doing was seminal, but I think it’s a continuation. I learned so much from autistic writers like Julia Bascom and Ari Ne’eman and Emily Paige Ballou and a whole slew of people who were very patient with me while I was making a shift from the mindset that I mentioned earlier, where I thought that my son wasn’t really like “those other” autistic people.
Those autistic writers really helped me understand what they had in common with my son and how much more similar they were to my son than dissimilar. I think that I really owe a debt of gratitude, and in listing the organizations and people that I have a debt to, I’m certainly probably forgetting many, but I’m just always paying it forward, right? TPGA is an exercise in paying it forward because I wouldn’t be where I am without mentors like them and then supporters like Steve.
Anne: Right. I think that Steve, first of all, first and foremost in all of his work, and not just in his work around autism, but he treats others with dignity, right?
Shannon: Yes, he does.
Anne: Then that’s like a role model for others. I think it has to do partly with his upbringing and partly with just his spirit, but because he was such a voice in the mainstream for autism, he helped to set a tone, I think, that he would defer when he got media calls, he talked about this on the episode that he was on this podcast. He would always try to defer when he got a call as an autism expert, he would deflect to try to get the person at the media to talk to an autistic person instead of him.
He was helping to create these Rolodexes in the mainstream media, where now our organizations like Autistics for Autistics and like ASAN are getting the calls from the media that we didn’t used to get. That was just another way of being able to advocate. It was a form of advocacy that he did that.
Shannon: Yes, and he didn’t have to. I think a lot of non-autistic people, including myself, have found that to be the best approach in general, because if people are talking about the autistic experience, what am I going to tell them? What is Steve going to tell them? We can tell you hearsay, but that’s not legally admissible in a court of law, at least if we’re to believe all the crime procedurals. You have to defer to the people who actually have lived experience if you’re wanting to know about lived experience.
The thing is also, we now have so many more recognized autistic professionals, wonderful people like Iris Warchall, who’s a physical therapist, and then people like Dr. Steven Kapp, who’s an autism researcher, and Jac den Houting, and all these phenomenal autistic researchers who are doing such great work. We have autistic people that we can talk to about all the aspects of autism and autistic experiences. Autistic people who weren’t tapped before, and now they get tapped. It’s phenomenal.
Anne: It really is. Steve Kapp’s team just came out with some works on autism pseudoscience actually just this week, and mouse models of autism. These are things that we as autistic people have been just critiquing and feeling extreme frustration about for a really long time. There wasn’t the platform to get the information out that autistic researchers have now.
I wanted to ask you about Steve’s legacy. We’ve been talking about it quite a lot. When you project into the next, say, five years or ten years, and you think about not only NeuroTribes but everything we’ve just been talking about, what kind of a legacy do you see for Steve’s work as a journalist?
Shannon: I see him being thought of as phenomenal ally to the autistic community. Other people would call him Papa Steve. The autistic community is, of course, not a monolith, but people loved him and he just generated such affection and respect because that is what he was giving the autistic community in return.
Anne: Allyship. That leads to my last question, which is, if someone is an ally to autistic person or the autistic community, how can allies help to continue on this legacy?
Shannon: I think that, first of all, nobody should set out to call themselves an ally. I think you can only have other people call you an ally, but if you want to behave like an ally, then you have to listen to the community that you are trying to support and you cannot get in the way. You have to be like Steve. You have to defer. You have to listen. You have to be willing to acknowledge when you make mistakes and learn from them. You have to be very clear-eyed about what your role is and what you can do. In Steve’s case, he did that beautifully by uplifting autistic people.
Especially, I’m, again, so grateful that he’s not just doing it for people who are perceived as being incredibly gifted or what would formerly be the Asperger’s model, but also showing how people who would have formerly had that label [Asperger’s] have intense difficulties in their lives and also how people like my own son, who has significant support needs, are also worthy of dignity and respect and the affection and understanding of their families, as opposed to purely viewing them the way that people expect us to, which is through a lens of being damaged or somehow less than. I’m just so grateful to Steve for helping people understand the experiences of autistic people of all trait constellations, and their families.
Anne: It wasn’t just by doing, like you said, it was by listening. I think by listening, he brought out the best in people by listening.
Shannon: He’s a wonderful listener. He’s a good talker, too, but also a good listener. And quite the gossip.
Anne: Do you have anything else that you’d like to add as we wrap up the hour?
Shannon: No, I appreciate your questions. I hope that you were able to edit this down to something useful. I still can’t believe he’s gone. It’s just so strange. I keep seeing things I want to show him or finding out things I want to tell him. I know this is a universal experience of grief and loss, but it doesn’t hurt any less every time it happens. Steve was just a particularly special beacon of a person, so it’s hard.
Anne: Thank you very much for sharing your thoughts on all of this, and it’s a comfort to everyone to be having this conversation, and we’ll continue this conversation. I also want to thank you for your time to be here today.
Shannon: It’s my pleasure. I enjoyed our conversation, and thank you.
Anne: Thanks.
We were speaking with Shannon Rosa, the editor of Thinking Person’s Guide to Autism. She spoke to us from the San Francisco Bay Area.
All good things come to an end. This is the 50th episode and the last episode of the Noncompliant podcast. I started the podcast about six years ago when there were almost no podcasts about neurodiversity. Today, there are more podcasts about neurodiversity. I think there’s still room for this podcast. I’m not saying there isn’t, but I don’t think it’s good to hold on to a show or to any project for too long. We need to keep moving and challenging ourselves, so that’s what I’m going to do.
I’d like to share for a moment about some of my new work. I have a series of three ebooks this year. The first is already available on booksbyanneking.com and booksbyanneking.ca, which is a Shopify site. The book is called ABA: The Troubled History and Legacy of Today’s Most Popular Autism Therapy. It’s readable by a general audience and it’s a history of ABA, as well as a look at new neuro-affirming alternatives to ABA. I have two more ebooks coming out in the next six months, as well as a book in print in 2025 and a chapter coming out in an anthology called From Mother to Caregiver by Demeter Press in 2025. You can also find my written work on my Substack blog entitled The Children Do Not Consent, and I have two new podcasts launching in the next several months. You can learn more about those podcasts on anneborden.ca.
On a personal closing note, I want to thank all the guests who’ve been on the show, who are doing amazing work to make change in this world. Thanks also to listeners. Most of you are doing the same type of work our guests are doing and often are unrecognized for it, whether it’s at a large organization, a small local organization, whether it’s in online groups, the classroom, or discussions, in advocacy with your own family, or sharing support, organizing activities, and supporting friends in a group of autistics.
The project of autistic rights is not powered by chic celebrities or yammering pundits. It’s made up of individuals doing the real work, the quieter work, every day. This show has highlighted some of that work, and there’s much more, of course, to be discovered and celebrated. I want to thank especially my last guest, Shannon Rosa, for speaking so eloquently about the legacy of Steve Silberman.
I met Steve in person once in January of 2020. We met up at the Reverie when I was in San Francisco. Everyone knew him there. He told me that he worked on NeuroTribes in that cafe. He was a delight to be with. It was a lunch, and the time flew by. We stood outside the cafe, and I didn’t want to say goodbye yet, but I reminded myself, and it’s so true, that everybody who met wanted a little more Steve. There was only so much Steve to go around, right?
Anyone who knew or followed Steve knew, also, he was WYSIWYG. That’s the old term. Anyone who’s in coding probably knows it. What is what you get. Steve was a man with insight and heart, and we’re going to close it all out with a few minutes from our first episode from 2019 when Steve was a guest.
Steve Silberman: I think that what we’re doing as a society is that we’re evolving from a rather primitive understanding of human normalcy, you could say, so that for much of the 20th century, psychiatrists almost acted as secular priests, helping everyone get to this saved place where they’re allegedly normal. There is no normal human brain. There’s just human brains.
It is true that some human brains have such significant challenges in dealing with a world that is not designed to support them that they need accommodations. That’s just part of life. We all need accommodations. I can’t walk up 10 flights of stairs, so there are elevators. We’ve gotten so used to accommodations for neurotypicals that they’re invisible in the world, really. That’s just the way the world is.
I think as we understand that there are all different kinds of human intelligence, all different kinds of brains, and some brains are dyslexic, and some brains are autistic, and some brains are ADHD, and that’s just the way it is. There are a lot of those people, and unless you want to ignore those people, which sentences them to leading unfulfilling and unsupported lives.
If you want everyone to be able to, A, reach their own maximum potential, but B, also make a huge contribution to society, that idea of creating a platform-agnostic society where everybody has the access to the communication tools that they need, the creative tools that they need, that that’s really what should be one of the first things on our agenda as a human society.
Anne: That’s right. Yes, if you look at the work that’s going on through AAC, it’s been going on for a long time. The technology gets there before the shift in the consciousness gets there that makes it accessible to more people.
Steve: Yes, absolutely. I think it’s interesting that sort of the moment that the computer industry became aware of issues of accessibility was very, very early on, when a guy named Ray Kurzweil, who invented some of the first music synthesizers and invented the first optical character recognition scanners, what prompted him to do it was sitting next to, I believe it was a deaf man on an airplane, and the guy said to him, “I don’t really have problems being deaf. I have problems that the world doesn’t understand what I need.” That was a huge thing.
In fact, coming out of that interaction, there was an initiative at Apple in the early days. Apple was really focused on accessibility in the early days, and I have to say that some of the early researchers who gave input into Apple’s mission in the early days strike me as undiagnosed autistics. I’ve spoken with them a lot, but one of the things that they did was to develop a keyboard that made it very, very easy, even for someone with really profound communication challenges, to communicate. They were very aware that they were unlocking a massive amount of potential by making their computing more accessible. Unfortunately, under Steve Jobs, Apple sort of drifted in that mission a bit, but Tim Cook seems to be quite focused on restoring interest in accessibility to Apple products, so hopefully, that’s a good thing.
Anne: I hope so, and I’m going to shift it over to talking a little bit about states of consciousness, because I think that’s something that you’re certainly interested in looking at. Maybe you’ve been able to conceptualize neurodiversity in the way that you have, because you’ve had some deep dives into your own operating system through meditation or other kinds of experiences.
Steve: Yes, I have to say that’s such an interesting question. I’ve never been asked that question, in dozens of interviews, and I really appreciate, because it really makes me stop and think. Yes, I think that my experience, I’m a lifelong meditator, more or less. I was taught, or I was urged to learn how to meditate, by the poet Allen Ginsberg, who was a very well-known poet, and who was one of my teachers. He very much encouraged all the students to learn how to meditate.
When I was 19, I learned how to do Zen meditation, just very simple. If you’re a Buddhist, I just do breath counting. It’s like meditation 101, but I’ve been doing it for, now, what, 50 years, something like that, almost. I can’t even exactly tell you why I do it, but I know that I feel a lot better when I do, and that it just seems to be a very healthy thing to touch the base level of where my mind is at without being distracted by every thought cloud that drifts through the sky.
One thing I noticed when I was having my first experience of being in autistic space, which was at an event called Autreat, which was designed by autistic people for autistic people, by Jim Sinclair, who was really one of the founders of the autism rights movement. I felt very calm and very grounded. I think that was because, for one thing, because it was an autistic space, everyone could do whatever they needed to regulate themselves. There were people flapping. I felt that people were not judging each other for superficial things. I’m a fat person. I’m just fat. I’ve been fat my whole life, but I didn’t feel judged for that. People were not taking each other’s measure in that neurotypical way.
There was a very funny moment when I ran into a guy who I had spoken to the night before at breakfast, and I was making conversation. I said, “Hey, Craig. How’d you sleep?” He looked at me and he said, “Why?” It was a really good question. I thought like, “Why am I making this chitchat?” We don’t need to do that.
After a few days of that, I felt just very calm and very authentic in some way. It was actually hard to emerge from autistic space and go back into neurotypical space. If you spend time in Japan, even in Tokyo, which is, of course, one of the biggest and busiest cities in the world, when you come back to America, it’s like everybody’s so loud and pushy and in your space and everything. That’s what it was coming out of Autreat. It was like, “God, be quiet. Leave me alone.”
I feel there was something about autistic space that helped everyone ground themselves. I think it’s because they were not—up till then, this was early in the process of researching NeuroTribes, I had only seen autistic people in stressful situations, like clinics, or doctors’ offices with their parents. This gave me a chance to see autistic people being themselves. It was even grounding for me as a neurotypical observer.
Anne: You’re listening to Noncompliant, a neurodiversity podcast. I’m your host, Anne Borden King. Noncompliant is recorded at MCS Studios. This episode was engineered by Lucien Lozon. Thanks to our team and thanks for listening.
