Forensic Neuropsychology Casebook

In the Preface to the Forensic Neuropsychology Casebook, Robert L. Heilbronner reveals his motivation for editing a book about the experiences of neuropsychologists in the courtroom: like most psychologists, he enjoys a good story. His enthusiasm for using the science of psychology to carve windows into others' experiences, and to get as close to the truth of their stories as possible, is shared by the other contributors to the book. But what is particularly compelling about the text is not just the cases the writers describe, but the personalities of the writers themselves that breathe through the pages and bring this medicolegal science alive.

Each chapter in the book is written by a clinical neuropsychologist, who tells the story of his or her involvement in a forensic case from start to finish. Sections present, in turn, adult civil cases, pediatric civil cases, and criminal cases. The format of the chapters is fairly consistent: the referral, the background of the case and pertinent information about the patient, a review of records (often including a discussion of the process by which those records were obtained), the interview and testing, the formation of the opinion, communication with attorneys, the deposition, the trial, and a “Lessons Learned” section. The structure was employed flexibly enough to allow the writers to bring forward what they thought were the most salient points of their cases.

However, this relatively dry listing of the component parts becomes a skeleton for the creativity and the passion for science that the writers use to add flesh and blood to both the legal and the medical. Among the chapters, we meet one neuropsychologist who writes like a poet, quotes Oscar Wilde, and bares her soul, telling readers about a case where she was not the hero of the day, and why she thinks we should know about it. Another chapter introduces us to a neuropsychologist who at first blush comes across as rather arrogant, but who ultimately betrays his sensitivity through a thoughtful analysis of a murky and complex clinical subject, pain. Paul L. Craig sends us his missive from the edge, describing his perilous trip to the Alaskan bush to examine Inupiat teenagers involved in a plane crash. Heilbronner's presentation of the cases through the eyes of the clinicians, with the clinicians themselves as characters in the stories, is reminiscent of an anthropological approach to truth; it allows for an examination of how the science of neuropsychology is applied in the real world, through the medium of human beings. This approach results in stories that are uniquely honest and illuminating.

One of the strengths of this book is its potential to appeal to a wide range of audiences. Of course, students and practitioners in neuropsychology, forensic neuropsychology, or forensic psychology in general will find nourishment in the book. More broadly, clinical psychologists, psychiatrists, clinical psychology graduate students, and even psychology undergraduates will find the in‐the‐trenches exploration of philosophical and ethics‐related issues to be thought provoking and useful. The approaches these writers take in addressing and dealing with their cases provide readers with opportunities to examine and to deepen their own understanding of the questions of ethics, role conflicts, and emotional struggles clinicians face. And, the writers frequently elegantly reference the literature that provided the basis for their decision‐making, both clinical and ethical.

Robert Heilbronner has succeeded in bringing together some of the best writers from the front lines of clinical neuropsychology to tell their stories of how they have negotiated the uneasy tension between medical and legal truth, and how they have defined themselves and their positions in the process. More importantly, perhaps, he has simultaneously provided an invitation for readers to engage in the same kind of careful self‐exploration in their own quests for truth.

• American Academy of Psychiatry and the Law