We’re looking forward to introducing you to Dr. Brian Reisenauer. Check out our conversation below.
Hi Brian, thank you so much for taking time out of your busy day to share your story, experiences and insights with our readers. Let’s jump right in with an interesting one: What are you chasing, and what would happen if you stopped?
I consider the provision of psychological services not just a career, but a moral commitment to fostering well-being and justice within society. Providing forensic evaluations has allowed me to serve society for both individuals who require help in legal matters and the community as a whole. If I were to stop following my purpose in life, I believe that not only would I be negatively affected, but the community may ultimately be negatively affected as well. These services are needed to help clarify understanding and provide aid when it is most crucial.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name is Dr. Brian Reisenauer, and I am a licensed clinical and forensic psychologist and the founder of Veritas Psychological Consulting. My practice specializes in forensic psychological services, with a focus on comprehensive psychological evaluations and expert witness testimony in both criminal and civil legal contexts. I work with attorneys, courts, and agencies to provide objective, evidence-based assessments related to competency to stand trial, violence risk, guardianship, criminal responsibility, parental fitness, and other psycho-legal issues.
What makes my practice unique is the commitment to clarity, integrity, and clinical precision in complex legal matters. Forensic psychology often exists at the intersection of law and mental health, areas where nuance matters and high-stakes decisions are made. My goal is to bring insight and clarity to these decisions through detailed assessment, sound reasoning, and clear communication, whether in written reports or courtroom testimony.
Veritas Psychological Consulting is grounded in the principle of truth-seeking—hence the name “Veritas.” We strive to offer high-quality forensic evaluations that are not only empirically supported but also culturally informed and ethically grounded. I am currently working on expanding our services, building a small team of professionals, and developing training resources for early-career psychologists interested in forensic work.
It’s a privilege to do work that helps courts reach fair and informed outcomes, while also advocating for psychological accuracy and ethical responsibility in the legal system.
Amazing, so let’s take a moment to go back in time. What breaks the bonds between people—and what restores them?
I believe a large part of what breaks bonds between people is the expectations and demands that we place on others. We expect people to behave or act a certain way, and when that does not come true, we as individuals become distressed by these acts. I believe we can restore those bonds by accepting that people are imperfect and will not always act as we expect them to. By finding that acceptance, we can find a way to overcome the flaws of others and forgive mistakes that are made.
What did suffering teach you that success never could?
Suffering has taught me the value of empathy in a way that success never could. It has shown me how complex, painful, and deeply human the journey toward healing or stability can be, especially for those who find themselves in the legal system. Where success can sometimes foster confidence or recognition, suffering demands humility, patience, and the capacity to sit with discomfort, both your own and others’.
As a forensic psychologist, I often work with individuals at some of the most difficult points in their lives, facing incarceration, mental illness, trauma, or legal uncertainty. My own experiences with adversity have sharpened my ability to listen without judgment and to understand behavior in context. It’s given me a deeper respect for resilience, and a responsibility to use my training not just to assess, but to advocate for fairness, clarity, and dignity in the system.
I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. Whom do you admire for their character, not their power?
I deeply admire Bryan Stevenson, not for his influence or accomplishments, but for his character. What stands out to me is his unwavering commitment to human dignity, especially for those whom society often deems unworthy of it. He has built a career grounded in compassion, courage, and moral clarity, advocating for justice not from a place of power, but from a profound belief in redemption and humanity.
As a forensic psychologist, I often work with individuals who are incarcerated, marginalized, or misunderstood. Stevenson’s work reminds me that no one is defined by the worst thing they’ve ever done, and that truth, mercy, and accountability can coexist. He confronts systems that are inherently dehumanizing, yet does so without losing empathy for the people within them. That balance of advocacy without cynicism is rare, and it’s what I strive to reflect in my own work.
In a profession where it’s easy to become desensitized, I look to people like Stevenson as a model of integrity, humility, and moral resilience.
Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. What do you think people will most misunderstand about your legacy?
I think people may misunderstand my legacy as being primarily about the evaluations I completed or the expert testimony I provided. But what I’ve truly tried to leave behind is something quieter: a commitment to doing difficult work with precision, honesty, and care, even when no one was watching and when the outcome didn’t earn applause.
In forensic psychology, much of what we do is invisible to the public. Reports are sealed, hearings are private, and impact is often indirect. It would be easy to assume the value of this work lies in the legal decisions it informs. But I hope my legacy isn’t measured just by outcomes, but by how I did the work; ethically, thoughtfully, and always with a respect for the humanity of the person being evaluated.
What may be misunderstood is that my work wasn’t driven by systems or accolades, but by a sense of responsibility to the truth, to the field, and to the people whose stories were often only told in a single paragraph of a legal document. My hope is that this commitment left its mark, even if it was never fully seen.




