How many of us have fantasized about having the ability to read people's minds? Many science fiction books have used this premise to explore human nature, in some cases with compelling results. The book Dying Inside by Robert Silverberg is a splendid example. David Selig, the main character, can read minds, but this talent has always kept him from developing meaningful social relations. In the book, Selig's gift starts to wane as he reaches middle age. And although he has never come to terms with his telepathic ability, feeling some guilt about it, he is distraught about its loss, as the prospect of leading a normal life is totally alien to him.

Although Dying Inside can be read as a metaphor on the passage of time and our own ageing, it is tempting to speculate on whether one wouldn't do better than Selig, should one be endowed with a similar gift. The truth is, however, that all of us are capable of some 'mind-reading' in a more general sense. We have an innate ability to understand other people's minds and to be aware that their desires and beliefs are different from our own. As Sarah-Jayne Blakemore and Jean Decety discuss in this issue (p. 561), we can understand other people's intentions simply by observing their actions, a skill for which the neural substrates are beginning to be discovered.

Our ability to attribute mental states to others might not seem too spectacular. Its absence, however, appears to have profound consequences. Indeed, it has been proposed that autism, a condition in which patients show profound abnormalities in social relations and communication skills, can be explained on the basis of an impairment of our 'mind-reading' capability. Does the study of the attribution of intention hold the key to understanding the emergence of social interactions in animals and humans?