As a favor to friends in my academic department, the MRC Cognition and Brain Sciences Unit in Cambridge, UK, I’ve frequently been a guinea pig in the fMRI scanner. Normally I fight valiantly against slumber as the stimuli flash on the small screen in front of me and the hypnotic, high-pitched beeps of the scanner reverberate around me. This time, though, it was very different. This time, my colleague Martin Monti was going to read my mind. As the bed I lay on robotically slid into the giant donut shape of the scanner, I had a strange sense that I was about to be mentally naked.
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