After Yu left abruptly, CEO Mark Zuckerberg trotted out the tired time-with-family cliché to explain his departure. But in the case of Facebook VP Chamath Palihapitiya, the cliché seems to be literally true, and the departure temporary. Sort of. Palihapitiya, a former AOL executive who now heads Facebook's growth initiatives, has said he plans to leave the company altogether, but was persuaded to take a four-month paternity leave instead.

A less likely rumor we've heard: That COO Sheryl Sandberg has been issuing ultimatums, that either she goes or Zuckerberg. That doesn't square with Sandberg's style. She's an experienced Washington operative and former Google executive who always works behind the scenes to get what she wants. But she does have ties to Facebook investors, including venture-capital firm Accel Partners and Elevation Partners' Marc Bodnick, who happens to be her brother-in-law. Could she quietly be spreading the word that it's time for Zuckerberg to go? And if Zuckerberg gets wind of her efforts, could her time be up?

It's not clear why Yu is leaving now. He raised nearly $500 million for the company, and was looking for more. But a few things are known: Zuckerberg has repeatedly said that the company's focus is on growth rather than making money. He has made a habit of quickly cycling through executives. Former Facebook COO Owen Van Natta, who left after an apparent demotion, is a notable example.

The question is who's next? Jonathan Heiliger, a dotcom-era Internet wunderkind now in charge of Facebook's vast technical infrastructure, has long been said to be restive. COO Sheryl Sandberg, the Google veteran splashily hired last year, might be called to account if Facebook's sales don't catch up with its user growth. As the door to Facebook's executive suite keeps swinging, it seems like only a matter of time before people start asking questions about the prickly, isolated 24-year-old at the top.

In 2007, Facebook was the hot startup where everyone wanted to work, able to steal engineers away from the then-golden Google. Now, in 2009, it's become a company of close to 1,000 employees where more and more, people are eyeing the exits, wondering how they can escape the tyrannical whims of 24-year-old CEO Mark Zuckerberg and his tormented lieutenants. Netanel "Net" Jacobsson is just the latest to make his way out the door.

And he won't be the last: We hear that Charlie Cheever, a Facebook developer who's in Zuckerberg's inner circle, is also planning to leave soon.

Jacobsson was a director of business development at Facebook. Was, as confirmed by his bio on Twitter ("Fmr. Facebook director") and a message on the microblogging service.
Facebook PR is said to be eager to hush up Jacobsson's departure, following a series of exits over the last half-year of vital behind-the-scenes players: the loss of Facebook cofounder Dustin Moskovitz; the contentious firing of platform director Ben Ling; and the deeply hushed-up departure of top designer Katie Geminder, who, it's rumored, was ill-treated by Zuckerberg himself. Moskovitz has a startup, Ling has returned to Google, and Geminder, now works for another Facebook refugee, former COO Owen Van Natta, at his Project Playlist startup.

We hear that Jacobsson's nemesis was his boss, VP Dan Rose, who's already famous for his ill treatment of another underling, Tim Kendall. Our tipster reports:

Lots of wrangling with Dan Rose. The story is very ugly. Dan said lots of inappropriate things to Net and has treated him very poorly, much worse than what he said to Kendall.

Net sent mail to folks today letting people know that he's leaving. Facebook is trying to keep it hush hush given the long series of departures. Wouldn't be surprised if Facebook tries to spin it.

Can't believe the number of enemies Facebook is making!

The problem for Facebook: Like a freshly signed-up user, Facebook is in desperate need of friends. It is constantly redesigning its service in an effort to find some lucrative new way of placing ads in its users' streams of pokes, photos, and Wall posts. And to make friends with businesses, it needs plugged-in glad-handers like Jacobsson.

And it's not like Zuckerberg is doing much to lighten the mood. We hear he threatened to fire his current COO, Sheryl Sandberg, in an argument about the controversial recent revision of Facebook's terms of service. He has a habit of running through confidantes quickly, which may explain Cheever's plans to leave.

It's the ultimate irony of Facebook: The company that aspires to connect the entire world can't keep a handful of key executives linked together.

'Twas always thus. Twitter was never really a company; it was a feature invented at another forgotten startup, spun off into its own venture. The programmer who came up with the idea for Twitter, Jack Dorsey, was named CEO, while Twitter's better-known backer, Ev Williams, a Webhead who struck it rich by selling Blogger to Google five years ago, dithered about how much he wanted to be involved.

Despite Williams' seeming indifference, Twitter took off — so much so that a crush of new users strained its servers, to the point that the service became famous for its technical incompetence. (The "fail whale," a cheery cetacean icon displayed when Twitter's website was unavailable, now appears on T-shirts in San Francisco and Brooklyn.)

In its business affairs, too, Twitter is proving incompetent. Most Web 2.0 startups run cheaply, but Twitter faces large bills from cell-phone companies which charge it for forwarding text messages to cell phones; the more it grows, the more it pays. And it has yet to announce publicly a way to make money.

That's not to say it doesn't have a scheme. The latest one we've heard floated: Twitter would charge companies to have verified Twitter feeds, so users would know that a message from, say, ExxonMobil really came from the oil company. (It's not as hypothetical as it sounds; a Twitter user inexplicably impersonated ExxonMobil this summer.) Verified accounts might then pay Twitter for every message they send, and also get prominent listing in a Twitter directory.

If that sounds like utter nonsense, the fever-dream imaginings of a desperate business-development executive high on whiteboard-marker fumes, that's because it is.

With no real hope of making money on its own, Twitter's best hope is a buyout. But its executives have handled that poorly, too. Dorsey botched talks with Yahoo and then Facebook; he didn't even tell his own board of directors he was talking to Facebook about a proposed $500 million acquisition. After that, he was fired as CEO and replaced by Williams, but stayed on as chairman, a nominal job which doesn't require his presence at the Twitter office. One prominent Silicon Valley investor is fuming that Dorsey is still on the payroll at all.

This Mickey Mouse operation is the future of news? That's not the most frightening prospect. Even if Twitter were competently run and profitable, the end result is an unreadable jumble. Look closely at the coverage, if you can call it that, of the Mumbai attacks on Twitter. Sitting at their desks in the U.S., most people had nothing to add except to observe that Mumbai used to be called Bombay — the kind of message that makes you wish Twitter's length limit was zero characters, not 140.

As more users join, the Twitter feed becomes filled with more and more noise; repetitive retweetings, back-scratching praise, and self-congratulation. A set of amateurs celebrating each other not for the quality or insight of their reporting, but its brevity, swiftness, and modish form of delivery. You read it here on first. Unless you heard about it on Twitter.

As much fun as Hart seemed to be having at Facebook, there's a long list of reasonable reasons for Hart to leave: She already made money by joining Google before its IPO. She's shortening her commute by taking a job with the San Francisco Giants. She doesn't want to keep working from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. But I am skeptical. Why not stay a year and vest a first round of stock options? I can't help wondering if the timing of Hart has something to do with the election — and the opportunities a Democratic administration has opened up for former D.C. power player Sandberg to return to Washington.

That's why, for days before it was announced, top executives at Facebook desperately hid technical lead Dustin Moskovitz's plans to leave. They dithered as Mark Zuckerberg tried to persuade his cofounder and college roommate to stay, and others, led by COO Sheryl Sandberg, concocted a plan to spin his departure. That spin has now been dutifully printed in the pages of the Wall Street Journal: Facebook's changes are the "type of evolution you see among young growing companies and specifically young growing companies in Silicon Valley," company flack Larry Yu told the paper.

Sandberg, who closely directs the company's PR, would have us think that the uproar that has taken place at the social network since her arrival is a healthy evolution. It is not. The internal politicking she has introduced to the company is destructive, and has sent many of the company's best and brightest fleeing. The list of the departed includes data guru Jeff Hammerbacher, product VP Matt Cohler, platform director Ben Ling, and most recently, Justin Rosenstein, a top engineer who's leaving with Moskovitz. Operations VP Jonathan Heiliger may be next. The defections all hurt. But most of the blame lies with Zuckerberg himself.

Zuckerberg has always styled himself as the company's "founder," relegating the likes of Moskovitz and Chris Hughes, now Barack Obama's Web campaign director, to "cofounder" status. Never mind that this distinction doesn't exist in English; those who start a company are all equally founders.

Zuckerberg clearly considers himself first among equals; he once referred to Moskovitz as "disposable" and a "soldier." The former Harvard roommates patched over those insults, and Zuckerberg said he will rely on Moskovitz's counsel even after his departure.

If Moskovitz really thought he could guide Facebook's evolution, he would have stayed at the company, right? Zuckerberg has a history of churning through confidants. Napster cofounder Sean Parker helped establish Facebook in Silicon Valley as its president, only to be disappeared from the company. Former COO Owen Van Natta was in favor, then out. Sandberg had his ear for a while, but may be losing it. Lately, I hear he favors Christopher Cox, the twentysomething recent Stanford grad he recently tapped as the company's director of product. We'll see how long he stays by Zuckerberg's side.

This fickleness may be predictable from a 24-year-old. But it's fundamentally bad for the company. Yahoo thrived, in its early days, on the partnership between CEO Tim Koogle and founders Jerry Yang and Dave Filo. Google's triumvirate of its cofounders and CEO Eric Schmidt improved on that management form; the troika lends the company some stability by making sure decisions at the top are never unilateral.

Zuckerberg's insistence on the "founder" title suggests that he always planned to rule the company alone. It's a bad plan. His instincts on what kind of website will attract a 100 million users have been spot-on. But he has no business sense. At one point during the Facebook redesign process, he suggested getting rid of advertising altogether, having grown disillusioned with both old-style banner ads and the company's experiments with targeting ads to users' behavior.

Will Zuck ever find an equal partner, a sounding board who can help him turn Facebook into the large, ongoing concern he envisions? Dustin Moskovitz may not have been the right person. Nor, it seems, is Sheryl Sandberg.

Yet to staunch the bleeding of Facebook's technical talent, Zuckerberg will have to find someone to ground him — someone for whom he has enduring respect, who can moderate his worst impulses. Without it, there will be one word describing what's going to happen to Facebook: "founder."

Every time Zuckerberg skips town, bad things happen at Facebook. Is it because he doesn't want to be seen as the bad guy as his former comrades in arms leave the company? We're not saying Facebook employees should worry every time they see the boss surfing Expedia. But we are wondering if this isn't a trend.

Tip to the Z-Man: don't go overboard at Oktoberfest.

(Photo by cpthook)

Heiliger previously worked for Andreessen at Opsware. One would think the chrome-domed entrepreneur, now chairman of Ning, would prove a powerful ally in the fierce political battles that have roiled Facebook since the appointment of Sheryl Sandberg, a Beltway insider turned Internet executive, as COO. Nothing's certain, and Heiliger may well stay. But for him to be so unhappy as to openly entertain job offers? The social network's executive suite seems to be coming unplugged.

At various times in our progress, people have come up to me to deliver a now familiar question: "did you ever imagine Facebook would be this big?" And I give a familiar answer: "well... yea, actually". Frankly, Mark and I knew even at the beginning this was something the world needed. We went into the college market as a stepping stone - identifying dense nests in the graph that would lead us to the rest of the world. We could see far enough in the future to know there would be an impact, we just didn't know exactly what it would be. Now I can look back on our progress and see the ways the world has changed, the ways we have changed it. We've altered the future in a score of ways, from making it easier to look up phone numbers and email addresses to making it more difficult for terrorists to isolate impressionistic youth in the middle east. At the same time we've built a competent and vibrant organization, driven by a passion to push the world more open.

In the process of helping to build a company, I found I had another passion: making companies themselves run better. It's easy to confuse this with a desire to manage, but even when I tried to do that I found myself drawn back to code for the solutions to my problems; I didn't want to construct efficiencies, I wanted to engineer them. Communication is the key to scale in any size organization and technology is the key to communication. I've seen us unblock ourselves time and again with new tools to increase transparency and passive information flow and many times it was the fruit of my own labors. While working on improving Facebook's tools, however, I came to a very difficult conclusion: doing this for all the companies of the world was not the same project as doing it for one of them. This idea is one that needs an organization that was built to do it, with every fiber of its DNA engineered in a way that producing an extensible enterprise platform becomes little more than the logical consequence of an organism executing its own nature. Further, the things we've scoped for Facebook's product team to do are the right things to be doing and I wouldn't have agreed with asking the company to divert significant resources to approach a project so different and so boundless in scope. Every time we introduce something new, we do it at an opportunity cost and this is too large a detour to take when we are already moving swiftly in the right direction.

And Facebook is moving in the right direction. When Facebook has a billion members (and 800 employees? maybe 900?) and someone leans over to ask me if I ever imagined it would get that big, my answer is going to be "you're damn right I did. how come it only has 20% of the market?". To know that this is Facebook's future and decide not be a part of it is the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but it's allowed me to have a broader perspective for the future. Like you, I've worried about the people leaving the company but it took becoming one of them to understand that this is just another part of the ecosystem (you should just take my word for it though). I'm not leaving the movement - I'm becoming a new part of it. The inevitable flux of the men and women behind these organizations is what moves the industry forward in the same direction in a way that cross-company collaboration alone never will. As the world moves to modular stacks and applications built up from a smorgasbord of platforms instead of single toolkits, then the companies that build the parts will need to act more and more like cooperative teams in a single larger organization. As Justin would undoubtedly say, I am simply viewing the industry from a different level of abstraction. These changes are difficult and sad, and that's certainly an understatement for me... but change brings new things and this particular change will bring a new ally to our mission - I think we can all be pretty pumped about that.

Whether I work here or not, I'll forever bleed Facebook blue. Facebook has been my passion and my purpose for the past 5 years. Our new project is not a replacement for what we build here, but instead both a complement and a compliment, and we have every intention of making it feel like a natural extension of Facebook's product and purpose. Similarly, my timing in leaving is not an indication that I have lost faith in our ability to succeed, but an affirmation in my confidence in the company's enduring success irrespective of changing faces.

Justin and I going to be around for at least another month and I am really looking forward to going deeper on this idea with everyone and how we can continue to work closely with Facebook. I'll always be really proud of the work we've done and grateful for the opportunity to work with such a uniquely remarkable team. We'll also be at the Q&A later to help continue the conversation right away.

Dustin

A couple of months ago, after three years as a Google product manager, I decided to leave for Facebook. I am writing this note to spread Good News to all the friends I haven't already overwhelmed with my enthusiasm: Facebook really is That company.
Which company? That one. That company that shows up once in a very long while — the Google of yesterday, the Microsoft of long ago. That company where large numbers of stunningly-brilliant people congregate and feed off each other's genius. That company that's doing with 60 engineers what teams of 600 can't pull off. That company that's on the cusp of Changing The World, that's still small enough where each employee has a huge impact on the organization, where you think about working now and again, and where you know you'll kick yourself in three years if you don't jump on the bandwagon now, even after someone had told you that it was rolling toward the promised land. That company where everyone seems to be having the time of their life.

I'm serious. I have drunk from the kool-aid, and it is delicious. Facebook is hiring ambitiously across the organization. If you're an engineer, UI designer, product manager, statistician, bizdev god, general entrepreneurial badass, whatever, and you would even consider considering Facebook as your new place for hat-hanging, please send me a Facebook message. We can have lunch, or I can give you a tour, or we can go kick it with Mark Zuckerberg — whatever it takes.

So Sandberg asked Ling to lie. The fib she demanded: That he was taking a two-month vacation, not returning to Google. In exchange, she'd let him vest his shares in Facebook — a small fortune for less than a year's work. Ling, it seems, declined. His integrity was worth more than whatever Sandberg had to offer.

Technically, Facebook doesn't owe Ling anything. His shares wouldn't vest until he reached his one-year anniversary. But the reality is that Sandberg, by promoting Schrage above Ling, effectively squeezed him out. And Silicon Valley companies often let departing employees keep some of their shares, even if they've been at a company under one year, to keep good relations (and sometimes, buy silence). Facebook has routinely accelerated departing executives' vesting, a maneuver which lets them keep more shares than the calendar would say they've earned.

Sandberg's high-pressure tactic was a foolish overreach. She was trying to manage perceptions, and combat the idea that her version of Facebook is an inhospitable place for brilliant technical talent like Ling.

Instead, she's created an even worse perception — no, rather, a reality. Joining Facebook, always a chancy venture, is more dangerous than ever. Those who take a job there now bear the risk that the manipulations of a power-grasping executive will make all their work worthless. (Poor Mike Schroepfer, who just joined the company as VP of engineering; did he have any idea what he was getting himself into?)

There's another perception that now exists, as a result of Sandberg's actions: That the COO herself is a glib liar, who expects those around her to glibly lie, too. Less than a month on the job, she had underlings fibbing to Fortune for a puff-piece profile.

It seems obvious in retrospect that the paeans that executives like Matt Cohler and Adam D'Angelo offered on the way out must have been fictional, too, bought by Sandberg with Facebook shares. Sandberg's explanation, tossed off with Clintonian brio: "There is no specific underlying story behind the few execs leaving our company." The key word in that sentence is "underlying," minus the "under."

Silicon Valley's corps of engineers have little tolerance for dishonesty. The implicit bargain they strike with the MBAs who turn their work into money: Keep the lies over on your side. Lie to investors, partners, reporters; just don't lie to us. There's no room for lies in the world of code; software works, or it doesn't. That may be a Pollyannaish belief, but it's a common one in the idealism-choked cubicle farms which sprawl along 101.

Sandberg, with her clumsy cajoling, has broken the pact. She tried to turn one of the geeks into a smiling fake, just like her. He didn't bite. One would think that with Sandberg's political training, she'd at least bring the talents of a skilled prevaricator to the Valley. Instead, the Ling affair has revealed her as the worst of both worlds: a clumsy liar.

Palihapitiya, like Ling, has not fared well under the reign of COO Sheryl Sandberg and her right-hand man, Elliot Schrage. Schrage, as a reward for the puff pieces Sandberg's continued to garner from a mostly pliant press corps, has gotten handed most of Facebook's marketing functions. Palihapitiya has been left with a vague "growth" portfolio.

How frustrating this must be for Palihapitiya, who once complained on film about white-male privilege. His employer at the time, the Mayfield Fund, hastened to clarify that his comments were about the world at large, not meritocratic Silicon Valley. But Elliot Schrage, with his two Harvard degrees, is a creature of New York and Washington, D.C., not the Valley. And he has blocked Palihapitiya's rise at Facebook, despite the latter's vastly more impressive tech résumé. Will Palihapitya rest and vest his Facebook shares in silence? Or will he leave, like Ling?

It all comes down to Windows — and Windows Live, Microsoft's attempt to extend its monopoly operating system online. The basic strategy of combining the Windows operating system with Microsoft's online-media division, which created Johnson's job, was flawed. The skills involved in coding an operating system and creating websites and selling ads are fundamentally different; mastering them all would be beyond any executive's reach. Johnson was a talented executive, most agree, and his departure is a loss to Microsoft. But succeeding at his job would require focus, and a smaller ambit to his assignments. He needed to have a bigger job; and Microsoft needed someone with a smaller job.

The reorganization following his departure leaves things in a muddle. Windows will still be tied with some online services, under the "Windows Live" rubric; other online operations will be in a separate division. But what goes where? Hotmail, for example, was recently rebranded as a Windows Live product; but it's hard to see Microsoft's online operation giving up such a reliable traffic generator to the Windows group.

In Johnson's wake, expect more infighting, more reorganizations, more mass rebranding campaigns — everything, that is, except the kind of purposeful progress Microsoft desperately needs to compete with Google.

Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg strikes us as more concerned with her personal PR than with the boring but important operational problems she was hired to solve. Yahoo president Sue Decker can be as Machiavellian as any guy, but her boneheaded reorgs are responsible for much of the company's current straits. Greene was one of the few women leaders in the Valley who seemed worthy of out-and-out admiration. That she was ousted by a jealous man makes the absence of her equals all the more glaring.

Cofounder Chris Hughes left a while ago to work on Barack Obama's presidential campaign. Another cofounder, Dustin Moskovitz, has been rumored to be on the outs with Zuckerberg, though Moskovitz attributes any disputes to normal friction between founders. And now D'Angelo — though not a founder, one of the small group who helped Facebook relocate from Zuckerberg's dorm room to Palo Alto — is gone, too. He may be leaving for his own reasons, but his departure is a sign that the company is fitfully growing up.

It has nothing to do with Eric's philandering. It has everything to do with the fact that Elliot sucks and is being run out of the company. No idea he has held on so long considering how ineffective he has been. From the inside I can affirm his team hates him. The other executives see him as impotent, reckless, and self-promoting.