Its new privacy policy have turned the social network inside out: millions of people have signed up because Facebook offers a sense of safety. For the last five years — as long as you're relatively careful about who you accept as your friends — what you do and say on Facebook for the most part stays on Facebook. Katie Couric's daughter first posted pictures of her famous mom dancing silly in 2006, but it took three years for them to leak to us. (Thank you tipsters!) But virtually overnight and without a clear warning, Facebook has completely reversed those user expectations. Their new privacy settings amount to making anything you post on Facebook to be public, unless you go to great lengths to keep your info private.

The most insidious part of Facebook's scheme to expose user data has been how the company framed them, claiming to want to enhance privacy. In an open letter to his 350 million+ users, CEO Mark Zuckerberg claimed he believed the old privacy framework was "no longer the best way for you to control your privacy," and that the new system would give people "even more control of their information." It would be "simpler" and finer-grained.

But when the system came out a week later, it actually gave less, not more, control over information. Gone was the ability to hide your friends list, profile pictures, fan pages and network membership from all strangers; Facebook's new, formal privacy policy explicitly made this information public (despite the ability to keep some of it, like the friends list, off your profile page).

Meanwhile, the social network is pushing users hard to share their personal content with strangers. Users are being forced to update their privacy settings, with most default choices set to "Everyone" in the world or "friends of friends."

Facebook's business rationale here is clear. Rival Silicon Valley startup Twitter has grown extremely quickly in the last few years, almost entirely on the back of public content — from celebrities, people's friends and users' professional colleagues. That has brought traffic, money from search engines and a $1 billion valuation.

Facebook wants in on that kind of growth, and more public content means more traffic. But Facebook has historically been one of the most private of the social networks, functioning as a sort of safe alcove amid the chaos of MySpace and Friendster. "Privacy is a big reason Facebook users are so loyal," BusinessWeek's Sarah Lacy wrote in 2006 (via Big Money).

So Facebook needed to give users a big shove to put its business plan into play. As startup founder Jason Calacanis puts it,

Facebook is trying to dupe hundreds of millions of users they've spent years attracting into exposing their data for Facebook's personal gain: pageviews. Yes, Facebook is tricking us into exposing all our items so that those personal items get indexed in search engines–including Facebook's–in order to drive more traffic to Facebook.

But it's not just that Facebook is tricking its users; it's betraying them. It did so when it literally communalized private friend lists that people spent years accumulating, without which their accounts would be useless. It did so when it mislead them by saying it wanted to enhance their privacy, when the real goal was growth and profit. And it continues to do so every day it does not respond to the loud fedback of its users (and the implicit feedback of its own CEO).

And people increasingly know they've been betrayed. This past weekend, journalist Dan Gillmor publicly deleted his Facebook account. Heidi Moore at Slate's Big Money temporarily deactivated her account as a "conscientious objection." And look at the big-name tech journalists weighing in on all the shock and outrage on Facebook critic Calacanis' "Wall" (click to enlarge):

Facebook has been through embarrassing privacy snafus before, like the intrusive "Beacon" advertising system, which the company eventually abandoned. But this one was so pre-meditated, so pre-processed and so condescendingly hyped and spun in advance. It's obvious that Facebook is making a calculation, one that, for users, involved a lot more subtraction than addition. Barring mass defections, the difference will drop straight to Facebook's bottom line.

UPDATE: Our other coverage:
The Facebook Privacy Settings You've Lost Forever, Dec. 16
The Valleywag Guide to Restoring Your Privacy on Facebook, Dec. 15
Facebook CEO's Private Photos Exposed by the New 'Open' Facebook, Dec. 11

(Top pic: Zuckerberg, by Josh Lowensohn)

Bloggers have to stop thinking of themselves as white-collar creatives and more like rank-and-file workers. After all—that's how they're paid!

Some bloggers get paid per-post, like pieceworkers in a 19th-century factory. Some get paid for pageviews, which is even more idiotic from a worker's perspective. It means you're not paid for your labor (except your monthly minimum) but paid instead on a sort of gamble—how well your product will perform when it's thrown into the open marketplace.

(The pros and cons of that system have been thoroughly discussed elsewhere. There are definitely flaws, but hey, at least I'm receiving money for my blogging.)

It's easy and idealistic to say, but seriously: stop writing for free. This means you, if you're one of the many Huffington Post bloggers who don't get paid. Have something to say? Write an op-ed or a letter to the editor. There are some times in a young writer's career where you have to make the decision to write for free. I've done it; you've done it. The trick is knowing when to stop.

Just about anyone can argue with my line of reasoning—"it's more complicated than that," etc., and on some level it probably is. But on the actual working-to-live level it's not. It's not more complicated than that. If you're blogging for someone other than yourself (not as a commenter, not as a personal blogger; those are labors of love and don't count) you deserve to be paid.

If you're an employee or an independent contractor or a freelancer and some entity or website is making money off your labor, you deserve to be paid. It doesn't matter how solvent the company is—they're still selling ads and making revenue.

It's not only for your own good that you should demand to be paid, either. People working for free (or for depressed wages) drive down the pay for bloggers who do get paid for their work.

Blogging for free, no matter what the circumstances, is not being a good, loyal employee. It isn't a way to hang on to your job. It isn't some sort of heroic act.

Remember, free-bloggers: someone is making money off your work and your content. It's just isn't you.

Slate's ever-griping press critic, Jack Shafer, has already made the point that the Pulitzer judging process is arbitrary. "There's no real science or even fairness behind the picking of winners and losers, with the prizes handed out according to a formula composed of one part log-rolling, two parts merit, three parts 'we owe him one,' and four parts random distribution."

And the former journalist who created HBO's Baltimore drama, The Wire, made one of the last season's villains an editor who boasted of his understanding of Pulitzer judges, because he had once been one. The Wire's semi-fictional Baltimore Sun pretended that its reporting had influenced Maryland's policies with regard to the homeless, because that would prove the impact of its reporting.

But the newspapers' Pulitzer-chasing is most damaging because it distracts newspapers from their real challenge. Rather than impress colleagues with the seriousness of their reporting, US newspapers need to engage a readership that is drifting off to television and the internet. Pulitzer-winning journalism will win Pulitzers; it won't save an industry which is experiencing double-digit annual declines in advertising revenue.

Take a look across the Atlantic. The British Press Awards are so lacking in respectability that, after a particularly rowdy show in 2005, several newspaper editors decided to boycott the awards. A shocked New York Times reporter wrote: "last night's ceremony — a mind-numbing parade of awards in 28 categories — was not a mutually respectful celebration of the British newspaper industry fuelled by camaraderie and bonhomie. It was more like a soccer match attended by a club of misanthropic inebriates."

And yet the British newspaper industry is in much more robust health. To be sure, circulations are in gradual decline. And standards of journalism are as sloppy as ever. But newspapers such as The Guardian have a much greater share of the online audience than their American counterparts. And the papers, while lacking much of the worthy reporting that wins Pulitzers, are way livelier.

The connection? The respect of peers is a luxury that US newspapers have enjoyed because, for much of the second half of the 20th century, they were local monopolies. They could afford to be respectable, because they didn't need to pander to readers. In the UK, by contrast, 12 national dailies are in vicious competition. Editors fear the loss of their jobs, not their honor.

It is not as if the New York Times and Washington Post can magically invigorate themselves by eschewing the Pulitzers. America's vastness, which mitigates against national newspapers and produces smaller local markets which can only support one title, is an unalterable fact. But, while the Washington Post and other winners may celebrate today, they should recognize a harsh truth: the same monopolies which have allowed a public-service mentality to flourish have also left newspapers unprepared for new competition. These Pulitzers are the totem poles of the newspaper industry; beloved relics of former glory.

• And right on cue: Seattle Times announces it is cutting about 200 jobs.

Rucker, a retired mathematics professor, says, "We tend to very seriously undervalue quotidian reality." He then goes on to scold the starry-eyed futurists who predict smashing up the real world to make way for a virtual world as varied and granular as the one we live in now:

I might ask why someone would passionately want to believe that we can be translated from flesh into bits? There's something ascetic and life-hating about the notion. It's a bit like a religious belief; one thinks of the old "work now, get rewarded in heaven" routine.

We know that our present-day videogames and digital movies don't fully match the richness of the real world. What's not so well known is that computer science provides strong evidence that no feasible VR can ever match nature.

This is because there are no shortcuts for nature's computations. Due to a property of the natural world that I call the "principle of natural unpredictability," fully simulating a bunch of particles for a certain period of time requires a system using about the same number of particles for about the same length of time. Naturally occurring systems don't allow for drastic shortcuts . . . Natural unpredictability means that if you build a computer sim world that's smaller than the physical world, the sim cuts corners and makes compromises, such as using bitmapped wood-grain and cartoon-style repeating backgrounds. Smallish sim worlds are doomed to be dippy Las Vegas/Disneyland/Second Life environments . . .

Come on, if you want to smoothly transform a blade of grass into some nanomachines simulating a blade of grass, then why bother pulverizing the blade of grass at all? After all, any object at all can be viewed as a quantum computation! The blade of grass already is an assemblage of nanomachines emulating a blade of grass. To the extent that you can realize an accurate VR world, the exercise becomes pointless.