In June 2010, the tech blog released redacted online conversations between the soldier and the notoriously publicity-seeking hacker Lamo. At the time, Wired claimed it was withholding "portions of the chats that discuss deeply personal information about Manning or that reveal apparently sensitive military information." But the complete chat logs reveal Lamo's outright deception of the isolated soldier who reached out to him, in part, because he had donated to WikiLeaks. And they undermine Wired's claims that they withheld information to protect Manning and the U.S. government.

"Uhm, trying to keep a low profile for now though, just a warning," Manning tells Lamo after a few dozen chat exchanges.

"I’m a journalist and a minister,'' Lamo writes back. "You can pick either, and treat this as a confession or an interview (never to be published) & enjoy a modicum of legal protection."

Over the course of several days, Manning goes on to spill details about his family dysfunction, about growing up harassed as a "girly boy," his desire to transition to a female, his isolation, and ultimately his feeding of sensitive military documents to WikiLeaks' servers.

"I'm in the desert, with a bunch of hyper-masculine trigger happy ignorant rednecks as neighbors,'' Manning lamented. "And the only safe place I seem to have is this satellite internet connection."

The complete chat paints Manning as an idealist, confused about his gender and his future -- and also wildly naive and trusting. The latter conclusion is reached after reading how eager he is to confess to a renown publicity hound who keeps dropping his own clues about his intent. Lamo digs for Manning's name, age, assignment and location.

"How old are you?,'' Lamo asks. "22,'' writes back Manning. "But I'm not a source for you… I'm talking to you as someone who needs moral and emotional fucking support."

"I told you, none of this is for print,'' Lamo responds. "I want to know who I'm supporting."

Twice now Wired has strenuously argued that it withheld the full chats out of journalistic due diligence. Kevin Poulsen, the editor who collaborated with Lamo on publicizing his role in Manning's arrest, wrote a fiery defense last December in which he dismisses criticism, particularly from Salon's Glenn Greenwald, as "murky conspiracy theory." And Evan Hansen wrote this week: "We stand by that decision and our reasoning, but we now believe that independent reporting elsewhere has tipped the scale in favor of publishing.''

But a close reading of the full chats implicate them in covering up Lamo's underhanded attempts to mislead Manning into trusting him. And though the editors claim that they sought to protect Manning's privacy as well as U.S. secrets, those are hard arguments to swallow in light of Lamo's duplicity. Poulsen, who has previously served time for hacking, gets peeved when accused of having a "relationship" with Lamo. And you can forgive him for wanting to break the news of an arrest in the biggest military leak in history. But that scoop landed in his lap because of his "relationship" with Lamo, and from a distance it's clear that his hunger for the story got in the way of his objectivity over Lamo, who has shown time and time again that he'll do anything for publicity.

"I don't know… I'm just, weird I guess,'' Manning muses at one point during the chats, then goes on to add over the next 35 minutes: "I can't separate myself from others. I feel connected to everybody… like they were distant family.

"I… care?"

Lamo's response : "I get that...which is why I’m sad for the people I sometimes have to hurt."

Elizabeth C. is a supporter of WikiLeaks.