Naturally, Sanger also said that members of the foreign policy bureaucracy were worried that the publication of the material would convince foreign leaders, midlevel bureaucrats, and dissidents that the United States cannot protect their words offered in confidence.

There’s no arguing that point—the cables were never meant to be seen by unauthorized users, and, to say the least, they now have been. (Whether or not that means that some will be more circumspect in what they tell the U.S’s emissaries is another question, and if that were the case, its impact on national security yet another.)

But blaming WikilLeaks for exposing the fact that the U.S. cannot always keep its secrets seems bizarre. The leaker of the documents is the person who broke the rules, not the publisher. And while it’s the leaker who, under the tradition and precedent of U.S. law, would bear legal responsibility, it’s worth a moment’s thought as to the responsibility of the government for creating conditions under which such a massive trove of classified documents could be squired out so easily—perhaps on a burned CD marked up to look like a Lady Gaga mix.

Take a step back and assess what WikiLeaks has actually done, and how it differs from long accepted and protected aspects of traditional national security reporting. The simplest narrative is that the organization, having hung out a Leaks Welcome sign, obtained some classified material. Then they published it, or provided it to reporters who published stories based on it.

With that dispassionate rendering of events, it’s quite difficult to see significant legal differences between what WikiLeaks has done and what newspaper, television, and magazine reporters do all the time. To offer one example, think of when The New York Times published cables from the U.S. ambassador to Afghanistan, Karl Eikenberry, in January 2010. That diplomatic cable was more heavily classified than the vast majority obtained by WikiLeaks, but it followed a similar course. It was given to the Times by someone, and the Times published it with some minor redactions—just as WikiLeaks has so far done with the cables.

The United States has never convicted a journalist for publishing classified information—they’ve never even undertaken such a prosecution. Attempts to prosecute non-journalistic third parties for transmitting classified information that they received from government employees have been rare, too—the most prominent case, involving two pro-Israel lobbyists, was brought in 2005 by the Bush administration, and finally fell apart in 2009.

The case drew well-founded concerns that if the two were convicted, it would establish a court precedent that could create something akin to Britain’s Official Secrets Act, which does prohibit the dissemination—and not only the leaking—of some national security secrets. It could mean prohibiting a category of speech—reproducing classified documents, or perhaps even just describing their contents—by persons (journalists, other publishers) who have no official obligation to keep them secret.

The pitfalls of such a law are immediately clear: it would allow journalists to be prosecuted for reporting on classified matters. Large swaths of our government—the State Department, the military, the Department of Energy, the Department of Homeland Security—would immediately become a legal minefield for reporters seeking to give citizens as complete a picture as possible.

So far, the only indications that the government has been serious about its feints towards prosecuting WikiLeaks have been from Assange’s own lawyers, who have said that they expect his indictment under the Espionage Act is “imminent” and that they’ve heard word (through the Swedes, not directly from U.S. sources) that a grand jury has been empanelled to look at the case.

In mid-December, The New York Times reported that the government hoped to sidestep the sticky questions surrounding a charge based on the publication of classified information by instead focusing on Assange’s alleged interactions with Manning, in hopes that they crossed the line into something approaching conspiracy to leak documents.

Clint Hendler is the managing editor of Mother Jones, and a former deputy editor of CJR.