User generated content seems to be a pendulum-swing against the 1980s and ‘90s-style elitism that had all aspects of the media, including the web, tucked away in the firm grasp of a small, skilled group. Now, the opposite is true: In no other public way can the regular folks you see promoting themselves on Bebo or dishing out digg have their views so widely circulated. If MySpace’s initial success was partly due to the number of celebrities that Tom et al managed to sign up, its continued popularity resides elsewhere. Out there in the tar-pit of suburbia, anyone can feel as famous as Dave Navarro and the boys from Korn, who can also both be listed as their “friends.”

Success, however, is a dangerous thing. Facebook found out how their incredibly popular enterprise, fueled by its nine million-plus members, is at the mercy of public opinion when the site launched a feature last week that amounted to a stalking-made-even-easier tool. If networking sites aren’t a voyeur’s dream already, Facebook’s “News Feed” was jello shots at an AA meeting. On logging in to their Facebook account, users were greeted Tuesday with a play-by-play of their friends’ actions on the site. And a great number of people hated it.

Ironically, users utilized some of Facebook’s own templates and tools to revolt against the feature that they disliked. Groups and blogs sprang up “petitioning” founder Mark Zuckerberg to get rid of the news feed. People cited many reasons for hating the feed, including the fact that it could limit the number of pages users click through, thus limiting the advertising they are exposed to and ripping advertisers off. Tails somewhat between their legs, Zuckerberg and his team built in some privacy features that allow Facebook users to hide and delete their actions from the feed; however, the feed itself remains.

Facebook’s attempt to save face in the wake of the News Feed outrage.

One wonders whether the decision to keep the bothersome feature is a sign that Facebook’s success has gone to its head and its developers are forgetting about the college kids who made the site a web heavy-weight. After all, if nine million people suddenly decide that they don’t like the direction the site is going and quit logging on, companies such as DISH Network, Netflix, Verizon, and the Bank of America will stop advertising there. And Facebook should remember that.

My point here is that the user generated content covenant has users and website developers meeting each other half way. Mark Zuckerberg doesn’t operate Facebook out of the goodness of his heart or because he likes students to have another procrastination tool aside from Snood. Zuckerberg provides nine million people with a sense of fame, and nine million people provide Zuckerberg with an enterprise that is now worth either millions or billions of dollars, depending on who’s doing the estimating. Zuckerberg also harnessed revenue from his users by offering them advertising opportunities of their own. For a mere five bucks a day, dead-broke college kids can fuel the Facebook fortune by buying 10,000 Facebook Flyers, promoting anything they like. You thought University Receivables ripped you off during college? Multiply nine million and five, and watch Harvard-drop-out Mark Zuckerberg’s bank account get fatter. Users provide the advertising potential, and website developers provide a medium for anyone to have that potential grow a bit bigger.

While Facebook feeds the voyeur and the show off, sites that specialize in letting users voice an opinion are appealing in the same way as the editorial page of the newspaper. And, like Facebook, sites like Gabbr let people see a part of their virtual selves online; however, the motives behind reviewing a book on Amazon and commenting on Webshots pictures are vastly different. The main difference between an opinion page and an opinion site is the financial impact online opinions tend to have. The web offers an immediate result: A particularly complementary or popular digg could see sales for a glorified kegerator skyrocket, mainly due to the ease with which users can follow links and tap out credit card information.

However, the personal result of ending up on the letters page of the Seattle P-I and posting a comment online can feel very similar. Your opinion’s in print, people are probably (hopefully!) reading it, and you’ve experienced at least a little of what it’s like to be Al Franken. Or, if you must, Sean Hannity. Minus the name recognition, the book contracts and the network shows, is there really much difference between their opinions and yours? Now that everyone can be in print, there’s not much difference at all.