DMB's Crash into Politics

At first glance, when the Dave Matthews Band upped its political ante by taking part in a high-profile Capitol Hill press conference on global warming last week, the successful musicians were doing what celebrities do best: getting involved in political causes. Instead, the episode illustrates the sad state of celebrity activism, where politicians like Senator Jim Jeffords (I-Vt.) and entrepreneurs like ice cream makers Ben and Jerry manipulate celebrities like Dave Matthews Band for political and economic ends. And to make matters worse, the celebrities don't seem to mind.

During the press conference, Dave Matthews Band unveiled the One Sweet Whirled initiative, a hybrid business/political activism venture wherein consumers save the environment by cutting their annual carbon-dioxide output by five percent and eating ice cream.

Matthews and his four bandmates have long been associated with activism. The band's debut in 1991 took place at an Earth Day concert held in Charlottesville, Va.; activists from Greenpeace and Planned Parenthood find a welcome home at football stadiums nationwide whenever DMB tours the country to sold-out venues; Willie Nelson's Farm Aid Charity recently gave Matthews a seat on its board.

Until last week, however, one could not describe Matthews' activism as partisan. True, DMB performed at Bill Clinton's second inauguration in 1997, but that appearance was apparently at the request of Chelsea and is thus exempt from any political considerations. Now Dave and Co. welcome the "independent" (read: shill for Democrats) Jim Jeffords with open arms, prompting the question, why?

There is some musical affinity between the two parties; before his defection from the GOP in May 2001, Jeffords was a member of the Singing Senators, along with Trent Lott and John Ashcroft. So no doubt Jim sings along to songs like "The Space Between" while in the shower. And there is also considerable publicity value in seeing Dave Matthews teamed with Jim Jeffords, whose My Declaration of Independence is quite popular on DMB-saturated college campuses.

And many of Matthews' songs are about apocalyptic concerns: in "When the World Ends," the singer-songwriter croons about smoking up with his sweetheart as the Revelation unfolds below them; in "Two Step," a rumbling bass underscores foreboding lyrics and an injunction to carpe diem. Thus it is not much of a stretch to go from discussing the End Times in song to wringing one's hands over the melting--and freezing, according to the New York Times--Antarctic ice cap.

The answer to our question, however, is a political one. Ben and Jerry base their economic powerhouse of an ice cream company in the state of Vermont, which Jeffords represents in the Senate. Jeffords, who never met a dairy subsidy he didn't like, no doubt sees the political value in increasing the market share of Vermont products and making symbolic gestures of his "concern" about global warming. The press conference might have also provided Jeffords with an opportunity to snidely criticize the administration over its pull out from the Kyoto accords.

Seen in this light, Matthews' presence at the event, and subsequent involvement in the campaign, is little more than window dressing. Few question the sentiment that drives celebrities to enter the political arena. Instead, what an artist says about his particular cause celebre is subject to scrutiny. And in this regard, Matthews doesn't make much sense.

It seems like a winning strategy. Consumers express concern for the environment while eating ice cream, Dave Matthews Band wins publicity, and Ben and Jerry reap profits from said ice cream that they then contribute to Senator Jeffords' re-election campaign.

At the same time, celebrity involvement in public policy means style over substance, and not the serious consideration of costs versus benefits American politics so desperately needs.

Upon visiting the One Sweet Whirled website, for instance, one finds the unsightly statistic that 25 percent of the world's annual output of carbon dioxide come from the United States. This is true; but the website neglects to mention the United States is also responsible for 25 percent of the world's economic output, which would explain those seemingly contemptible figures. In fact, the entire project is more than a little quixotic: the website enjoins One Sweet Whirled consumers to cut down their annual carbon dioxide output by 2,000 pounds, but the organization's own website claims that 160 billion pounds of carbon dioxide enter the atmosphere every 24 hours. This means it would take 80 million people saving 2,000 pounds of carbon dioxide a day to negate current output.

If that is the case, then why sell ice cream in the first place? After all, making one pint of Chunky Monkey releases untold gobs of greenhouse gases into the atmosphere. Environmentalists might say every little bit helps, but when the problem of carbon dioxide emissions is so great, is that really the case? One Sweet Whirled is more about political opportunism for Jeffords and making a quick buck for reformed hippies like Ben and Jerry than seriously changing America's environmental policy. Maybe Matthews, a high school dropout, should leave politics alone and get back to doing what he does best: making people laugh, cry, and dance with his beautiful music.

Matt Continetti is a Columbia College junior majoring in history.