The curious invasion of the Daves

Strange things have been happening at Yale, and the man responsible goes by the mysterious moniker "Dave." Just "Dave."

For over a week now, all across their post-industrial wonderland of a Connecticut campus, Yalies have been seeing posters with baffling Dave-related slogans. "Do you agree with Dave?" some ask. "I agree with Dave," others reply. The latter motto is also emblazoned on T-shirts worn by a small but still significant percentage of the student body. There's even a website: iagreewithdave.org.

Only one Yalie, however, has the privilege of a T-Shirt that says "I am Dave." He's a junior, and his family name happens to be Farrell. There's nothing all that special about Dave. A football player from Tennessee, Dave is double-majoring in political science and religious studies. But Dave, unlike many of us, believes that Jesus is his personal savior.

So, curiously, does Dave Parker, an undergrad at Virginia Tech. This Dave's website is iagreewith.com. And aside from a spiffy Flash animation, Parker's site is virtually identical to Farrell's, down to the long list of campus organizations (albeit from different campuses) that have signed on as "agreeing" with him. At colleges across the country, in fact, Dave after Dave is finding that many of his classmates not only agree with him on matters spiritual but are strangely determined to advertise that fact as widely as possible. It's only a matter of time before such a piously popular Dave pops up at Princeton.

While I can't say what's going on at Virginia Tech or elsewhere, my sources at Yale inform me that Dave has got New Haven's 18-22 demographic as worked up as a toddler on Red Bull. Some support Dave in his faith. Others mock him, sporting T-shirts and posting signs proclaiming their agreement with everyone from cult leader Dave Koresh to Wendy's founder Dave Thomas to (most popular of all) rapper Flava Flav. But no one can avoid his presence.

The secret formula for Dave's success contains the same 21st-century blend of 11 metaphorical herbs and spices that made "The Blair Witch Project" the box office phenom it was a few years ago. An air of mystery. A carefully orchestrated pseudo-grassroots buzz. A bunch of homemade-looking websites. I have no idea what marketing genius (or, more probably, what well-endowed national organization which can afford to hire a team of marketing geniuses) is running this thing; as a columnist rather than an investigative reporter, I'm not going to go to any effort to find out.

Nor does it really matter. With the tools available today, marketing is less a matter of genius and more a matter of technique. Enough polls and focus groups, and you can sell George W. Bush as an American hero. That, however, is precisely the problem. If subtly manipulative yet wildly effective media techniques are harmless advertising when used to sell soap or indie movies, they're morally suspect propaganda when used to elect presidents. When used to convert heathens, they're downright disturbing.

I can see the hate mail piling in my inbox already. No, I have nothing against Dave Farrell's beliefs per se. Nor do I object to Dave Parker's beliefs or those of any other faithful member of any other religious denomination for that matter. Indeed, it is precisely those who agree with these Daves who should be most concerned when religious dialogue on today's campuses gets reduced to mass marketing. We atheists/agnostics/secular-humanists/infidels are already cynical enough about religion. Commercial-like campaigns such as the one featuring "Dave" just lead us to see the joy of your faith as nothing more than a somewhat less appealing alternative to Pepsi's Joy of Cola.

College campuses can and should be places for the exchange of ideas, not the proliferation of jingles or slogans — a principle that holds as true in the religious realm as in any other. Last Friday here at Princeton, for example, my fellow grad student Elliot Ratzman engaged in a public debate with the evangelical philosopher Phil Fernandez on the existence of the Christian deity. While I doubt any minds were changed that evening, believers and non-believers alike enjoyed the all too rare opportunity to discuss their differences in an honest intellectual forum.

When it comes to the best way to treat faith in a university setting, I agree with Elliot and Phil. But I'm not about to make a T-shirt saying so. Michael Frazer is a politics graduate student from Riverdale, N.Y. He can be reached at mfrazer@princeton.edu.