Ice cream mogul plans anti-sweatshop crusade
Published Friday, Aug. 17, 2001, in the San Jose Mercury News BY DION NISSENBAUM
Mercury News Sacramento Bureau
His first venture was socially responsible -- and wildly successful -- ice cream. Now he's poised to bring the world socially conscious sweatshirts.
Inspired by the anti-sweatshop movement, the progressive co-founder of Ben & Jerry's Homemade ice cream is laying the foundations in Los Angeles for the nation's first high-profile ``sweat-free'' clothing line, which could be in college bookstores as early as next year at prices only nominally higher than existing brands.
The fledgling business is Ben Cohen's most ambitious and risky venture since transforming a renovated Vermont gas station into a powerful ice cream company that devotes millions a year to progressive social causes.
``The conventional wisdom is that we have to have sweatshops because that's the only way that we can make the stuff cheap enough that people are willing to buy,'' Cohen said. ``We believe that's not true.''
Cohen, who with fellow co-founder Jerry Greenfield sold their ice cream empire last year, plans to open the factory in the epicenter of the labor debate -- Los Angeles -- where thousands of workers making less than minimum wage routinely toil for 12 hours a day cutting, sewing, packaging and shipping clothes in dark, dangerous warehouses.
It was in the Los Angeles area that federal investigators found 72 Thai immigrants working in virtual slavery, making clothes for as little as 70 cents a day. The high-profile 1995 raid helped fuel a nationwide sweatshop debate that has yet to subside.
More than 160,000 people, many of them immigrants, work in the state's clothing industry, and federal investigators say two-thirds of the operations in the Los Angeles area violate labor, health and safety laws.
As an alternative to such factories, Cohen's new plant would use state-of-the-art machinery, and workers would be paid enough to support their families, would be able to buy stock in the company and would be allowed to form unions. The company hopes eventually to hire 100 people for the operation, including former sweatshop workers.
The ``sweat-free'' concept is the biggest challenge yet for Cohen, who launched a socially conscious venture-capital firm when he and Greenfield sold Ben & Jerry's to the multinational corporation Unilever.
But success in making Cherry Garcia, Chunky Monkey and Chubby Hubby freezer staples for millions of Americans doesn't necessarily translate into success in cracking the highly competitive clothing industry.
To aid in that effort, Cohen has hired Pierre Ferrari, an executive who helped guide Coca-Cola and CARE, to lead his new investment firm.
``This is an opportunity to demonstrate that this can be done really well for workers,'' said Ferrari, who plans to invest from $500,000 to $1 million in the project. ``You don't have to go to Bangladesh, create horrendous working conditions and lock women in.''
Despite the challenges, or perhaps because of them, some observers see a fertile market.
``I'm a great believer in mission marketing and there's no better missionary marketer than Ben Cohen,'' said Peter Kinder, head of KLD & Co., a Boston-based progressive social-investment consulting firm. ``I do think there's a niche there, and one that could be very readily exploited.''
Others are skeptical.
``There would be a niche market, but I think in general, middle America doesn't really care as long as they can get clothes they like that are reasonably priced,'' said Maureen C. Carini, a clothing-industry analyst at Standard & Poor's Equity Group.
The idea was inspired by the burgeoning anti-sweatshop movement that has galvanized students from Stanford to Harvard and sparked reforms at some of the world's biggest companies.
That's where Cohen plans to start. College campuses sell an estimated $2.5 billion a year and their stores have been under student pressure to dump clothes made in sweatshops.
In early talks, Cohen said, many campus stores have been eager to enlist his factory to produce their official college clothing.
While such clothes would cost more than those made in other factories, Cohen said, it would only add about $2 to the cost of an $18 shirt.
``I can say for sure that there is a market for that kind of thing,'' said Vanessa Nisperos, a 22-year-old activist at San Jose State University and member of United Students Against Sweatshops, a group with more than 200 chapters nationwide.
Nisperos and other student activists tried unsuccessfully this year to get the campus bookstore to agree to more stringent regulations meant to ensure that its clothes aren't made in sweatshops.
Court Warren, director of the Spartan Bookstore, said the business already has strong anti-sweatshop guidelines and expressed skepticism.
``If we are promoting merchandise that is labeled `sweat-free,' that suggests that the merchandise sitting next to it is non-`sweat-free' and I wouldn't be involved in that,'' Warren said. ``Everything we have in the store is `sweat-free.' ''
Even if San Jose State does not join in, Cohen said he expects others to take part. Ultimately, Cohen said he wants the Los Angeles factory to become a successful model for others to follow.
``If all that happens is that we're successful and others don't follow suit,'' he said, ``that's not going to create much social change.''