Dolly Parton’s “9 to 5” is more than just a catchy tune; it’s a cultural touchstone, a song synonymous with the daily grind and the dreams of escaping it. So, when news broke that Parton had re-recorded her iconic 1980 hit as “5 to 9” for a Squarespace commercial – a website builder aimed at “creatives” and their side hustles – it sparked a moment of collective cognitive dissonance. The original “9 To 5 Song,” a powerful anthem for the working class, was being repurposed to celebrate… working more?
For many, including myself, “9 to 5” is practically sacred. It’s a karaoke staple, belted out with gusto despite vocal limitations. It’s a song that has resonated in union halls and DSA meetings, a rallying cry disguised as a pop song. It’s undeniably one of the most impactful musical expressions of class struggle in American popular music. To see this potent message twisted into an advertisement for relentless self-employment felt jarring, to say the least.
But after the initial shock, a moment of reflection reveals a less surprising, albeit still disheartening, truth. In a capitalist system, even the most subversive art is vulnerable to commodification. A song as universally appealing as “9 to 5” was almost destined to be flipped, twisted, and repackaged to serve a new master – in this case, the relentless engine of commerce. The original message – a defiant “fuck the boss” – is subtly, but effectively, transformed into “be your own boss, and never stop working,” all in the name of selling website services and glorifying the often-precarious reality of the modern gig economy.
And perhaps, we shouldn’t be entirely surprised that Dolly Parton herself was complicit in this re-imagining of her own work. Parton has cultivated a carefully apolitical public persona throughout her illustrious career. A notable example occurred at the 2017 Emmys. Presenting an award alongside her 9 to 5 co-stars, Lily Tomlin and Jane Fonda, Parton stood visibly uncomfortable as Tomlin and Fonda directly called out Donald Trump, echoing the very insults they hurl at their boss in the film – “sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical bigot.”
More recently, Parton disclosed that she twice declined the Presidential Medal of Freedom from the Trump administration. However, this seemed less a political statement against Trump and more a consistent effort to remain outside the political fray altogether. When questioned on NBC’s Today about accepting the medal from President Biden, she remained hesitant, stating, “Now I feel like if I take it, I’ll be doing politics, so I’m not sure.” For Dolly, politics are simply “not my place.” “I’m an entertainer,” she asserts, a self-description that rings true.
Parton’s life choices largely reflect this stance. Her primary focus is music and entertainment. She’s also a savvy businesswoman, owning the Dollywood theme park, where, like any employer, she faces scrutiny regarding worker exploitation and hourly pay. Her philanthropy is also well-documented, including a significant donation towards COVID-19 vaccine research. Her rags-to-riches story, growing up “dirt-poor” in rural Tennessee before becoming a global icon and CEO (as highlighted in the Squarespace ad featuring a magazine cover proclaiming “SINGER, SONGWRITER, CEO”), further complicates the narrative.
Dolly Parton Emmys 2017
Yet, despite Parton’s personal apolitical stance, the “9 to 5 song” itself is inherently, undeniably political. It’s structured almost like a guide to workplace organizing:
Identifying Grievances:
Barely gettin’ by
It’s all takin’
And no givin’
Channeling Frustration into Action:
They just use your mind
And they never give you credit
It’s enough to drive you
Crazy if you let it
Naming the Antagonist:
Want to move ahead
But the boss won’t seem to let me
I swear sometimes that man is out to get me
Building Solidarity:
You’re in the same boat
With a lot of your friends
Waitin’ for the day
Your ship’ll come in
The film 9 to 5, for which the song served as the theme, is itself a powerful portrayal of feminist workplace activism. However, Parton, in interviews like those on Dolly Parton’s America, downplays the movie’s political motivations. She even expressed concern about how her conservative fanbase might react to her working with “Hanoi Jane” (Jane Fonda). The film’s politics are palatable to a wider audience precisely because they avoid direct partisan affiliations. This nuanced approach seems to mirror Parton’s own carefully navigated public image. She readily offers aid to fire victims, but publicly denouncing a political figure is a bridge too far.
This is perfectly acceptable. One can appreciate the political undertones of songs like “9 to 5” without requiring Parton to be a vocal political activist. Similarly, My Tennessee Mountain Home poignantly captures the realities of poverty and working-class life in Appalachia, regardless of Parton’s personal political leanings. And undeniably, Dolly Parton provides a sense of pride and belonging for millions, especially Tennesseans, often stereotyped and dismissed by mainstream culture.
Dolly Parton is an exceptional artist and businesswoman. She’s also, fundamentally, working within the entertainment industry, which necessitates mass appeal, embracing established tropes (the self-deprecating humor, the larger-than-life persona), and maintaining constant media visibility. Hence, the Squarespace commercial. Is there irony in transforming “9 to 5,” a song about working-class frustration and collective power, into an anthem for individualistic “passion” and self-exploitation? Absolutely. But the transformation of “9 to 5” reflects a broader trend: under capitalism, artistic expression is perpetually at risk of being repackaged as a consumer product.
Dolly Parton, of course, doesn’t need the income from the Squarespace jingle; she is immensely wealthy. Her motivations for re-recording the song remain speculative. However, the original “9 to 5 song,” and the 9 to 5 movie, resonated deeply because they spoke to the shared experiences of working women. The organizing efforts that inspired both were powerful, leading to significant cultural and societal shifts. Even someone as politically reticent as Dolly Parton felt compelled to write about it then.
Ultimately, the focus should shift from scrutinizing Dolly Parton’s choices to addressing the conditions that necessitate side hustles and the co-opting of protest songs. The real challenge is to cultivate an environment where a song with the line “you spend your life putting money in his wallet” could once again top the Billboard Hot 100 charts and, more importantly, fuel real-world change. The enduring appeal of the “9 to 5 song” reminds us of the persistent relevance of its message and the ongoing need for collective action against workplace exploitation.
