I binged on Michael Jackson music videos for awhile immediately following his death in June.

Styling myself an alternative rock and hip hop fan long ago, I swore off Jackson in my early teens; but now I’m back—death has a way of doing that—and I want it all. I crave the hopeful expectation of pop glory that powers “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough.” I need the gaunt, washed-out swiveling of “In the Closet.” Hell, I even sat through that bizarre silhouetted dance sequence in “The Way You Make Me Feel.”

But I miss Jackson most when watching videos for do-gooder anthems like “We Are the World” and “Man in the Mirror.” In today’s fragmented and snarky world, it’s doubtful any entertainer would attempt to reach that many people—and actually try to change the world—with an earnestly-worded song decrying a global ill. Who would be so bold these days to put out a song like “Heal the World” and not get pegged as a pretty-faced naïf? Instead, for example, we get the sober, once-removed “Waiting on the World to Change” by John Mayer (who I think is a great musician nonetheless).

In many respects, Jackson, who co-wrote “We Are the World” with Lionel Richie, was merely in the right place at the right time. With events like Live Aid and Farm Aid and songs like “Sun City,” the mid-80s were a high water mark for mass attention to cause célèbres. But “We Are The World” became the enduring symbol that’s been parodied ever since, from The Simpsons’ “We’re Sending Our Love Down The Well” to Jimmy Kimmel’s “I’m F*cking Ben Affleck.”

Looking back, you can see why the song has the makings of a great running joke. The video brought together stars from all across the celebrity spectrum, putting Willie Nelson next to Cyndi Lauper and Dionne Warwick next to Bob Dylan. Bizarre juxtapositions like that will never happen again—unless it’s on a VH1 celebreality show.

Maybe it’s for the best that we’ll never get another “We Are the World.” The vision of clueless pop stars inserting themselves into the latest pet crisis is well-worn. And the result is often no more than a gauzy, feelgood affirmation of our own ability to write a check.

Perhaps socially conscious sing-alongs are no longer necessary as other pop icons go past the easy photo-op for substantive results, such as Bono’s successful push several years ago on debt forgiveness for the world’s poorest countries.

Or maybe it’s not even fair to expect the same ambitious, idealistic scope from artists. After all, those pre-Internet days gave wider platforms to artists and America’s image abroad as the good guys in the Cold War lent extra moral authority to their causes. But part of me still misses that ambitious, optimistic, their-heart’s-in-the-right-place feeling all the same.

I’m not suggesting Michael Jackson was some bedazzled social justice crusader; he’ll be remembered as the King of Pop, not policy. But it seemed like he could pull off that call to attention in a way that current artists can’t in our diffuse, cynical times—even though I wish they’d still try once and a while.