Powerful breasts

According to a couple of articles I read this week, bare breasts are the new symbol of feminist power. A twenty-something woman debated an older feminist in a piece in Glamour, the young woman claiming pride in her cleavage so great that she flaunts it at the office (with the older woman responding with a touch of horror), while a young woman walking the gauntlet at a recent Jets' half-time in Giants stadium answered affirmatively to the request to expose herself, telling a journalist afterward that why not?, since she's proud of her body. Read more. Both statements seemed to note an achievement, an accomplishment, that gave them both power and pride.

But since when is it an accomplishment to get a man to look at your breasts? I thought feminism and "girl power" were all about getting men to see us women in a way they hadn't considered us before -- smart, ambitious, capable -- in a way that equals them. By exposing our breasts to anyone who wants to look, we're giving men an image they love to see but are gaining no credibility in their sight.

Sadly I understand the logic. When the bared bodies of Britney Spears and every woman on Dancing with the Stars are front and center in our daily popular entertainment, when news anchors bulging breasts adorn every cable channel morning program, when Hillary Clinton is seen as choosing her blouses for their deep cut, minimizing one's coverage might seem like a great platform for power.

But what power are we gaining? To make money and get attention, or make decisions and get to run the operation? I know which goal I prefer, the same one that women are still a long way from achieving.