Old — and new — faces of feminism

It’s an ancient stereotype, the controlling vixen behind the scenes, but with a notable modern twist. Even without Tom at her side, Gisele would be rich and powerful, an impresario in her own right. The notion of a female mogul isn’t shocking. It’s practically routine.

Which makes it hard, for anyone who didn’t live it, to imagine how the world looked in the early 1960s, when female power was hard to come by and Gloria Steinem started fighting for women’s rights. Steinem, now 76, will speak this Thursday at the Massachusetts Conference for Women. By phone last week, she told me her younger self would have been surprised at the progress of the last 50 years.

“The idea of equality is no longer as it was in the ’60s, when it first dawned on me that the world could be different,’’ Steinem said. “Then, the equality of men and women was thought to be impossible: against nature, against God, against Freud. So now, it’s perceived as at least possible. And now, the problem is that people try to tell young women that it’s over.’’

This is the current crisis of feminism. Just as some insist that racism is dead because we elected a black president, many assume that, since we have some female senators and CEOs and Oprah, the battle for women’s rights is done. The world is full of girls who believe in equality, assume they can grow up to be whatever they want, yet don’t define themselves as feminists. Some have been cowed by talk-show hosts who turned the word into a caricature. Some prefer the term “humanist,’’ which sounds less confrontational and substantially less meaningful.

Even among avowed feminists, there are clear divides. In Harper’s in October, Susan Faludi wrote about “feminism’s ritual matricide,’’ the bitter distrust between many aging feminists and the younger generation. And leading feminists have been aflurry for two years now over whether Sarah Palin — symbol of working motherhood, opponent of abortion rights — can be welcomed into the fold.

Steinem is matter-of-fact about why young women defect from old battles. Abortion was critical to the early cause, she notes, not just because back-alley procedures were so risky, but because control over reproduction was the underpinning of every other gain. Today, young women’s assumptions have changed, and so have their priorities. They need better access to birth control, better sex education, and more generous sick and maternity leave once their families start to grow.

As for Palin, Steinem still says no entry. “Of course, you can be anti-abortion and be a feminist,’’ she said. “You just can’t tell other women what to do.’’ But her chief problem is what Palin represents: an opponent of the feminist agenda, pulled onto a national ticket for her gender alone. “If I were to sit down and try to create a female adversary, I could hardly do better,’’ Steinem said. “Couldn’t have made it up, you know?’’

Yet in some ways it could be useful to welcome Palin into the fold — to set aside the matters of toxic disagreement and champion some of the rest. She is, after all, a powerful woman with young kids and a helpful husband, and whatever you feel about hunting, her caribou-shooting expands the image of what women can be. Girls today expect to go to college, Steinem notes, but they’re largely shut out of well-paying, skilled blue-collar jobs. Female doctors are commonplace, but you’d be hard-pressed to name a female plumber.

Gisele Bundchen, too, represents a cult of beauty that’s anathema to old-school feminism. But she, too, could be a fruitful ally for the cause, if UGGs are any indication. If she can make her husband show off his feminine side, perhaps she could also make him share the child-care duties. Times have changed. Allies might have to change, too.

Correction: In Tuesdays’ column, I incorrectly named the anti-hero of “The Shield.’’ He is Vic Mackey.

Joanna Weiss can be reached at weiss@globe.com.