It is neither time to panic nor to throw the baby out with the bathwater in the aftermath of the Rangers’ 7-2 humbling by the Penguins in Pittsburgh on Tuesday night.

But do you know what it is time for and whom it is time for?

It is time for the Rangers to recall Tanner Glass from the AHL Wolf Pack, so he can be in the lineup for Friday night’s match at the Garden against the Wild.

That’s what.

Of the many admirable qualities of this season’s team, playing with an edge is not among them. There isn’t a single player who forces the opposition to keep its collective head up, not a single player whose presence discourages opponents from taking liberties. More than that, not a single player who believes in payback.

Four nights after no one lifted a finger in anger when the Stars’ Cody Eakin freight-trained Henrik Lundqvist behind his net in Dallas on Friday, no Ranger even thought twice about responding when Michael Grabner was kneed by Sidney Crosby midway through the second period in Pittsburgh.

And this about a month after no one interceded when Crosby jumped Ryan McDonagh and began throwing punches immediately after the Rangers captain had earned a major for boarding Conor Sheary.

Isolated, each incident can be explained away. Collectively, they are evidence of a disturbing thread that, with some exceptions, has often defined this franchise.

White-collar guys wearing Blueshirts.

The Rangers are a generally hard-working, buttoned-down team consisting of low-key, low-maintenance professionals. They go about their business admirably. But these low-key personalities have produced a collective low-key mentality on the ice. The Blueshirts continually turn the other cheek.

It is one thing to have the discipline associated with whistle-to-whistle hockey. It is another thing altogether to be passive. That is what the Rangers have become. They play with little fire. They play absent an edge.

Maybe the Rangers could thrive with the loaded lineup they presented through the first six weeks when their talent-oriented forwards were healthy. Doubtful, but maybe. But diminished on the attack as they have become while adapting to the concurrent absences of Mika Zibanejad (let’s not get carried away here, either; this isn’t quite Crosby or Conor McDavid), Pavel Buchnevich and Rick Nash, the Rangers’ more traditional top-six, bottom-six isn’t going to cut it playing politely.

Again, the Rangers have been an admirable team that has far exceeded expectations. Good on them and on the coaching staff. But, boy, this is a vanilla group, even for today’s antiseptic NHL.

Glass is not a rabble-rouser. His addition would not have the seismic impact of, say, Sean Avery’s acquisition from LA in February 2007. But at least Glass — whom I have not seen play this season in Hartford — would represent somewhat of a wild card who would most certainly respond to cheap shots made against his teammates.

Look, the Dylan McIlrath matter is long settled, but if Alain Vigneault wasn’t going to play Adam Clendening either, then McIlrath would have done just as well in the press box while willing to throw a punch or two in his one game a month.

Would Glass’ presence act as a deterrent? Realistically, probably not. Let’s face it, he was in the lineup last Feb. 18 in Toronto when Leo Komarov elbowed a defenseless McDonagh in the chin, 12 days after the captain had been concussed in Philadelphia by Wayne Simmonds, a match for which Glass was also dressed.

But the idea of promoting Glass — who ideally would step in for Marek Hrivik or Matt Puempel on the fourth line — or someone like him isn’t so much about adding a deterrent as it would be to send a message that even if the Rangers won’t hit first, they will at least hit back.

That would seem the least they could do.