This perception was once so pervasive, and the officers were feeling so beleaguered, that two years ago the T.S.A. changed their uniform shirts to blue from white, and issued gold badges to replace their badge-shaped patches. The agency also began an internal campaign called I.G.Y.B.  for “I’ve Got Your Back.”

For government benefits and a salary that starts at $12.85 an hour, these unarmed officers swallow the irritation of others, apply security methods that intensify by the day, stifle the awkwardness they might have about touching other people  oh, and be on alert for bombs, liquid containers holding more than 3.4 ounces, sharp objects, explosive ingredients and the next Abdulmutallab.

“I want them to think Abdulmutallab with every pat-down,” Mr. Burdette said.

He walked down an airport corridor, past a shoeshine booth and a Dunkin’ Donuts, to the security checkpoint at Concourse A, where these extraordinary times continued to make their rude intrusion upon the day’s ordinary rhythms: shoes off; empty pockets; raise hands. It is the surrender of certain dignity in the quest for increased security.

The many people in line, grim-faced but uncomplaining, were met first by Jennifer Adams, 33, who assessed each traveler with a smile and a subtlety that suggested she was merely an official greeter. She joined the T.S.A. eight years ago, after earning a college degree in communications management, and has risen to become a supervisory behavior detection officer.

What does that mean?

“I’m entrusted to report here and protect the homeland,” she said.

“Give a real answer,” Mr. Burdette advised.

“I look for anomalies in the behaviors of the flying public,” Ms. Adams said. A coat too heavy for the season. Averted eyes when asked about carry-on luggage. “Anything that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up,” she said.