A senior TSA official told staff that American airports could close if the federal government shutdown dragged on. Not might experience delays. Not could see longer lines. Close.
That warning, delivered during internal communications as the partial government shutdown loomed in early 2025, laid bare a vulnerability most travelers never think about: the entire U.S. commercial aviation system depends on federal workers showing up to jobs where paychecks aren’t guaranteed. According to Business Insider, the TSA official’s remarks underscored just how fragile the staffing situation had become, with transportation security officers — who earn a median salary of roughly $47,000 a year — expected to keep screening passengers without pay during any funding lapse.
The warning wasn’t hypothetical bluster. It was grounded in recent history. During the 35-day government shutdown in 2018-2019, TSA callout rates spiked to more than 10% at some airports, compared with a normal rate of about 3%. Checkpoints at some smaller airports were temporarily closed. At larger hubs like Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson, wait times ballooned. And that was before the post-pandemic staffing crunch made the workforce even thinner.
A Workforce Already on the Edge
Understanding why the shutdown threat carried such weight requires understanding the economics of being a TSA officer. These are federal employees, yes, but they’re among the lowest-paid in the government. Many work second jobs. Many live paycheck to paycheck. When Congress fails to pass appropriations bills and the government shuts down, TSA officers are classified as “excepted” employees — meaning they’re required to report to work but won’t receive pay until funding is restored.
That’s a brutal ask.
During previous shutdowns, some officers simply couldn’t afford to show up. Gas money, childcare costs, rent — these don’t pause because Congress can’t agree on a spending bill. The TSA official’s warning about potential airport closures, as reported by Business Insider, reflected a mathematical reality: if enough screeners don’t come to work, there aren’t enough qualified bodies to staff checkpoints, and airports can’t legally allow passengers through security without them.
The Federal Aviation Administration faces its own parallel crisis during shutdowns. Air traffic controllers, like TSA officers, are excepted employees who must work without pay. But the FAA also loses its non-excepted workforce — the safety inspectors, the engineers reviewing systems, the administrators processing certifications. During the 2018-2019 shutdown, the FAA halted new aircraft certifications, delayed safety reviews, and saw some contract tower operations threatened.
So the shutdown doesn’t just hit the checkpoint. It hits the entire chain.
Airlines have historically been cautious about publicly criticizing Congress during shutdown fights, but behind closed doors, industry executives have been far more blunt. Every day of a shutdown costs the aviation industry millions in disrupted operations, reduced bookings, and reputational damage. Airlines for America, the industry trade group, has repeatedly called on lawmakers to ensure stable funding for aviation security and air traffic control regardless of broader budget disputes.
Recent reporting from multiple outlets has tracked the ongoing budget battles in Washington with growing alarm from the transportation sector. The specter of another shutdown has resurfaced multiple times in 2025 as Congress struggled with spending bills and debt ceiling negotiations. Each time, the same questions emerged: How long before TSA callout rates spike? How long before airports start closing checkpoints? How long before the system breaks?
The Ripple Effects Beyond the Terminal
What makes the airport closure threat so potent isn’t just the direct impact on travelers — it’s the cascading economic damage. U.S. airports handle roughly 2.5 million passengers daily. Those passengers are business travelers closing deals, tourists spending money in destination cities, cargo shipments moving through belly holds of passenger aircraft. Shut that down, even partially, and the economic shock waves spread fast.
Hotels lose bookings. Rental car companies lose revenue. Convention centers lose events. Restaurant workers near airports lose shifts. The International Air Transport Association has estimated that aviation supports over 10 million jobs in the United States when you include direct, indirect, and induced employment. A meaningful disruption to airport operations doesn’t stay contained at the terminal.
And then there’s the security dimension that rarely gets discussed publicly. A shutdown that degrades TSA screening capability doesn’t just inconvenience travelers — it creates potential vulnerabilities. Fewer screeners means either longer lines (which themselves become soft targets) or reduced screening thoroughness. Neither outcome is acceptable from a security standpoint. Former TSA Administrator David Pekoske acknowledged during previous shutdown threats that maintaining security standards with a depleted workforce was an enormous challenge.
The irony is thick. The agency created after September 11 to ensure aviation security gets undermined not by terrorists but by congressional budget dysfunction.
Some lawmakers have pushed for legislation that would exempt TSA and FAA employees from future shutdowns entirely, guaranteeing their pay regardless of broader appropriations lapses. These proposals have attracted bipartisan support in theory but have repeatedly stalled in practice, caught up in the same political dynamics that cause shutdowns in the first place. The argument for carving out aviation workers is straightforward: national security and economic stability shouldn’t be bargaining chips. The argument against is equally political: exempting popular agencies reduces the pressure on Congress to reach broader deals.
For TSA officers on the ground, the policy debates are abstract. What’s concrete is the anxiety of not knowing whether next month’s rent check will clear. What’s concrete is showing up at 4 a.m. to screen passengers who are frustrated about wait times, knowing you’re doing it for free. What’s concrete is the quiet calculation every officer makes: How many days can I work without pay before I have to find another job?
The TSA has struggled with retention for years, and shutdown threats make the problem worse. Officers who leave during or after a shutdown often don’t come back. Training replacements takes months. The workforce gets younger and less experienced with each cycle of attrition, which has its own implications for screening quality and airport efficiency.
But here’s what the TSA official’s blunt warning really signaled: the agency itself recognizes that the system has limits. There is a breaking point. It isn’t theoretical. During the 2018-2019 shutdown, the country got close to it. A longer shutdown, or one that hit during peak travel season, could push past it. As Business Insider reported, the official’s comments were a candid acknowledgment that airport closures weren’t a scare tactic — they were a contingency being actively discussed.
The traveling public tends to take airport operations for granted. You show up, you go through security, you get on your plane. The machinery behind that experience — the thousands of federal employees, the complex scheduling systems, the coordination between TSA, FAA, Customs and Border Protection, and airport authorities — is invisible until it breaks. And government shutdowns are precisely the kind of stress test that reveals how much of that machinery runs on the goodwill of underpaid workers who are expected to sacrifice for a system that doesn’t always sacrifice for them.
Congress will face more funding deadlines. More shutdown threats will come. And each time, the same TSA officers will face the same impossible choice: show up and work for free, or stay home and risk their careers. The question isn’t whether the system can survive another shutdown. It’s whether we’ll keep asking it to.
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