Some excerpts from the long Third Circuit en banc opinion yesterday by Judge Stephanos Bibas in U.S. v. Bost (for another Third Circuit en banc case decided yesterday that reached the opposite result on different facts, see Second Amendment Rights Not Forfeited by Past Drunk Driving Conviction):

The right to keep and bear arms has limits, and this is one: Those who pose a risk of physical violence from misusing guns can be disarmed before that risk becomes a reality. Not every convict poses such a risk—but James Bost does. He pleaded guilty to terroristic threats and other crimes. Years later, police caught him with a pistol not once, but twice. So he was charged with having a gun despite his convictions, in violation of 18 U.S.C. § 922(g)(1), which makes it illegal for felons to have guns….

But Bost's violent conviction is prima facie enough to disarm him. We hold that some predicate crimes (like Bost's conviction for terroristic threats) demonstrate a prima facie risk of physical violence from misusing guns and that those convicted of such crimes may presumptively be disarmed based on those convictions alone….

In 2002, Bost carjacked someone, threatening to kill the driver unless she gave him money. To get that money, he drove to her mother's home, where she escaped from the car, screaming for help. Bost was then arrested and pleaded guilty to terroristic threats and criminal conspiracy (as well as false imprisonment and simple assault). Those first two Pennsylvania crimes are first-degree misdemeanors punishable by up to five years in prison. One element of the terroristic-threats crime required "a threat to commit any crime of violence with intent to terrorize another." Bost was sentenced to four years' probation.

Later, while on bail for another arrest, Bost failed to appear in court. U.S. Marshals tracked him down. They found him in his girlfriend's home, next to a couch with a stolen .38 caliber pistol on it. Bost was indicted federally for possessing a stolen gun and possessing a gun despite his convictions (based on the terroristic-threats and conspiracy convictions). He moved to dismiss the indictment, arguing that § 922(g)(1) [the federal bans on felons possessing guns -EV] is unconstitutional as applied to him and that it is facially unconstitutional….

The court held that the case against Bost could go forward:

The Second Amendment secures the right of "the people" to "keep and bear Arms." Since felons are part of "the people," the amendment protects what § 922(g)(1) forbids—a felon's having a gun. So the government must justify this restriction by analogizing to our nation's historical tradition of gun regulation….

Two years ago, we held § 922(g)(1) unconstitutional as applied to a man with a prior conviction for food-stamp fraud.. But we flagged a limit to our holding, stressing that the government had no evidence that Range posed a risk of violence to others or that his crime "[was] closely associated with physical danger." That aligned with the Supreme Court's later holding in Rahimi that, under a law banning such people from having guns, someone who poses "a clear threat of physical violence to another" person "may be disarmed." … So § 922(g)(1) is constitutional insofar as it disarms convicts who pose a risk of physical violence from misusing guns.

Now we ask … how may the law address a risk of violence[, focusing on] … the nature of the restriction imposed, the process used to impose it, and its duration….

Historically, there were two paths to disarming people. One was individualized: A court found someone to pose a risk of physical violence from misusing guns and disarmed him. The other was categorical: A law targeted a disloyal group that risked violence to the community. In those instances, a member of the group could often get his rights back by showing that he himself did not pose a risk of violence.

Individualized judgment was the norm. For centuries, disarmament was tied to a judge's finding that someone posed a risk of physical violence from misusing guns. Sometimes, that meant punishing risky behavior. Going-armed laws punished and disarmed those who used their weapons to menace others. Rooted in the old bans on affrays, they targeted conduct that spread fear and threatened the peace: going armed "to the Terror of the People." These laws were often enacted with bans on fighting, together targeting conduct likely to lead to violence.

Other laws, like surety laws, aimed to prevent harm before it happened. If someone credibly feared that another person posed a risk of physical violence, including by misusing his arms, he could complain to a magistrate. The magistrate would hold a hearing, weigh the evidence, and decide whether the accused was likely to breach the peace. If the risk was real, the accused had to post a bond promising to keep the peace for up to six months. If he failed to post it, he would go to jail; if he breached the peace, he would forfeit the bond. Either way, the restraint was tailored to the person's risk….

To be sure, some laws disarmed categories of people, but these examples are few, fraught, and often discriminatory. Most founding-era bans disarmed political enemies—groups thought capable of collective rebellion. These measures were tied to allegiance and often lifted once the perceived threat passed. Plus, many applied to groups that lawmakers refused to treat as part of "the people" protected by the Second Amendment, like slaves and American Indians. Both features meaningfully distinguish these historical bans from today's across-the-board ban on felons. Even so, their procedures for rearmament are instructive…. [R]earmament was not automatic. Often, the disarmed person had to make some showing that he no longer posed a risk of violence…. [This paragraph, and the section that contains it, got only 7 of the 14 total votes; Judge Tamika Montgomery-Reeves, who joined the rest of the opinion, declined to join this part because it "relies on repugnant and discriminatory laws and procedures that would very likely violate the First and Fourteenth Amendments of the U.S. Constitution…. I question whether the invidious, and likely unconstitutional, laws undergirding these rearmament procedures are valid inputs for Bruen's test. I need not answer that question, however, because less constitutionally infirm comparators support the same conclusion."]

Bost's Violent Conviction Suffices, at This Early Stage, to Show His Risk of Violence …

Some predicate crimes speak for themselves. Violent offenses, like common-law murder, forcible rape, and common-law robbery, mark a person as such. And the going-armed laws disarmed people whose conduct was threatening. These types of convictions suffice to justify disarmament. We do not require that the predicate violent or threatening crime itself involved guns or the threat of guns. Unarmed forcible rapes, for instance, can qualify.

Other predicate crimes speak for themselves in the other direction: They are not even physically dangerous, let alone violent.

There may perhaps be a third, intermediate category: Still other predicate crimes may be closer calls. Though they may not involve immediate violence, they may fuel it and pose risks to the community. Whether these predicate crimes justify disarmament depends on their own historical analogies.

So at either end of the spectrum, the predicate crime tells the court enough about the felon's risk of physical violence to decide whether to dismiss a § 922(g)(1) indictment. In the middle, it is possible that courts may have to draw more lines.

But if so, we need not draw them today. Bost was convicted of terroristic threats. The elements of that predicate crime included "a threat to commit any crime of violence with intent to terrorize another." … That conduct fits squarely within the historical tradition of disarming those who threaten violence. It echoes the core concern of the going-armed laws: conduct that terrifies others and breaches or risks breaching the peace. Bost's indictment is sufficient as a matter of law. And at this early stage, a court may dismiss only if the predicate conviction is insufficient as a matter of law to put the defendant into the category of persons who pose a risk of physical violence from misusing guns. We need not address what, if anything, could later take a defendant out of that category….

Judge Patty Schwartz wrote an opinion concurring in the judgment; so did Judge Jennifer Mascott. Judge Peter Phipps filed a dissenting opinion. All are worth reading, as is the rest of Judge Bibas's opinion.

Donovan J. Cocas, Laura S. Irwin, and Vivek Suri represent the government.

The post Second Amendment Rights Forfeited by Past Terroristic Threats Conviction appeared first on Reason Magazine.

From yesterday's Third Circuit en banc opinion in Williams v. Attorney General, written by Judge Paul Matey (and citing, among others, our own Will Baude) ((for another Third Circuit en banc case decided yesterday that reached the opposite result on different facts, see Second Amendment Rights Forfeited by Past Terroristic Threats Conviction):

The Second Amendment is a primary protection against tyranny, a strong bulwark securing American liberty, and an indispensable means of defending the public good. So courts testing restrictions on these "most sacred" and "necessary" rights must consider the history and tradition of firearm regulations with care and rigor. Edward Williams had two convictions for driving under the influence of alcohol in the early 2000s, the second of which (unbeknownst to him) triggered 18 U.S.C. § 922(g)(1), which purports to make it "unlawful" for persons convicted of "a crime punishable by imprisonment for a term exceeding one year" to possess firearms. Seeking to restore his rights, Williams filed for a declaratory judgment to confirm that § 922(g)(1), as applied to him, runs afoul of the Second Amendment.

The court ruled in Williams' favor; here are some excerpts from the long opinion:

We start [the Second Amendment inquiry] by asking the regulator whether its proposed liberty definition (or restriction, though every definition has some contracting element) is consistent with tradition. In assessing the response, we look for a custom of similar definitions.

A definition fitting within common and longstanding firearm regulation helps the regulator because long acceptance evidences noninfringement of the right. In contrast, it is likely impossible to show equivalence when the challenged restriction applies to people, places, and things that have gone unregulated for most of America's existence. Time is essential, and a recent innovation must be weighed against our "Anglo-American common-law tradition." An enduring custom since the founding is all but dispositive—one would be hard-pressed to argue that a state can prohibit the purchase of a flintlock musket. The same framework applies with respect to permissible regulations of people: if a regulation was common throughout our history, that is strong evidence that it does not infringe the right.

That is not the case here given the novelty of forever restricting all felons from possessing firearms for lawful purposes. The Federal Firearms Act of 1938 first made it "unlawful" for "any person who has been convicted of a crime of violence or is a fugutive [sic] from justice" to possess a firearm. {A "crime of violence" was defined in the Act to mean "murder, manslaughter, rape, mayhem, kidnaping, burglary, housebreaking; assault with intent to kill, commit rape, or rob; assault with a dangerous weapon, or assault with intent to commit any offense punishable by imprisonment for more than one year."}

In 1961, Congress expanded this prohibition, abandoning a focus on violence in favor of a technical bar on any person convicted of a "crime punishable by imprisonment for a term exceeding one year." By this point, "a crime punishable by imprisonment for more than one year" was the common approximation for "felony." The late entrance of a regulation tying felonies to gun possession disproves any longstanding customary contraction of the liberty codified in the Second Amendment.

 Of course, common exclusions from society—which do not explicitly touch on arms-bearing—might sometimes, but not always, reveal that a regulation of an individual is consistent with the reasoning offered by the regulator. Take classic felonies like murder and rape, long punishable by death. Those statutes evidence a regulatory custom of indirect disarmament since a "sentence of death" left the person "already dead in law" and "out of its protection." So too when those same offenses resulted in life imprisonment, life servitude, or civil death. Punishments for crimes belonging to this unbroken custom were justly predicated on the protection of the community from prospective physical danger….

But the Justice Department's apparent attempt to broaden discrete crimes justly punished by death to include all felonies, much less all crimes punishable by more than one-year imprisonment, misses the point…. [T]he modern regulatory label of felony—a crime punishable by more than one year of imprisonment—is not even close to the proper "level of generality at which to define [the] historical practice." It captures conduct that would have commonly justified exclusion, and a host of less significant acts. So simply pointing to Williams's felony because it is labeled "felony" does not do.

We must move to a more granular comparison, assessing Williams's conduct against the Justice Department's proffered analogy…. Williams's predicate offense requires that the offender 1) "drive, operate or be in actual physical control of the movement of a vehicle" 2) "after imbibing a sufficient amount of alcohol such that the alcohol concentration in the individual's blood or breath is 0.16% or higher" and 3) "ha[ve] one prior [DUI] offense." This offense plainly does not contain threatening or violent elements. So we must turn to the Government's proffered analogues to determine if they allow us to infer that the restriction imposed by Williams's continued disarmament is consistent with the right codified by the Second Amendment.

The Department of Justice analogizes this conduct to laws "disarming loyalists, underage individuals, [ ] vagrants," "common drunkards," and "habitual drunkards." But only those laws restricting drunkards bear any resemblance to Williams's conduct, so we focus our analysis there. The first two elements of Williams's offense are a variation of public intoxication laws, customarily defined as the vice of drunkenness made public. The third element sweeps in proscriptions against being a "common" or "habitual" drunkard, i.e., the analogy on which the Justice Department rests its case. Some of those laws allowed for the involuntary commitment of habitual drunkards to prisons or inebriate asylums. Others allowed courts to place habitual drunkards under guardianship.

The Justice Department acknowledges it may proscribe Williams's possession of firearms only if he "presently poses a physical danger if armed," but offers no evidence to establish this as the aim of the habitual drunkard laws. Indeed, it provides no analysis on the "why" of these laws. And that silence has since been supplemented by the Supreme Court's conclusion that these same laws did not seek "to protect the public from violence so much as to protect habitual drunkards from themselves and their families from financial devastation."

Nor does the Justice Department explain "how" the habitual drunkard laws ameliorated the threat of firearm misuse in a way relevant to the operation of § 922(g)(1). As Bruen clarifies, "if earlier generations addressed the societal problem, but did so through materially different means, that … could be evidence that a modern regulation is unconstitutional." That is the case here, and why the analogy to the permanent bar in § 922(g)(1) breaks down.

Most statutes capped the commitment of habitual drunkards to the state inebriate asylum, prison, or hard labor to a few months or years. Others provided for an indefinite period of incarceration, but had no indication that upon release individuals continued to forfeit their arms. Rather, once someone was "safe" to "go at large," they were restored to the status of a full rights-bearing citizen.

Finally, the Justice Department fails to show that Williams threatens to "misuse[ ] a gun while intoxicated," or that he "poses a danger to himself or others as a result" of alcohol abuse. In fact, much like those nineteenth-century drunkards released from custody and restored their rights, the record shows that Williams poses no present physical danger from the use of a firearm, or anything else.

He has done nothing violent, let alone dangerous, for over twenty years, and has held steady employment at the same job for over three decades. He "no longer consume[s] alcohol, save for the occasional glass of wine with dinner or champagne at home on New Year's Eve with [his] family," testimony the Justice Department has not challenged. He has submitted to an expert examination, finding he "has a normal personality, without psychopathology and without addiction or violent tendencies." And there is nothing to suggest Williams has ever wielded firearms in a manner dangerous to peaceable persons, despite a lifetime of gun ownership. Williams is presently a peaceable citizen, capable of bearing arms consistent with the design of the Second Amendment….

Our Republic, like those before it, has long understood "how base it is to pour down more liquor than one can carry," and that "drunkenness is nothing but a condition of insanity purposely assumed." Driving under that condition no doubt exacerbates the fault of the wrongdoer. Williams's criminal conviction and sentence is consistent with our tradition because acts incongruous with the virtue necessary for enjoying the rights of our political community have always justified punishment and the corresponding loss of civic privileges.

But virtuous life is a perpetual project, with redemption and reentry into the community a constant promise. And with that rehabilitation comes restoration of the civic privileges guaranteed to citizens by the Constitution, and the freedom to again exercise the natural right of armed defense against threats and tyranny. For the reasons above, we will affirm the District Court's judgment granting Williams summary judgment.

There are other interesting matters in Chief Judge Michael Chagares's partial concurrence and partial dissent, in Judge Arianna Freeman's partial concurrence and partial dissent, in Judge Patty Schwartz's dissent, and in parts of the majority opinion I ddin't quote above. (The opinions also discuss the important and interesting question of whether and when the newly revivified statutory mechanism for getting relief from firearms disabilities, 18 U.S.C. § 925(c), should preclude plaintiffs from bringing direct challenges to the disability.) Here's an excerpt from the Freeman opinion:

I part ways from the majority opinion when it says a prior conviction is disarming on its face only if it involved violence or threats. To be sure, convictions that require violence or threats are disarming; … that is consistent with our Nation's historical tradition of firearm regulation. But so are other convictions that show a person poses a credible threat to the physical safety of others.

In United States v. Rahimi, the Supreme Court upheld a different federal firearm disability because it "presume[d] … that the Second Amendment right may only be burdened once a defendant has been found to pose a credible threat to the physical safety of others." And a prior conviction can encompass such a finding even if the conviction did not require violence or threats per se.

Such is the case here. Williams was convicted of "driv[ing], operat[ing] or be[ing] in actual physical control of the movement of a vehicle" after having consumed enough alcohol to put him at "[h]ighest rate of alcohol" proscribed by Pennsylvania DUI law. And he was convicted of doing so after he previously sustained a DUI conviction.

Williams's DUI conviction establishes that he controlled a vehicle while highly intoxicated, notwithstanding the obvious risks that his conduct could severely injure or kill others. In other words, he engaged in the dangerous use of "what can be a deadly weapon: a vehicle."

Because Williams's conviction shows that he "pose[d] a credible threat to the physical safety of others," the Second Amendment does not bar Williams's disarmament, at least for some period of time.

Williams's conviction also satisfies the narrower standard our Court announces today. The majority opinion asks whether the conduct at issue presents a risk of physical danger from the misuse of firearms. But we have acknowledged that a prior conviction can evince a risk of firearm misuse even if the conviction did not involve firearms. And Williams's dangerous misuse of one potentially deadly weapon (a motor vehicle) evinces a risk that he would dangerously misuse another potentially deadly weapon: a firearm….

Joshua Prince (Prince Law Offices, P.C.) and Dillon Harris (Civil Rights Defense Firm) represent Williams.

The post Second Amendment Rights Not Forfeited by Past Drunk Driving Conviction appeared first on Reason Magazine.

Feedback from the U.S. Army has led to an improved A1 version of the service’s still very new 6.8x51mm M250 light machine gun. Manufacturer Sig Sauer has shortened and lightened the barrel, reduced the overall weight, changed the buttstock, and made various other improvements to improve reliability and ease of use. The evolution of the M250 mirrors the transformation of Sig’s M7 rifle for the U.S. Army into the M8 carbine, where weight and bulk were major points of criticism of the original design.

Jason St. John, senior director of strategic products for the Defense Strategies Group at Sig Sauer, talked about the new M250A1 with our Howard Altman at the Association of the U.S. Army’s (AUSA) main annual convention today. The U.S. Army has already been acquiring and fielding baseline M250s as part of its Next Generation Squad Weapons (NGSW) program. The NGSW family also includes the M7 rifle and now the M8 carbine from Sig, both also chambered to fire the 6.8x51mm round. The Army chose Sig as the winner of the NGSW competition in 2022. The service is still in the early stages of fielding the NGSW family as replacements for a substantial portion of its existing 5.56x45mm M4A1 carbines and M249 Squad Automatic Weapons (SAW).

“We continuously and constantly evaluate and evolve our designs, and we discover things,” St. John told us. “Parts that might be able to be manufactured a little bit easier with a little bit of a design change. They might be more reliable, more durable than you currently have. You might look at the system and say, hey, we have an ability to make these recommendations because we see this from other customers across the board. We hear it from our inputs of soldiers that are in our ranks, and you know maybe old relationships out in the field.”

“The [NGSW] program office represents the entire formation, so they get feedback in the totality of every single unit that has them [M250s and other guns in the NGSW family] in their hands,” he continued. If “a systemic issue or something that needs to be addressed, then they run the soldier touchpoint events, which we’re fortunate enough to be a part of. And then we get unfiltered feedback from soldiers that day in the field while they’re encountering something that they have a concern about.”

As noted at the start, the most immediate standout feature on the M250A1 being shown at AUSA this week is the new 13-inch barrel. M250s entering Army service now have roughly 16-inch-long barrels. The Army’s official fact sheet says the machine gun was originally expected to come with a 17.5-inch barrel.

“We shortened the barrel to 13 inches, but the Army’s also buying the 16-inch barrel,” St. John explained. “So in some ways, you could consider it mission-configurable, whether they want to utilize a 13-inch barrel or a 16-inch barrel, to what they’re doing.”

“You’re going to maintain the same basic ballistics that you had with the M7 [rifle’s] 13-inch barrel, and then you’re going to have more maneuverability because you’re going to have a shorter weapon system,” he added. “You add the 16-inch barrel, and you get that lethality requirement with the length of barrel that they originally required. So you have some flexibility there.”

“You shorten the barrel, you’re going to lose velocity,” St. John did acknowledge. “We did not change the ammo. The Army had determined with the barrel change that they were meeting their ballistic and lethality goals with that length of barrel.”

With the current 6.8x51mm ammunition, “we’re operating in the mid-70s [sic; 70,000 pounds per square inch] as far as pressure, and the case has 125K psi potential,” he also noted. “If you wanted to shorten the barrel and you did have some lethality concerns or wanted more performance, all you need to simply do is just increase the little bit more pressure in the cartridge case, and you overcome that shortness.”

“We didn’t do that. The Army said it wasn’t necessary, but you know, as the battlefield evolves and defensive postures change, if that becomes necessary, one of the great things about the NGSW program is the ability for the weapon systems and the ammunition to grow in their performance capacity,” he continued.

In the case of the 13-inch barrel, “we tapered the barrel down a little bit to add a little bit of weight savings,” he noted.

TWZ has reached out to Sig about getting more complete specifications for the M250A1, including overall length and total weight with different barrel options. The baseline version weighs some 13 pounds, empty, and without optics and other accessories, according to the Army’s fact sheet. As already mentioned, the M7 rifle also got progressively shorter and lighter before giving way fully to the M8 carbine, in part through reprofiling of the barrel. The empty weight of the M8 with its 10-inch barrel is close to one pound less than that of the 13-inch barreled M7.

Different barrels can be readily swapped out on the M250A1, as well as the baseline M250. However, the new variant features significant changes to the quick-change barrel arrangement on the gun and associated elements of the design.

“It was interchangeable before, but it didn’t have a quick-change barrel handle. It wasn’t meant to be changed, and therefore it didn’t need the insulation of [sic; for] a hot barrel like you get with a barrel with a quick-change barrel handle,” according to St. John. “I think initially with the [M]250 program, it wasn’t necessary, and potentially might not have been desired initially. And why put that weight burden on there if we weren’t going to utilize it, right?”

St. John did not elaborate further on why these features were initially deemed unnecessary.

“When you look at the top cover of the forearm, that used to be loose, and now it’s captured, meaning that when you change the barrel, it actually came off completely in your hand,” he also noted. “We utilized a similar design to our .338 MMG [Medium Machine Gun], and then we make it captured now, so you’re not going to lose it.”

“We added a funnel to guide your gas piston in, so that when you’re doing barrel change operations, you don’t have to be precisely lined up,” he added. Now, “you have something that’s going to guide it in a stressful environment, to get that into position to do your barrel change.”

The M250A1 features a host of other changes that are unrelated to the barrel.

Sig also “improved our gas system a little bit, just to make it more reliable and durable,” to include modifications to keep it better “insulated from carbon and things like that.”

“We opened up the trigger guard to incorporate the Arctic fight, the Arctic glove, more so than just the operational normal tactical gloves,” according to St. John. “We opened it up a little bit more to accomplish that.”

The Arctic is an ever-more strategic region where the U.S. faces growing geopolitical competition, especially from Russia and now China. Army officials also regularly point out that the harsh environment presents challenges when using standard equipment designed around use in more temperate locales.

“We improved the buttstock, and we improved the interface … to the receiver,” St. John explained. “We’ve made the interface between that more robust because through IMTing, and over time, and the buttstock getting slammed on the ground, and just normal military training and operations, we noticed that we had a tendency for some of them to loosen up and have some play in them.”

“The entire buttstock is a different buttstock than they had,” he added. “They [Army soldiers] preferred that buttstock over the buttstock that we had on it. So we just put soldiers’ preference on there. … It’s just a commercially available [design from] Magpul that they thought was better than the other Magpul that day one we were using.”

Changes were made to points where the M250 is designed to be attached to tripods on the ground or pintle mounts on vehicles.

“We put cross-bolts through the receiver to provide more durability,” he explained. “Initially, it was like an M-LOK type of lockup, and you can just think of a steel nut on an aluminum receiver being vibrated over a life cycle of the weapon system, it has some unfortunate wear characteristics. So, putting these cross pins redirects that force, and the way we lock it down with a saddle screw prevents that from happening and provides long-term durability to the receiver in the pintle and T&E [traverse and elevation] tripod-mounted configuration.”

The continued evolution of the M250 is not new. Sig talked to TWZ at AUSA last year about changes, including to the bipod and top cover, that were already making their way into the design.

The Army has yet to formally adopt the M250A1 configuration, and further changes could be made before service moves to officially acquire an improved version of the gun.

“This is likely to be the accepted configuration. We anticipate that acceptance,” Sig’s St. John told us. “We just finalized the acceptance on the M8, and they’re moving into the acceptance of the [M]250s. We anticipate right now, with the feedback that we’re getting from the program office, that the majority, if not all, of these changes are likely to be accepted.”

It’s important to reiterate that changes to the M7 rifle, and then the Army’s decision to transition fully to the further evolved M8 carbine, followed significant criticism of the core design of those guns and their ammunition, as well as the underlying doctrine. Sig has repeatedly pushed back on those critiques, and the Army continues to push ahead with the entire NGSW program.

Despite the steadily shortening barrels on guns in the NGSW family, the Army’s position remains that the weapons chambered for the new 6.8x51mm round offer essential additional accuracy, range, and terminal effectiveness over existing 5.56x45mm types. The genesis of the NGSW program had been heavily informed by the war in Afghanistan, where there were regular reports of U.S. ground units being outranged by their opponents. Adversary body developments were also a factor.

It is also important to point out that teething troubles are not at all uncommon in major weapon system programs, including when it comes to small arms. Sig has drawn attention to the less than positive reception that the AR-15/M16 family initially received in the mid-1960s, which led to a host of changes to that design. Rifles and carbines in that pattern are now in widespread service across the U.S. military and with dozens of armed forces and security services globally.

Regardless, even with the Army still very early on in the process of fielding the entire NGSW family of guns, the M250 light machine gun’s design is now evolving significantly.

Contact the author: joe@twz.com

The post Sig Sauer’s M250 Machine Gun Gets Shorter And Lighter After Army Feedback appeared first on TWZ.

In July 2025, a protester shot a cop outside an ICE detention facility in North Texas. The federal government alleged the incident was the result of an “antifa” terrorist plot involving a network of friends and acquaintances united in leftist beliefs. The case that ensued was chilling:

It didn’t matter that little evidence of a premeditated attack on law enforcement ever emerged. It didn’t matter that every defendant, except the actual shooter, was exonerated of the original attempted murder charges. It didn’t even matter that prosecutors struggled to show the defendants belonged to an “antifa cell.” In the end, they convinced the jury that Batten and most of her co-defendants were guilty of rioting, conspiracy, using explosives, and supporting terrorists.

In a Fort Worth courtroom in June, a right-wing judge sentenced Batten to 50 years behind bars—a stark warning to others who might challenge the president’s agenda. 

Stormy Morse lost two partners to gun suicide. She didn’t know that the second one, Lewis Tabler, had made the National Rifle Association the beneficiary of his retirement savings through its planned-giving program. In this feature, co-published with The New Yorker, Mike Spies describes what happens when the NRA, which has long denied a connection between access to guns and suicide rates, comes to collect:

Fisher, the NRA’s planned-giving director … e-mailed Applied Industrial, pointing out that Tabler had been dead for two months, and that “accounts with properly designated beneficiaries” are “generally available for distribution within 7–10 business days.” He went on, “We want to do whatever is needed to make this a smooth process.”

Meanwhile, multiple debt collectors had filed claims against Tabler’s estate, and the register of wills informed Stormy that she also owed an inheritance tax, since she was now the sole owner of the home.

As a favor, a neighbor of Stormy’s who was a lawyer spoke to the NRA’s assistant general counsel, Sarah Gervase, on her behalf. The neighbor raised the possibility that the organization might give up some of the money, according to Gervase, who recounted the exchange in an e-mail with Applied Industrial in early June. Gervase wrote that she “informed” Stormy’s neighbor that the “NRA is not willing to settle this.” Tabler’s cause of death did not seem to have any bearing on the organization’s position.