Attorney Mark W. Smith, speaking on The Four Boxes Diner, says the “Overton window” for nationwide concealed carry just cracked open a little wider, and he points to an unusual catalyst: three federal judges publicly backing a form of nationwide carry in a major op-ed.
Smith tells viewers the piece ran in The Wall Street Journal and was authored by Judge Elizabeth Branch of the 11th Circuit, Judge Robert Wilkins of the D.C. Circuit, and Judge Trevor McFadden of the U.S. District Court in D.C.
Smith’s emphasis is that these aren’t obscure names floating around in a niche gun forum – they’re prominent jurists, and in his view that matters because judges “seldom endorse legislation,” yet these judges did exactly that.
Smith frames the op-ed as “massive breaking news” not because it instantly creates nationwide reciprocity for everyone, but because it signals something deeper: people who live inside the legal system are openly admitting that the current patchwork of carry laws is confusing, risky, and – when you zoom out – hard to square with the idea of a constitutional right that’s supposed to travel with you.
What The Judges Say They Want And Why
Smith explains that Branch, Wilkins, and McFadden are supporting a proposal from Sen. Tom Cotton of Arkansas.
Smith names it directly as the Protect Our Prosecutors and Judges Act, and he describes its basic function: it would allow federal judges and prosecutors, who have completed law-enforcement firearms training in their home jurisdictions, to carry concealed across state lines.
Smith quotes the judges’ framing as security-driven. He says they cite Chief Justice John Roberts, who in an annual report warned about an “alarming rise in attacks on judges,” and they note that threats to judges have “more than tripled” over the past decade.
Smith adds that they referenced major events that shook the judiciary, including the foiled assassination attempt on a Supreme Court justice – which Smith identifies as Justice Brett Kavanaugh – and the notorious case where a bullet meant for a federal judge instead killed her son.
The judges, as Smith recounts it, connect that climate of threats to the realities of judicial travel. Smith says they argue federal judges are frequently on the move for work: appellate judges “ride the circuit,” judges sit by designation as visiting judges, and many travel to conferences, bar association events, universities, and moot courts.
Smith doesn’t dispute that travel angle. He says they’re essentially arguing: we’re often in unfamiliar places, our schedules can be publicized ahead of time, and away from home we may not have the same immediate access to protection like local law enforcement contacts or federal marshals.
Then comes the key line Smith highlights: because concealed carry laws vary dramatically by state, even judges who can carry at home often cannot carry when they travel, and that mismatch leaves them vulnerable.
He stresses that the judges’ argument also includes a practical complaint gun owners know well: carry laws are “often complex,” and when you’re traveling it’s easy to make a mistake, so many people simply leave their firearm behind rather than risk stumbling into a felony.
Smith’s point is that the judges are describing the same legal minefield ordinary citizens navigate – only now the judiciary is saying it out loud, in public, in a major outlet.
The Overton Window Argument Smith Keeps Coming Back To
Smith makes a strategic case for why gun-rights advocates should care, even if the bill isn’t broad reciprocity for everyone. He says this kind of limited carve-out can still change the “normal” assumptions around concealed carry in elite legal and political spaces.
He compares it to other incremental shifts he’s seen in his lifetime. Smith says that when he was growing up, only Vermont had permitless carry, and now he claims there are 29 states with permitless carry, potentially 30 once another state (he mentions North Carolina) “gets squared away.”
His larger point is that cultural and legal change often arrives one step at a time, and he believes this proposal could be another step that nudges the country toward broader recognition of carry rights.
Smith also makes a tactical argument aimed right at future litigation. He says if judges and prosecutors get nationwide carry privileges, it becomes easier later to argue to Justices like Amy Coney Barrett, John Roberts, and Brett Kavanaugh that it’s irrational to create a system where government insiders can carry everywhere but ordinary law-abiding citizens cannot.
In plain terms, Smith is arguing that special treatment for judges could become a political and legal boomerang: once the judiciary experiences nationwide carry as normal and uneventful, it becomes harder to justify denying that same normalcy to everyone else.
That’s a provocative claim, and it’s the kind of realpolitik argument that makes some people nod and others bristle. But it’s a coherent strategy: normalize carry among decision-makers, then use that normalization as proof that carry isn’t some exotic danger that must be tightly rationed.
The “Two Tiers” Problem And Why Smith Still Leans Yes
Smith doesn’t pretend there’s no downside. He brings up the obvious objection: creating what he calls a “two tiers” system, where judges, prosecutors, and law enforcement become “special” and the public remains stuck under a maze of restrictions.
He describes the critique in blunt terms – one class gets treated as more important, while everyone else gets treated like the subjects who can be regulated, delayed, and denied. Smith says he doesn’t like that structure and doesn’t support two tiers as a matter of principle.
But he ultimately comes down in favor of the judges’ proposal anyway, and he explains why: he thinks it creates incentives for more judges and prosecutors to learn about firearms, carry them, and develop real-world familiarity – experience that, in his view, could make them harder to manipulate later with gun-control talking points.
This is where Smith gets personal and frankly a bit biting. He says many modern judges come from “elite circles” that give them little to no exposure to firearms. He sketches what he sees as a common pipeline: elite prep schools, elite universities, elite law schools, elite clerkships, and then a career that stays inside professional class environments where guns are treated as foreign objects.
Smith argues that even if some of these judges are sympathetic to the Second Amendment “abstractly,” they lack practical understanding – making it easier, he says, for anti-gun lawyers to confuse courts with hyperbole, category errors, and fear narratives, like muddling semi-auto vs. full auto or suggesting a holstered firearm is inherently chaotic.
His point is simple: familiarity kills superstition. If judges carry a gun and discover that nothing magical happens – nothing “jumps out” of a holster, nothing spirals into danger by default – they may become less receptive to arguments built on panic and ignorance.
Whether you agree with his tone or not, it’s an argument about human psychology as much as constitutional law: decision-makers who have lived experience are less likely to be fooled by cartoon versions of reality.
Smith’s Broader Critique Of Today’s Judiciary
Smith then zooms out and uses this moment to revisit a theme he clearly cares about: the declining “real world” experience of many judges.
He tells a story from his early legal career at Skadden, Arps, Slate, Meagher & Flom, describing how he used to review the “red book” biographies of judges.
In his telling, older generations of judges often had backgrounds that included military service, private-sector leadership, or wide exposure to ordinary human problems and high-stakes decision-making outside government.
Smith contrasts that with what he sees today: judges whose careers are dominated by government roles – school to government job to government job, then a judgeship, which he calls another government job.
He says the issue isn’t intelligence, but life experience, and he claims judging can be “inferior in many respects” when a court lacks contact with the real private world where most people live.
He then ties that back to guns. His message is that courts function better when judges have practical experience, and firearms are one more category where lived reality matters, especially when courts are asked to rule on what is “reasonable,” what is “dangerous,” or what a right actually means on the ground.
He even points to a judge he admires as an example, mentioning Judge Lawrence VanDyke of the Ninth Circuit as someone who can’t be easily “scared” by exaggerations because he has hands-on familiarity.
Why This Could Still Matter To Regular People
Smith’s most interesting point might not be the bill itself, but what he thinks it triggers next.
He notes that the proposal, as he describes it, focuses on judges and prosecutors when they travel, not their families. Smith suggests that once judges experience the freedom of carrying across state lines, they may start asking why their spouses and adult children should face the same old patchwork risk.
That’s not a legal argument so much as a political one: privileges tend to expand once the privileged group feels the inconvenience personally. In other words, a narrow exemption can create pressure for broader reform, because the people who benefit from the exemption start noticing how arbitrary the broader restriction really is.
From a practical standpoint, this also highlights something gun owners complain about constantly: you can cross a border and go from “totally legal” to “serious felony” without doing anything that feels meaningfully different.
Smith is betting that once more judges feel that whiplash in their own travel routines, the appetite for nationwide reciprocity becomes less theoretical.
The Strange Irony At The Center Of It All
There’s an irony sitting in the middle of Smith’s whole segment, and he knows it.
Judges are endorsing a carry fix because carry laws are too confusing and the threats are too real. That’s basically an admission that the system is broken enough that even top legal minds don’t want to rely on it when their own safety is on the line.
If a right is fundamental, it’s hard to defend the idea that it shrinks when you drive to the next state. Smith explicitly makes that comparison, arguing you don’t have to “re-earn” your First Amendment rights or your Fourth Amendment protections every time you travel, so why should the Second Amendment be treated like a conditional privilege?
Of course, the counterpoint is the one Smith acknowledges: if the fix only applies to judges and prosecutors, it still leaves the broader public stuck under the same inconsistent map.
That’s why people react to proposals like this with mixed emotions – relief that someone influential is finally noticing the problem, and frustration that the solution starts at the top instead of applying evenly.
Smith’s bet is that this moment is still useful. He sees it as cultural momentum, a crack in the old assumptions, and an opportunity to push the argument that rights should not stop at state lines – especially a right that, by its nature, is tied to personal safety in unpredictable places.
And if nothing else, Smith is right about one thing: when federal judges publicly start talking like ordinary travelers who don’t want to get trapped by a legal patchwork, the national conversation has already shifted, whether lawmakers want to admit it or not.
Gary’s love for adventure and preparedness stems from his background as a former Army medic. Having served in remote locations around the world, he knows the importance of being ready for any situation, whether in the wilderness or urban environments. Gary’s practical medical expertise blends with his passion for outdoor survival, making him an expert in both emergency medical care and rugged, off-the-grid living. He writes to equip readers with the skills needed to stay safe and resilient in any scenario.
