How a Typo in Federal Law Let Americans Legally Own Cannons (And Nobody Stopped Them)
How a Typo in Federal Law Let Americans Legally Own Cannons (And Nobody Stopped Them)
Somewhere in the labyrinth of federal firearms regulations, buried in a subsection of a subsection, is a legislative oversight so specific and so bizarre that it has allowed American citizens to legally own, operate, and fire actual cannons for decades. Not decorative cannons. Not museum pieces. Real, functional artillery pieces capable of firing projectiles.
The government knows this. The government has known this for years. And the government has essentially done nothing about it.
How the Loophole Was Born
The story begins in 1934, with the National Firearms Act—landmark legislation passed during the Great Depression to regulate automatic weapons, sawed-off shotguns, and other weapons of concern to law enforcement.
The Act created a category called "destructive devices," which included grenades, mines, bombs, and other weapons designed to cause mass destruction. The definition was meant to be comprehensive, covering any weapon that didn't fit into other categories but was clearly too dangerous for civilian ownership.
But the legislation had a problem: it was written in 1934, by people trying to anticipate every possible weapon that might exist. They defined destructive devices, but they didn't account for one specific thing: how to define a cannon.
A cannon, technically, is an artillery piece. But a muzzle-loading cannon—the kind that fires lead balls or grapeshot—is not actually more powerful than many rifles. It's slow to load, slow to fire, and requires a lot of space. It's actually less lethal than modern firearms in almost every practical way.
So when the legislation was written, muzzle-loading cannons fell into a weird gap. They weren't rifles. They weren't handguns. They weren't automatic weapons. They weren't legally defined as "destructive devices" because the original legislation didn't specifically mention them, and subsequent updates to firearms law kept using the same vague language.
By accident, muzzle-loading cannons—functional, operational, fire-breathing artillery pieces—became legal for civilian ownership under federal law.
The Discovery
For decades, this loophole existed in near-complete obscurity. A handful of historical reenactors, Revolutionary War enthusiasts, and eccentric collectors knew about it, but it wasn't until the 1980s and 1990s that the loophole started getting real attention.
That's when people started actually buying cannons.
At first, it was just hobbyists. Then it was collectors. Then it was people who just really, really wanted to own a cannon because they could. And because there was no federal registration requirement for muzzle-loading cannons, no background check, and essentially no oversight whatsoever, the government didn't even know how many were in circulation.
The ATF (Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives) became aware of the loophole but was essentially powerless to close it without new legislation. And new legislation required Congress to act. Congress, naturally, had no interest in holding hearings about whether Americans should be allowed to own cannons.
The Cases That Made It Real
What really brought the loophole into the light were the bizarre incidents that followed.
In the 1990s, a man in rural Pennsylvania decided to fire his muzzle-loading cannon in his backyard. The blast was so loud that neighbors called the police. When officers arrived, they had to inform the neighbors that, no, there was actually nothing illegal happening here. The man had every right to own and operate a functional cannon on his property.
Local law enforcement was baffled. They couldn't charge him with anything. There was no noise ordinance that covered cannon fire. There was no federal regulation he'd violated. He'd simply exercised a right that technically existed in the law, even though nobody in 1934 had intended it to.
Another case involved a man in Florida who owned multiple cannons and regularly fired them at a private range. The range received complaints. Local authorities investigated. And again, they found: no law broken. The federal government allowed it. The state allowed it. There was nothing they could do.
There's even a documented case of a man who built a functional cannon out of spare parts in his garage, tested it in the woods, and when questioned by authorities, simply showed them the relevant federal statute. No charges were filed.
The ATF has issued guidance on the matter, essentially saying: "Yes, people can own muzzle-loading cannons. No, we can't stop them. Yes, we know this is weird."
Why It Still Exists
You might think that Congress would have fixed this by now. You'd be wrong.
The loophole still exists because fixing it would require legislation, and legislation requires someone to care enough to write it. Cannon ownership is so rare and so niche that it's never become a political priority. The people who own cannons are generally responsible hobbyists and historical enthusiasts. There haven't been any mass casualties from cannon ownership. There haven't been any high-profile incidents that would make Congress sit up and take notice.
So the loophole persists. In the United States, you can legally own a functional cannon if it's muzzle-loading. You don't need a license. You don't need a permit. You don't need to register it. You just need to own the cannon.
The ATF knows about it. Congress knows about it. State governments know about it. And everyone has collectively decided that fixing this particular oversight is less important than, well, almost everything else.
The Lesson
What the cannon loophole reveals is something genuinely strange about American law: it's not always written to anticipate reality. Sometimes it's written to address specific problems, and sometimes those problems change, or weren't anticipated correctly. And sometimes, when you write laws carefully and specifically, you accidentally create gaps.
In 1934, no one was worried about civilians owning cannons. Cannons were obsolete. They were historical curiosities. No one thought to explicitly ban them because no one thought anyone would want to own one.
But people did want to own them. And the law, read literally and carefully, allowed it.
So today, somewhere in America, someone probably owns a cannon. They own it legally. They may have fired it. And the federal government is essentially okay with that, because fixing it would require admitting that their law was weirdly written, and that's apparently not worth the effort.