Texas lawmakers just inked a new chapter in their pro‑Second Amendment manifesto. In late May 2025, the Legislature passed House Bill 3053 (also reported as SB 3053), headed by Rep. Wes Virdell (R-Brady) in the House and championed in the Senate by Sen. Bob Hall (R-Edgewood). The bill prohibits all cities and counties from spending taxpayer dollars on gun buyback programs — those gift‑card-and-anonymity events police and municipalities often stage to entice people to unload unwanted firearms. That’s right: no more H‑E‑B (a Texas-based chain of grocery stores) cards for old revolvers, no Shaquille O’Neal–sponsored sheriff’s giveaways, nada — unless locals foot the bill out of their own pockets.
Gov. Greg Abbott, true to form, signed the bill, and the law takes effect September 1, 2025.
Why HB 3053 Was Filed
Rep. Virdell has been brutally candid: “Watching cities host these events and knowing that gun buybacks don’t reduce crime or suicides motivated me”.
He introduced HB 3053, framing it as a principled stand against wasting public funds and implicitly against shaming gun ownership under the banner of “public safety.”
On the Senate side, Sen. Bob Hall decried buybacks as a taxpayer-funded Trojan Horse aimed at civilian disarmament. He said local governments were being muzzled by blue‑city delta waves masked as “crime reduction”.
Together, they sold the idea to the GOP-controlled House and Senate as a commonsense guardrail — a statement that Texas won’t bankroll what they consider pretty theater with tax money.
Critics Push Back — And Not Just from the Left
Democrats, gun safety advocates, and local officials fired back. Sen. Royce West (D–Dallas) slammed the measure as “government overreach,” warning that cities and counties should arraign these decisions themselves . Rep. Gene Wu of Houston reminded colleagues that these events were wildly popular — with people lining up for blocks, exchanging decades‑old heirlooms or rusted pistols for sanitized H‑E‑B gift cards.
Proponents of buybacks emphasize the public awareness campaigns and education they facilitate. They insist that even one gun taken off the street is worth the exchange. But opponents insist the guns surrendered are irrelevant — low‑value antiques or broken pieces — never the actual weapons used in crimes. It’s not like gang bangers are dropping off their Glocks for a few loaves of bread and some milk.
Why Gun Buybacks Are Hated by Second Amendment Purists
- Proven Ineffectiveness: A 2021 National Bureau of Economic Research study concluded these programs “have done little to reduce gun crime or firearm-related violence”. Cato Institute and RAND researchers echo the finding: buybacks are “thin” on real safety benefits .
- They Target Non-Crime Guns: Participants tend to bring low‑quality, unusable firearms — “clutter guns” — not those with crime potential .
- They Promote a Disarmament Narrative: Virdell and Hall argue that government-funded buybacks subtly declare “guns are bad, let us fix it,” undermining the Second Amendment’s spirit .
- Taxpayer Bulwark: Why use public money to buy what people already don’t want? That’s the core of the rebellion — every dollar spent is taxpayer cash removed from priorities that actually matter.
Other States That Have Banned Buybacks
Texas isn’t alone. In Michigan (House Bill 5479, March 2020), lawmakers blocked state funds from supporting local buyback events . Wyoming also floated similar ideas recently. Way back in 2014, both Kansas and Indiana barred local taxpayer money from such programs. And North Dakota, in an AP News report from around six years ago, debated broad punishments against public-run buybacks — though private groups are left untouched.
To be clear, these bans don’t outlaw what folks can do privately. They simply stop wrangling public dollars to influence any norm of civilian disarmament.
Tax Dollars for Theater
This is a psy‑op with coupons: “Fix your soul. Trade your heirloom .38 for a grocery card.” The message is soft-shoe disarmament — not through force, but suggestion. Dress it up as “gun safety,” slap a celebrity endorsement on the flyer, and hope no one asks why the violent crime rate hasn’t moved an inch.
Gun buybacks are performance art paid for with public funds — a moral parade, not a tactical strategy. They allow bureaucrats to check a box and issue a press release while giving the public a false sense of safety. The real danger isn’t the rusted .410 shotgun someone turned in for a gift card. The real danger is the sleight of hand — convincing citizens that their rights, and their property, are somehow a civic burden.
HB 3053 pulled the curtain back. It doesn’t criminalize gun buybacks outright, but it tells local governments: if you want to play gun show and tell, pay for it yourselves. Texas isn’t interested in symbolic gestures that burn tax dollars without measurable results.
That’s not oppression. That’s accountability.
Second Amendment Victory — At a Price
When it was signed into law, Texas became the first full‑state ban on local taxpayer-funded buybacks. For gun rights proponents, it’s a pure win:
- Defends civilian gun culture from state‑sanctioned stigma.
- Saves taxpayer dollars, by selling the “waste” narrative.
- Asserts state authority, limiting local blue-city autonomy — another blow in the simmering red/blue battle for Texas turf.
The Final Word
Texas didn’t just ban gun buybacks — it reclaimed the narrative. No more taxpayer-funded charades. No more pretending that collecting junk guns at grocery store rates is a stand against violence. The Lone Star State called the bluff, drew the line, and reminded the rest of the country that liberty doesn’t come with a bar code.
This isn’t about relics or red tape. It’s about principle. In Texas, the right to bear arms isn’t up for barter. You don’t trade freedom for feel-good optics. You don’t sell your rights for a hundred-dollar voucher and a pat on the head. And you sure as hell don’t let the government play both sheriff and snake oil salesman.
The message is simple: Texas stands armed, proud, and unapologetically free.
Let the other states chase headlines. In the Lone Star state, they’ll keep their powder dry—and their rights intact.