On a quiet evening in February 2021, Ken Cheung sat in his Calgary shop, 007 Airsoft, surrounded by twenty-five years of inventory. The phone had been ringing all day. His customers, his community, were afraid. Some were angry. A few were already making plans to sell their collections.
Bill C-21 had just been introduced to Parliament by the Liberal government under Justin Trudeau, and buried in its provisions was language that would effectively criminalize the sport of airsoft in Canada. Not because airsoft posed any threat to public safety. Not because airsoft players had committed crimes. But because the government had decided that the easiest targets aren't criminals—they're law-abiding citizens with registered addresses, PAL licenses, and businesses that can be shut down with the stroke of a pen.
What followed was not just a story of political advocacy. It was a masterclass in grassroots mobilization against legislation that fundamentally misunderstood both the problem and the solution—a testament to what happens when a community decides that complaining isn't enough, and that action is the only way to stop bad policy.
The Threat: When Government Targets the Wrong People
Bill C-21 entered Parliament wrapped in the language of public safety. Handgun freezes, stricter penalties for firearms trafficking, new measures to address ghost guns. On the surface, these seem reasonable. The problem is that none of these measures actually target criminals.
Criminals don't register their handguns. They don't apply for PAL licenses. They don't buy from legal retailers who keep records and verify documentation. They acquire firearms illegally, often smuggled across the border, and they have absolutely zero interest in compliance with firearms legislation. Bill C-21 didn't target them—it couldn't. Instead, it targeted the people easiest to regulate: legal owners who have invested considerable time and money into their sport or profession.
And buried within this legislation was Section 84(3.2), a provision that would deem certain mid-velocity firearms—including airsoft guns—to be prohibited devices. The technical definition was broad enough to capture virtually all airsoft equipment: devices that resembled regulated firearms but operated at velocities between 152.4 and 500 feet per second with muzzle energy under 5.7 joules.
Let's be clear about what this meant. Airsoft players—who had operated legally for decades, who played on private property with full safety equipment, who contributed to local economies and supported small businesses—would become criminals overnight. Not because they had done anything wrong. Not because airsoft guns had been used in crimes at any significant rate. But because their equipment looked like real firearms, and optics matter more than reality in modern politics.
"If the bill passes the way that it is—that would mean the end of airsoft. If my business is finished, then my livelihood is finished because this is what I've been doing for the last many, many years."
— Ken Cheung, Owner of 007 Airsoft
The airsoft community had operated for decades in a carefully defined legal framework. Velocity thresholds (366-500 FPS) kept them classified as sporting equipment rather than firearms. They weren't toys, but they weren't weapons. The sport had grown to support thousands of players across the country, dozens of fields, hundreds of small businesses employing real people with real families. The film industry had increasingly adopted airsoft as a safer alternative to real firearms, especially after the 2021 Halyna Hutchins tragedy.
Bill C-21 would have destroyed all of this. And for what? Regina Police Chief Evan Bray claimed that roughly 20% of violent firearm-related crime involved replica firearms. That's a real concern—but here's the question nobody in government seemed interested in asking: How many of those replica firearms were legal airsoft equipment used by registered players, versus cheap hardware store replicas or modified toys used by actual criminals?
The answer, of course, is that legal airsoft wasn't the problem. But legal airsoft was easy to ban. There had been no consultation with the industry. No outreach to field operators, no discussions with retailers, no consideration of economic impact or the recreational value to participants. Just another example of legislation that punishes the compliant because they're easier to find than the criminals.
The Mobilization: From Panic to Purpose
When the bill was introduced, the initial reaction was predictable: panic, anger, disbelief. Online forums exploded with speculation and worst-case scenarios. Facebook groups became echo chambers of frustration. Reddit threads devolved into doom-scrolling. It was the classic response to legislative threat—a lot of noise, but not much signal.
Some of that anger was justified. The airsoft community had every right to be furious about legislation that would criminalize their hobby without evidence, consultation, or consideration. But anger alone doesn't change laws. And the community knew it.
A small group of dedicated community members—players, field operators, business owners—decided that outrage wasn't a strategy. They formed Airsoft in Canada (ASIC), a non-profit grassroots organization with a single mission: save the sport through informed, professional advocacy that would force government to confront the reality of what they were trying to ban.
ASIC's approach was methodical and strategic. They didn't just complain about the bill—they understood it better than the people who wrote it. They researched the legal frameworks, consulted with airsoft communities internationally, and compiled data on the sport's safety record, economic contributions, and cultural value. They reached out to law enforcement to understand their concerns—and then explained, patiently and with evidence, why banning airsoft wouldn't address those concerns.
They prepared detailed briefs. They organized testimony. They made themselves impossible to ignore. And critically, they didn't ask for special treatment or exemptions. They asked for policy that made sense—regulations that would address legitimate public safety concerns without destroying a legal sport practiced by law-abiding citizens.
The community followed their lead. Petitions launched on both Change.org and the House of Commons website, eventually gathering over 50,000 signatures. That's not just impressive—it's unprecedented for a niche recreational community. Players contacted their Members of Parliament. They wrote letters, made phone calls, and requested meetings. Some, like Ziming Wan of (at the time) BlackBlitz Airsoft in Waterloo, spoke to media outlets to humanize the issue and explain what the legislation would actually do to real businesses and real people.
This wasn't astroturfing or corporate lobbying. This was genuine grassroots mobilization—people who cared about their sport enough to do the unsexy work of democratic participation, even when it felt like they were fighting against a government more interested in being seen doing something than in doing something effective.
The Process: Making Politicians Do Their Jobs
Bill C-21 entered the committee phase in September 2022, and the airsoft community showed up ready to do what government hadn't: present evidence, offer solutions, and demonstrate that public safety and recreational freedom aren't mutually exclusive.
ASIC presented testimony to the Standing Committee on Public Safety and National Security. Their message was straightforward: We're not asking you to ignore public safety. We're asking you to write policy that actually addresses the problem instead of punishing the wrong people.
They proposed practical solutions:
- Create a specific definition for 'Mid-Velocity Firearms' within Section 84(1) of the Criminal Code that would properly classify airsoft equipment without catching it in overly broad prohibition language
- Implement age restrictions and mandatory safety requirements that would address legitimate concerns about misuse
- Require education and safety warnings for users to prevent accidental or intentional misuse
- Work collaboratively with the government to develop regulations that serve public safety without destroying a legal recreational activity
Critically, they acknowledged the legitimate concerns of law enforcement—but they also pointed out the fundamental flaw in the bill's logic. Criminals using replica firearms in crimes aren't buying legal airsoft equipment from licensed Canadian retailers. They're not registering with fields. They're not following any laws at all. Banning airsoft would do nothing to stop them, while simultaneously criminalizing thousands of law-abiding citizens who had done everything right.
It's a pattern familiar to anyone in the firearms community: legislation marketed as targeting crime that actually targets legal owners because they're documented, compliant, and easy to regulate. The government could claim victory over 'replicas' while actual criminals continued operating completely unaffected.
Members of Parliament, to their credit, listened. The Bloc Québécois and NDP took particular interest in finding a path forward that wouldn't destroy a legal sport without achieving any meaningful public safety benefit. Alistair MacGregor, the NDP member for Cowichan-Malahat-Langford, introduced an amendment to remove airsoft guns from the prohibited devices section of the bill.
The amendment passed unanimously.
Read that again. In an era of hyperpartisan politics and legislative gridlock, an amendment to protect a recreational sport from misguided prohibition passed with support from all parties. Not because of corporate money or political favors, but because a community organized, presented evidence, and forced politicians to confront the fact that their legislation was bad policy.
The Victory: Saving the Sport from Bad Law
On December 15, 2023, Bill C-21 received Royal Assent and became law. The final version included measures that the government could market as 'tough on crime': a national handgun freeze, increased penalties for firearms smuggling and trafficking, new red flag provisions for domestic violence situations, and regulations for ghost guns.
Whether any of these measures will actually reduce crime committed by people who don't follow laws is a question for future analysis. What matters for our community is what the bill didn't include: Section 84(3.2) or any provisions that would have prohibited airsoft equipment.
The sport remained legal nationwide, with the same velocity and energy requirements that had always governed it (366-500 FPS, under 5.7 joules). Fields stayed open. Shops kept their inventory. The film industry could continue using safer alternatives to real firearms. Players could still gather on weekends to run around in tactical gear, shooting biodegradable plastic BBs at each other in organized skirmishes—exactly as they had before the government decided to solve a crime problem by targeting people who weren't committing crimes.
The government's statement accompanying the bill's passage was telling: 'Thanks go to the airsoft community for working productively with our government to find a compromise that would ensure public safety is upheld while allowing the sport to be regulated.'
Translation: You forced us to do the work we should have done in the first place—consulting stakeholders and writing sensible policy instead of broad prohibitions that sound good in press releases.
What It Means: Lessons from the Trenches
The Bill C-21 saga offers several important lessons, not just for the airsoft community but for anyone facing legislation that targets law-abiding citizens instead of actual problems:
1. Organization Beats Outrage
The initial response to Bill C-21 was emotional—understandably so. When government targets you for regulation despite your compliance with existing law, anger is the natural response. But emotion doesn't change laws. ASIC transformed panic into purpose by providing structure, research, and a coherent advocacy strategy. They made it easy for community members to take meaningful action rather than just venting frustration online.
2. Know Your Real Opposition
The airsoft community's real challenge wasn't anti-gun activists or authoritarian politicians. It was legislative laziness and political expediency. It's easier to ban things that look scary than to address actual crime. It's easier to regulate legal owners than to stop illegal activity. Most MPs had never heard of airsoft and didn't understand the difference between legal sporting equipment and the cheap replicas used in crimes. The community's job was to force them to learn—and to make it politically uncomfortable to ban something that posed no public safety threat.
3. Don't Accept Bad Policy Framing
ASIC didn't let the government frame this as a binary choice between public safety and recreational freedom. They acknowledged legitimate concerns about replica firearms in crimes—then demonstrated that banning legal airsoft wouldn't address those concerns. They refused to accept the premise that punishing law-abiding citizens somehow makes society safer. This intellectual honesty gave them credibility that pure opposition wouldn't have achieved.
4. Evidence-Based Advocacy Works
The community didn't rely on emotional appeals or abstract arguments about rights. They presented data: safety records, economic impact, international comparisons, film industry adoption. They made it impossible for MPs to claim ignorance or to dismiss airsoft as a fringe activity. When you force politicians to confront facts that contradict their narrative, some of them will actually reconsider. Not all, but some—and sometimes that's enough.
5. Persistence Through the Process
From February 2021 to December 2023, this fight lasted nearly three years. There were setbacks, periods of uncertainty, and moments when the outcome looked grim. The bill even died and was resurrected after an election. But the community didn't give up. They showed up to every committee hearing, responded to every call for submissions, and maintained pressure throughout the legislative process. Persistence matters—especially when government hopes you'll get tired and go away.
6. Democracy Works, But Only If You Work It
The easiest response to bad legislation is cynicism. To assume that nothing matters, that government will do what it wants regardless of evidence or input, that ordinary citizens are powerless against the regulatory state. Bill C-21 proves that cynicism is a choice, not a fact. A relatively small recreational community—no major corporations, no political action committees, no celebrity spokespeople—saved their sport through democratic participation. They wrote letters. They signed petitions. They met with their representatives. And it worked. Not because the system is fair or perfect, but because they made it work through sheer determination.
Looking Forward: Vigilance as a Way of Life
The Canadian airsoft community emerged from the Bill C-21 battle stronger, more organized, and under no illusions about the need for continued vigilance. ASIC continues to operate, monitoring legislative developments and maintaining relationships with policymakers—because the lesson of Bill C-21 isn't just that grassroots advocacy works. It's that it needs to keep working.
There are no guarantees that future legislation won't pose similar challenges. Governments will continue to prefer regulating the compliant over pursuing the criminal. The political appeal of 'doing something' about crime will always favor measures that look tough over measures that work. The nature of replica firearms means airsoft will always exist in regulatory gray zones where lazy policy could catch it in overly broad prohibition language.
But the precedent has been set: this community can mobilize, advocate, and win—even against legislation that initially seemed inevitable. The community now knows how to engage the political process effectively. They know which MPs listened and which didn't. They know how to frame arguments that force government to justify its policy rather than simply assert it. They know that being right isn't enough—you have to be organized, persistent, and impossible to ignore.
For businesses like 007 Airsoft and BlackBlitz, for fields across the country, for the thousands of players who spend their weekends in tactical gear trading BBs—Bill C-21 was an existential threat that became a defining moment. It proved that when a community decides to stop complaining and start acting, even bad legislation can be stopped.
The sport was saved. Not by luck, not by government goodwill, but by 50,000 signatures, countless phone calls, endless committee meetings, and the unglamorous, essential work of holding politicians accountable for writing policy that makes sense instead of policy that makes headlines.
Key Players in Saving Airsoft
Airsoft in Canada (ASIC)
The grassroots non-profit organization that coordinated the community response, provided expert testimony, and maintained communication with policymakers throughout the legislative process. They transformed community outrage into professional advocacy that forced government to reconsider bad policy.
Alistair MacGregor, MP (NDP, Cowichan-Malahat-Langford)
Introduced the amendment that removed airsoft from Bill C-21's prohibited devices section. The amendment passed unanimously—proof that evidence-based advocacy can achieve bipartisan support even in a polarized political environment.
The Players, Shop Owners, and Field Operators
50,000+ petition signers, countless letters and calls to MPs, testimony from business owners like Ken Cheung and Ziming Wan, and community members who showed up to make their voices heard. This victory belongs to them—law-abiding citizens who refused to accept being criminalized for government's failure to address actual crime.
Standing Committee on Public Safety and National Security
The committee that heard testimony from ASIC and the airsoft community. To their credit, they listened to evidence and recommended amendments that addressed legitimate concerns without destroying a legal sport.
Timeline: Bill C-21 and Airsoft
February 2021
Bill C-21 introduced to Parliament with provisions that would ban airsoft guns alongside actual firearms regulations
March-August 2021
Community mobilization begins; petitions launched; ASIC formed to coordinate professional advocacy; 50,000+ signatures collected
September 2021
Election called; Bill C-21 dies on order paper (temporary reprieve)
May 2022
Bill C-21 reintroduced in new Parliament with similar provisions—the fight begins again
September 2022
Committee phase begins; ASIC presents detailed testimony and proposed amendments demonstrating how to address public safety without banning legal sport
2023
NDP amendment to remove airsoft passes unanimously—evidence-based advocacy achieves bipartisan support
December 15, 2023
Bill C-21 receives Royal Assent without airsoft ban provisions; sport remains legal nationwide for law-abiding citizens
"ASIC wants to thank all the MPs that listened to our community, and those that voted for the amendment. Most importantly, we need to thank each person that took action by writing, calling, or meeting with an MP. Those that decided complaining wasn't enough, and action was the only way to get results."
— Airsoft in Canada (ASIC), May 2023
