The science of it all notwithstanding, when a clown sits down next to me with a braked magnum (or even a braked 6.5 CM) I pack up and leave if I can't move to a bench far away from him. Aside from the re-directed noise, the re-directed concussive blast is also un-nerving- especially when I'm trying to work up loads for a light rifle and cringing while waiting for the next bench-clearing blast of hot gasses. My last encounter was with a clown shooting a braked Ruger tacticool chassis rifle of some sort in 6.5 CM that confirmed my take on the whole business. (And he wasn't hitting squat with it anyway.)
Use of brakes is entirely a guy's own business, his well earned right- up until he makes a nuisance of himself with it at a crowded range. It's no different than the kid with a loud hot rod, or an un-muffled Harley, who revs his engine needlessly in a quite residential neighborhood on a Sunday evening- inconsiderate at best.
