Birth is already loaded with stories, fear, hope, memory. Add in a major investigation like the recent Guardian series on the Free Birth Society and suddenly the air feels even heavier. People are talking. Some are defending. Some are raging. Many are confused.

So this is not a piece about telling you what to do.
This is an invitation to look calmly at what is happening, what is beautiful about unassisted birth, what is deeply concerning about how it is sometimes promoted, and what it might all mean for the choices people make next.

No judgement. Just truth, care and reflection.

The investigation: what has been uncovered

The Guardian spent a year looking into the Free Birth Society (FBS), a North Carolina based organisation that promotes unassisted childbirth and so called wild pregnancy, where people avoid standard antenatal care

The investigation links FBS to dozens of cases of stillbirth, neonatal death or serious harm around the world, with 18 cases documented in depth through interviews and evidence

The reporters describe women following FBS teachings, declining scans and monitoring, staying home in the face of worrying symptoms, and continuing long, complicated labours without skilled help. Some babies were born not breathing after clear signs of distress. Some mothers experienced severe bleeding. In several cases, families and former followers believe that earlier transfer to medical care might have changed the outcome.

At the same time, FBS has been a very successful business. The Guardian reports that it has generated more than 13 million US dollars since 2018 through podcasts, online schools and paid courses, while making claims that experts have described as medically dangerous or misleading.

Now, what does that do to the landscape of birth choices?

Why people are still drawn to unassisted birth

Before we talk implications, we must honour the reasons people choose unassisted birth at all.

For some, it is about trauma. They have been mistreated in hospital. Talked over. Touched without consent. Ignored when they said something was wrong. For Black and marginalised women, this sits inside a long history of racism and neglect in maternity care. That is not imagination. Reports and inquiries keep showing it, including findings on systemic racism in maternity care in England.

For others, it is spiritual and intuitive. They feel safer at home. They want birth to be quiet, private, self directed. They believe birth is a normal physiological process and they want to experience that with as little interference as possible.

Some have no realistic access to safe, respectful care. Rural areas, broken systems, previous complaints about abusive staff. When the system does not feel like a refuge, it does not feel like a choice.

And some have researched carefully and decided that, for them, with their health, their location and their values, an unassisted birth is the route that feels most aligned. They are not following an influencer. They are following a deep internal knowing.

So yes, there are real pros that people name:

• Privacy, intimacy and control over the environment.

   

• Freedom from routine intervention and institutional rules.

   

• A sense of spiritual or emotional fulfilment.

   

• The possibility of healing after previous trauma.

   

We cannot dismiss these. They matter.

The problem is not unassisted birth in itself

Unassisted birth is not automatically safe or unsafe. It is a context, not an outcome.

What the Guardian investigation highlights is not simply that people birthed without professionals, but that an organised enterprise encouraged people to reject almost all medical knowledge, all antenatal care, and often any plan for emergency support, while presenting this as safer and more enlightened.

This is where the concern sharpens.

Because choosing unassisted birth after balanced information, honest risk assessment and thought through planning is one thing. Choosing it from within an echo chamber that removes dissent, minimises red flags and romanticises every outcome is quite another.

How this coverage might affect birthing choices

The Guardian series lands in a world where birth is already politicised and racialised. It will not float in quietly. It will ripple through policy rooms, social media, NHS management meetings and kitchen table conversations. Here are some potential implications.

1. More fear and stigma around any birth outside hospital

Some people will read these stories and fold every home or community birth into one category in their minds. The nuance between a planned homebirth with a skilled midwife and a wild, unassisted labour with no antenatal care may be lost. That can fuel stigma against anyone who chooses to birth outside standard hospital environments, even when their choices are grounded, informed and supported.

2. Possible tightening of regulation and surveillance

Where there is public outcry, there is often a push for more control. There may be calls to regulate doulas and independent birth workers more heavily, to monitor online communities, or to create stricter rules around what can be said publicly about birth. Some of this might be framed as protecting women and babies. Some of it may unintentionally criminalise community based knowledge and make it harder for people to access holistic support.

3. Deeper mistrust on both sides

People who already distrust the medical system may see this coverage as another attack on their autonomy and another example of mainstream media aligning with institutional power. That can push some further into self contained communities where dissent is discouraged, which ironically increases risk. At the same time, clinicians may become even more wary of any birth decision that does not line up neatly with guidelines, which can shut down conversation and make families feel judged rather than heard.

4. Pressure on Black and marginalised women’s choices

Black women are already walking a tightrope. On one side is a system that has demonstrably failed many of us. On the other side are alternatives that are now being publicly associated with danger and cult like behaviour. The fear is that Black women in particular may be framed as irresponsible if they make non mainstream choices, while still not being properly protected inside the system. That is a heavy, unfair burden.

5. A chance to re imagine what safer, autonomous care could be

On a more hopeful note, this investigation could also prompt serious conversations about how to offer genuinely safe, respectful, community grounded care. It shines a light on why people left the system in the first place, and might finally push some institutions to ask uncomfortable questions about racism, consent, communication and continuity of care.

Holding space for people who still choose unassisted birth

Even with all this in the air, some people will still choose to birth without a professional present. Some will read the Guardian’s work and feel confirmed in their decision to avoid the kind of teaching it describes, while continuing to plan an unassisted birth in their own way. Others may feel shaken and go back to the drawing board.

Where does that leave us?

It leaves us, I think, with the work of supporting people to do careful research and deep due diligence if they are considering this path. Not to steer them, but to make sure they are not making decisions from a place of manipulation or incomplete information.

Questions that can help include:

• What is my real reason for wanting an unassisted birth? Is it healing, fear, spiritual belief, a mix of all three?

   

• Have I learned not only about normal birth physiology, but also about what can go wrong and how to recognise it?

   

• Do I understand the specific risks for someone in my situation, with my health history and circumstances?

   

• If I am reading or listening to a particular teacher or community, are they transparent about bad outcomes, or only sharing the glowing ones?

   

• Do they welcome questions and critique, or do they shame anyone who expresses doubt?

   

• Do I have a clear plan for what to do if I or the baby show signs of distress? Who can I call? How far away is help?

   

• Am I willing to change my plan in the moment if something does not feel right, or have I tied my sense of identity to a particular type of birth?

   

These are not tests to pass. They are invitations to honesty.

The difference between empowerment and influence

One of the most powerful things in all this is the language of empowerment. Free birth spaces often talk about radical responsibility and sovereignty. Done well, that can be beautiful. It can help people move from passive patient to active participant.

However, the Guardian’s reporting suggests that in some cases, this language has been used in a way that shifts accountability off the teachers and onto the mothers, even after tragedy.

Empowerment means you get full, balanced information and space to decide. Influence means someone filters reality for you and then calls the result freedom. The line can be thin, especially when people are hurting and longing for a sense of belonging and safety.

So one implication of this moment is a reminder to check in with ourselves and our communities. Are we supporting people to think critically, or are we relying on charisma, stories and aesthetic to carry the message?

What might a better future look like?

Imagine a world where:

• Hospitals are places of genuine respect, especially for Black and marginalised women.

   

• Community based midwives are fully resourced and welcomed as partners, not treated with suspicion.

   

• Doulas and birth workers are recognised for their role, supported in ethical practice, and not pushed out or silenced.

   

• People who want quiet, undisturbed birth can have that with skilled, unobtrusive support nearby.

   

• No one has to choose between their dignity and their safety.

   

The Guardian investigation does not take us there by itself. But it can be one of the sparks that pushes us to ask: how do we build something better, so that extreme reactions and dangerous teachings do not feel like the only alternative?

A closing word

If you have had an unassisted birth, are considering one, or have supported people on that path, you may be feeling many things right now. Defensive. Relieved. Angry. Sad. Confused. All of it is valid.

My hope is that this piece gives you language to hold both sides. To say:
Yes, people have been harmed by institutions.
Yes, people have also been harmed by those who exploited that harm for profit and influence.
Yes, autonomy matters.
Yes, our choices carry weight and deserve serious preparation.

If you would like space to talk this through, share your story, or think about how to support families in this moment, you are welcome to reply. No pressure. No script. Just community, sitting with the hard things and holding each other through.