The Unregistered Americans: Living Without Legal Identity in the US
Sam Bishop, a 26-year-old resident of Worcester, Massachusetts, has red hair and a quiet voice. Legally speaking, however, he does not exist. Born at home in Keene, New Hampshire without a doctor, nurse, or midwife present, his parents—described as drug users and anti-government extremists—never filed a birth certificate. This single omission has rendered Sam invisible to the system, barring him from obtaining a Social Security number, driver's license, passport, or even basic photo identification.
A Life of Limitations
Without documentation, Sam cannot open a bank account, get a credit card, purchase health insurance, pass a background check to rent an apartment, or secure employment. He is unable to earn a GED, enroll in college, or obtain a library card. His mobility is severely restricted: he cannot own a car, call an Uber, board a plane, leave the country, or use most interstate buses and trains. In a nation built on paperwork and proof, Sam is trapped in a state of evidentiary statelessness—a citizen without the documents to prove it.
Sam has spent years contacting lawyers, state and federal agencies, social workers, non-profits, and elected officials, all without success. He is not alone. Hundreds, possibly thousands, of people across the United States are "unregistered Americans," stuck in bureaucratic limbo and barred from ordinary life due to missing birth certificates and Social Security numbers.
The Search for Proof
In New Hampshire, an adult seeking a first-time birth certificate must submit at least three documents establishing name, birth date, place of birth, and parents. These can include elementary school records or childhood medical records. Sam has neither, as his parents homeschooled him, avoided doctors due to anti-vaccination beliefs, and lived an unstable, nomadic life in trailer parks, long-stay motels, and abandoned homes.
His parents, estranged from relatives, gravitated toward off-grid communities sharing their worldview: the U.S. government is illegitimate, official documentation should be rejected, and conspiracy theories associated with the "sovereign citizen" movement are embraced. The state accepts a sworn statement from a parent as partial proof, but Sam does not know their whereabouts or if they are alive, having not heard from them since being kicked out at age 16 after a violent confrontation with his father.
Broader Implications and Movements
Sam's predicament highlights a growing issue. The rise of "freebirth," where women choose to give birth outside the medical system without a doctor or midwife, combined with sovereign citizen ideologies, risks increasing the number of unregistered Americans. Sovereign citizen beliefs view birth certificates as contracts transferring baby ownership to the state and Social Security numbers as turning people into "tax cattle."
Nikki, a former freebirth coach identified by her first name due to fear of professional repercussions, notes that since the COVID-19 pandemic, declining trust in hospitals and health authorities has made freebirth "trendy," drawing thousands into online communities. While most freebirthing women are not motivated by fringe ideologies, sovereign citizen ideas have begun circulating, particularly among homeschooling families skeptical of mainstream medicine.
Other Cases and Struggles
Other unregistered Americans include the Jackson brothers in Idaho—Matthew, Tim, and Benjamin—born at home with unregistered births because their parents "didn't like the government." Abigail Colón in Augusta, Georgia, lacks a birth certificate due to her parents' sovereign citizen beliefs. Each faces similar barriers: Abigail wants a driver's license to take her kids to the playground, while Matthew dreams of traveling or getting married but feels stuck in a camper van in rural Idaho.
Larissa Mak, outside Portland, Oregon, spent years without documentation but recently obtained a passport after a seven-month process involving sworn statements, census records, affidavits, and a DNA test. Holding her passport, she took "the deepest breath" and immediately signed up for her GED. Not everyone is as fortunate. Samuel Buffington in Dallas, homeless and born at home to hyperreligious, anti-government parents, won a lawsuit for birth certificate recognition but still lacks a Social Security number, job, or home.
Community Perspectives
In Grafton, New Hampshire—a town known for the failed Free State Project libertarian movement—Sam sought traces of his childhood. John Babiarz, former fire chief and Libertarian gubernatorial candidate, initially praised Sam's off-grid status as "beautiful," noting some "would kill for that privilege" to avoid taxes. Rich Angell, another local, viewed birth certificates as turning people into "corporations owned by the government" and advised Sam to maintain his situation.
Dave Riley, a libertarian activist, expressed skepticism toward sovereign citizens but acknowledged New Hampshire as "a good place to be for operating that way, without papers." However, Sam's desire is simple: "I just want to be able to have a normal life," he says. "Just be able to drive, and just have a bank account, and just have a normal job. I really don't feel like that's asking for much."
As watchdog groups estimate several hundred thousand sovereign citizens in the U.S., and influencers promote avoiding birth certificates and Social Security numbers, advocates worry the number of unregistered Americans will grow. Betsy Fisher, a law professor at the University of Michigan, warns these fringe movements are becoming more common, while Samantha Sitterley of United Stateless emphasizes that lacking a legal identity is "torture." For Sam and others, the quest for documentation remains a daily struggle, underscoring the profound impact of being invisible in a system reliant on proof.
