Sanctuary Cities for the Unborn, Explained

If you’ve landed on this page because you heard a “Sanctuary City for the Unborn” ordinance is being discussed in your town, you may feel confused, alarmed, or unsure how seriously to take it. That reaction is intentional. These ordinances are often introduced quickly, explained vaguely, and framed as harmless or symbolic. In reality, they represent one of the most aggressive and destabilizing local policy strategies currently being used to restrict abortion access and suppress community organizing.

This page exists to explain exactly what SCFTU ordinances are, how they function, who designed them, and why they are dangerous not only for abortion access, but for local democracy itself.

What Is a Sanctuary City for the Unborn?

A “Sanctuary City for the Unborn” (SCFTU) ordinance is a local law that seeks to prohibit abortion and abortion-related activity. They are specifically designed to stifle reproductive care, even if it happens in places where abortion is legal. They go as far as intimidating people for traveling out of state to get care and penalizing those helping them. That’s not just government overreach, it’s a travel ban disguised as local policy. Let us make this very clear: these ordinances are not grassroots. They’re part of a coordinated campaign led by anti-abortion extremists traveling town to town trying to get these ordinances passed, often with little transparency and little local support. Voters are often misled about what the ordinances actually do, and communities are left to clean up the mess.

How SCFTU Ordinances Work

SCFTU laws rely on a few key tactics that show up again and again:

The defining feature of SCFTU ordinances is their reliance on something called “private civil enforcement.”

Rather than city officials enforcing the law, these ordinances allow private individuals to file lawsuits against anyone they suspect has violated the ordinance. This enforcement structure matters deeply.  Let us explain:

What “Civil Enforcement” Means in Practice

  • Anyone can file a lawsuit

    • It does not matter if the abortion happened in a state where the practice is legal

    • It does not matter if the person filing the lawsuit was personally affected

    • Even if you didn’t actually assist someone in their exercising their right to choose, you can still be sued for intending to do so

  • Multiple lawsuits can be filed by different people for the same alleged conduct (AKA double/triple jeopardy)

  • Even if you win your lawsuit, you are still required to pay all court and attorneys’ fees

This model was intentionally designed to avoid constitutional review while shielding local governments from accountability at the same time. This means that the folks who are writing and enacting these laws, can’t be held accountable when your rights are taken away from you. The ultimate goal is to attract ideologically motivated individuals who want to punish those with different views. This creates fear and uncertainty around already confusing laws, and it forces communities to spy on a report on their neighbors. This is the same blueprint written into Texas’ SB 8 law (Fun fact: they’re written by the same gross men who want to control people’s bodies.)

How Fear Becomes the Enforcement Tool

These ordinances rarely see courtrooms because fear does most of the work. The harm begins quietly, in everyday moments that never make the news: a parent hesitating before helping their child travel for medical care; a friend deleting a text offering a ride to an appointment; a volunteer stepping back from a mutual aid group because they can’t risk even the possibility of being sued; a nonprofit pulling resources and information “just to be safe”; a city official choosing silence over scrutiny.

These ordinances are written vaguely on purpose: so people are left guessing where the line is. And when the cost of being wrong, or even ignorant, could mean public exposure, financial ruin, or years of legal stress, many decide it’s safer to do nothing at all. Even when enforcement is unlikely, uncertainty alone is enough to silence speech, fracture organizing, and push care underground. Over time, neighbors start policing each other, conversations shrink, and fear replaces solidarity. Not because people have stopped caring, but because SCFTU makes compassion feel dangerous.

Who is Targeted in SCFTU?

One of the most dangerous and confusing features of SCFTU ordinances is their use of the phrase “aiding and abetting.” While supporters often claim this only applies to so-called “abortion traffickers,” the ordinances themselves are written broadly, allowing nearly any form of help, support, or information-sharing to be framed as illegal. This ambiguity is intentional. When people can’t clearly tell what behavior might expose them to a lawsuit, many chose silence and inaction, which is exactly how these laws do their damage.

Organizers, Advocates, and Volunteers

For organizers and volunteers, “aiding and abetting” can be interpreted to include the basic work of community education and mutual support. Hosting informational meetings, sharing clinic or hotline information, answering questions online, tabling at events, connecting people to resources, or even helping coordinate logistics are all legally risky under SCFTU. The ordinance sometimes specifically prohibits this type of resource-sharing, which is meant to leave people with no guidance and no options. This is a gross violation of the First Amendment.

Family Members + Loved Ones

SCFTU ordinances deliberately blur the line between activism and care, placing family members at risk for simply supporting someone they love. Helping pay for travel, taking time off work to accompany someone, offering childcare, or even emotional support can be framed as “aiding and abetting.” In moments of crisis families are forced to weigh compassion against fear of legal retaliation. This can lead to mistrust in relationships, or worse, scare someone from acting in a timely manner during the midst of a medical emergency like a miscarriage.

Friends + Neighbors

For friends and neighbors, the risk shows up in everyday acts of kindness. Offering a ride, or a place to stay, help navigating appointments, or even basic support like meals or childcare could also be considered “aiding and abetting.” In smaller towns where privacy is limited and people know one another, SCFTU can make even quiet, personal acts of help feel exposed. This pushes people to withdraw from helping altogether, or forces them to potentially make a costly legal risk.

Healthcare Workers + Medical Professionals

Healthcare workers in Texas are already working under FOUR overlapping abortion bans, each with its own penalties, exceptions, and legal gray areas. SCFTU piles on yet another layer of confusion and uncertainty on top of an already dangerous situation. Doctors are forced to second-guess what they can legally say and recommend, even in emergency situations. In moments where minutes matter, providers may hesitate to consult lawyers instead of acting, because if they help too soon it could expose them to criminal penalties too, not just civil ones. We’ve seen how this plays out in Texas, where patients like Amanda Zurawski and Lauren Miller were denied timely, life-saving medical care because doctors’ hands were tied by these abortion laws. SCFTU worsens this crisis by reinforcing a system where legal risk outweighs medical judgment, leaving providers trapped between their duty to care for patients and a web of laws designed to punish them for doing so.

By using the phrase “aiding and abetting,” SCFTU ordinances intentionally collapse care, stifle free speech, and frame community support into something that can be framed as criminal. These laws do not just target imaginary “abortion traffickers,” they are designed to make ordinary people afraid to help, speak, or show up for one another, leaving those in crisis isolated when they need support the most.