A Dutch sperm donor who quietly built a global network of offspring has now been told to stop, after reportedly fathering more than 550 children across multiple countries. The case of Jonathan Jacob Meijer, born in the Netherlands, has turned a niche fertility story into a full‑blown debate about ethics, regulation, and what happens when one man’s donations scale far beyond what anyone imagined. It is a story about numbers, but also about trust, consent, and the limits of a system that largely runs on good faith.
At the center is a man who insists he only wanted to help people have families, and a group of parents and advocates who say they feel misled and exposed to risks they never signed up for. Their clash in a Dutch courtroom has now set a legal line in the sand, and the ripple effects are reaching clinics, lawmakers, and streaming platforms from Europe to Netflix’s true‑crime queue.
How one donor became a global outlier

Jonathan Jacob Meijer did not start out as a public figure. He was a private sperm donor from the Netherlands who, according to reports, kept donating long after most people would have stopped. As of April 2023, he was linked to hundreds of children, with estimates putting the number at more than 550 across several continents, a scale that pushed him far outside normal practice for fertility medicine. Biographical details describe Jonathan Jacob Meijer as a Dutch national who built that network over years of donations, both through clinics and private arrangements.
In many countries, donors are capped at a few dozen children at most, precisely to avoid the kind of sprawling kinship web Meijer ultimately created. Dutch guidelines, for example, allow a donor to help conceive up to 25 children with 12 mothers, a ceiling that exists to limit the odds that half‑siblings will unknowingly meet and form relationships. Reports indicate that Meijer did not just brush past that limit, he blew through it, continuing to donate in the Netherlands and abroad even after concerns were raised. A later profile of Jonathan Jacob Meijer notes that his offspring are now spread across several continents, which is exactly what made regulators and parents nervous.
The Dutch court steps in
The tipping point came when parents and advocates decided that quiet complaints were not enough and took the matter to court. A Dutch advocacy group, together with the mother of one of Meijer’s children, asked judges to intervene after learning just how many families had used the same donor. In response, a Dutch court ordered him to stop donating sperm altogether, citing the sheer scale of his offspring and the risks that came with it. The judges treated the case as a matter of protecting children and parents from a situation they could not reasonably have anticipated.
In a separate account of the ruling, a judge at Hague District Court is described ordering an immediate halt to any further donations, after hearing that Meijer had already helped conceive at least 550 children. The court concluded that he had misled clinics and parents about the true number of offspring, and that continuing to donate would unreasonably increase the chance of accidental incest among his biological children. The decision effectively banned him from approaching new clinics or private recipients, and it signaled that Dutch judges were willing to treat serial donation as a legal problem, not just an awkward footnote in fertility medicine.
Why the number “550” set off alarm bells
The figure that keeps coming up in every account of this saga is 550. Dutch reports describe Meijer as a man suspected of fathering more than 550 children worldwide, a number that dwarfs the recommended cap in the Netherlands. Another account of the case repeats that he fathered at least 550 children, underscoring how central that figure is to the legal and ethical debate. For parents who thought they were choosing a relatively rare donor, learning that their child might have hundreds of half‑siblings was a shock.
One report describes how all these parents are now confronted with the reality that their children belong to a “huge kinship network” with hundreds of genetic relatives, a phrase that captures both the scale and the unease. That concern is echoed in coverage that notes Meijer is suspected of having fathered more than 550 children, and that this was precisely what pushed families to seek legal help. The number is not just a statistic, it is the reason the case exists at all.
Parents, advocacy groups, and a sense of betrayal
Behind the courtroom language are parents who say they feel blindsided. Many of them chose Meijer as a donor believing he had only a limited number of offspring, in line with Dutch guidelines. When they later discovered that he had been donating at multiple clinics and through private channels, some described a sense of betrayal, arguing that they had not given informed consent to be part of such a large genetic network. An advocacy group representing these families joined forces with one mother to bring the case that ultimately led to the ban, as described in detailed accounts of the Dutch ruling.
Another report notes that the lawsuit was supported by a foundation representing other parents, who argued that Meijer’s behavior had created an unacceptable risk of accidental relationships between half‑siblings. They pointed out that under Dutch guidelines, donors are supposed to be limited to 25 children with 12 mothers, a rule that Meijer allegedly ignored while continuing to donate abroad. Coverage of the case explains that the court agreed he had misled prospective parents about the number of children he had already fathered, a finding echoed in a summary that highlights how the judge concluded he had misinformed families about his existing offspring in order to keep donating. That detail appears in a report where the Author, identified as Associated Press, notes that the judge found he had misled parents about the number of offspring he helped to conceive.
What Meijer says he was doing
Meijer, for his part, has pushed back on how his story is being told. He has publicly argued that he was motivated by a desire to help people who could not conceive, and that he did not intend to harm anyone. In a recent interview about a streaming documentary, he complained that a new series on Netflix was misleading, saying it painted him as a villain rather than someone who had helped hundreds of families. That documentary, which focuses on a Dutch sperm donor who fathered hundreds of children, has helped turn his case into a global talking point, but Meijer insists key details are missing or distorted.
Social media has only amplified the drama. One viral post framed the story around the streaming series The Man with 1000 Kids, asking viewers if they had “Seen the” latest allegations about Meijer. The post claimed that Allegations included mixing sperm samples with another donor, a claim that has fueled online outrage and speculation. Meijer has rejected the way these stories frame him, arguing that the narrative has been shaped more by sensationalism than by the experiences of families who are happy with their children. His critics, however, say the issue is not whether the children are loved, but whether parents were given the full picture before they chose him.
The legal logic behind the ban
When the case reached court, judges had to translate all that emotion into legal reasoning. The decision that barred Meijer from further donations framed his actions as a violation of the rights of children and parents to a safe and transparent conception process. A detailed account of the ruling notes that the court found he had misled clinics and parents about the number of children he had already fathered, and that this deception undermined the trust that underpins fertility treatment. The ruling also warned that if he ignored the order, he could face significant financial penalties, a detail highlighted in coverage of the Man Who Has case.
Another report explains that the court’s reasoning leaned heavily on existing Dutch guidelines, which limit donors to 25 children with 12 mothers. By fathering at least 550 kids, Meijer had gone far beyond what regulators considered safe, and the court concluded that allowing him to continue would unreasonably increase the risk of accidental incest and psychological harm. A summary of the decision notes that the Court explicitly cited those guidelines, underlining that its decision was not about punishing generosity but about enforcing limits that were already on the books.
Inside the Dutch fertility system
To understand how this happened, it helps to look at how sperm donation is supposed to work in the Netherlands. Dutch guidelines are clear that a donor should not father more than 25 children with 12 mothers, a rule designed to balance the need for donors with the need to keep genetic networks manageable. Yet the system relies heavily on clinics and donors self‑reporting their activity, and on different facilities sharing information. In Meijer’s case, reports suggest that he donated at multiple clinics and also arranged private donations, which made it harder for anyone to track the total number of offspring. A video report on the Netherlands Dutch scandal notes that judges were told he had donated both domestically and abroad, which helped him slip through the cracks.
Another account of the case points out that Meijer had already been blacklisted by at least one Dutch clinic, but that did not stop him from donating elsewhere, including in other countries. A report on the broader risks of serial sperm donors notes that in 2023, a court in the Netherlands banned a man identified as Jonathan M. from donating any more sperm, and ordered clinics to destroy his remaining samples. That same report highlights how a lack of centralized tracking allows donors to move between clinics and even countries, making it difficult to enforce limits that look strict on paper.
Global worries about serial donors
Meijer’s case is extreme, but it is not happening in a vacuum. Around the world, fertility experts have been warning that serial sperm donors and patchy regulation create real risks for donor‑conceived children. A detailed investigation into these issues notes that a man identified as Jonathan was banned by a Dutch court after fathering hundreds of children, and that similar stories have surfaced in other countries where donors used online platforms to reach recipients directly. The core problem is that many systems were built for a world of local clinics and paper files, not for an era where one donor can ship samples across borders and connect with recipients on social media.
In that context, Meijer’s 550 children look less like a one‑off scandal and more like a warning sign. A video report on the Netherlands Dutch case frames it as part of a broader fertility scandal, with judges stepping in only after parents realized how many half‑siblings their children might have. Another summary of the ruling, which notes that it was Published April, underscores that courts are now being asked to fill gaps that regulators and clinics have left open. For donor‑conceived adults who are only now discovering dozens of half‑siblings through DNA tests, Meijer’s story feels less like an outlier and more like a glimpse of what can happen when the system fails to keep up.
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