Why do some doctors advise against kissing a deceased loved one?

The reaction to this medical caution was immediate and deeply divided. On one side are the proponents of scientific vigilance who argue that safety should never be compromised, even in the depths of sorrow. From their perspective, the medical community has an ethical obligation to inform the public about the “post-mortem microbiome.” When a body ceases its metabolic functions, the immune system—the primary defense against pathogens—is no longer active. This allows for the rapid proliferation of various microorganisms. If the cause of death involved sepsis, meningitis, or gastrointestinal infections, the concentration of harmful germs can be significant. To these advocates, the act of kissing the forehead or the hand of the deceased is an unnecessary gamble with one’s own health, potentially turning a funeral into a point of secondary contagion.

On the opposite side of the debate are those who find this medical intervention to be a cold, clinical intrusion into the most private of human experiences. For many, the rituals of death are the only way to process the magnitude of loss. In many Eastern Orthodox, Catholic, and various indigenous traditions, the “last kiss” is not merely a gesture; it is a spiritual necessity. It is the final opportunity to show affection and to acknowledge the physical presence of the departed before they are committed to the earth. To suggest that this act is “dangerous” feels, to some, like a desecration of a holy moment. They argue that the emotional and psychological trauma of being denied a final physical touch could be far more damaging to the living than the minute risk of a bacterial infection.

This tension between grief and caution reached a fever pitch during the global COVID-19 pandemic. Public health authorities were forced to implement stringent guidelines that restricted families from touching, kissing, or even being in the same room as their deceased relatives. These measures were born out of a desperate need to curb the spread of an unknown and highly infectious respiratory virus. While these protocols undoubtedly saved lives, they left a legacy of “unresolved grief” for thousands of families who were unable to perform their traditional mourning rites. This period served as a grim case study in how public health necessity can clash violently with the human psyche’s need for tactile closure.

From a strictly clinical perspective, the risks associated with kissing a deceased loved one depend heavily on the circumstances of the death and the timing of the encounter. If a body has been professionally prepared by a mortician, many of the biological risks are mitigated through sanitization and embalming. However, in the immediate aftermath of death—before professional intervention—the risks are at their highest. Medical professionals point to specific pathogens, such as Staphylococcus aureus or enteric bacteria, which can linger. Furthermore, if the deceased was a carrier of a bloodborne or respiratory pathogen, the surface of the skin could technically harbor these agents for a limited window.

Navigating this “Farewell Dilemma” requires a nuanced approach that respects both the laboratory and the chapel. Many grief counselors and progressive medical professionals suggest a middle ground: the “Mindful Farewell.” This approach encourages family members to consult with medical or funeral staff about the specific risks associated with their loved one’s cause of death. If there is a legitimate concern regarding infection, families might be encouraged to touch the loved one’s hand rather than their face, or to use a cloth as a symbolic barrier.

Ultimately, the act of kissing the dead is a testament to the power of human attachment. It is an act that defies the clinical reality of the morgue in favor of the emotional reality of the heart. While doctors like Viktor Ivanovik provide a necessary service by highlighting the biological risks, they are also reminding us of the profound weight we place on physical contact. We are a species that heals through touch, and in the presence of death, that need becomes even more acute.