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

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.

The evolution of this debate highlights a broader shift in how modern society views death. In previous centuries, death occurred in the home, and family members were intimately involved in washing and preparing the body. There was a higher level of “death literacy” and a natural acceptance of the body’s post-mortem state. Today, death has been largely institutionalized and sanitized, moved behind the curtains of hospitals and funeral parlors. When a doctor suddenly brings up the “danger” of a farewell kiss, it feels jarring because we have become distanced from the physical realities of mortality.

As we move forward, the goal is not to eliminate these sacred traditions out of fear, but to empower people with the knowledge to perform them safely. Awareness of hygiene does not have to strip a moment of its sanctity. A final kiss can still be a profound act of love, even if it is done with the understanding of the life—and the microscopic life—that remains. The heart requires closure, and the body requires protection; finding the balance between the two is the true work of mourning in the modern age. By acknowledging the science without dismissing the soul, we can ensure that our final goodbyes are as safe as they are meaningful.