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

A recent viral TikTok video from Dr. Viktor Ivanovik, a Moldovan physician with a following of over 300,000, has ignited a heated conversation about a deeply personal practice: kissing deceased loved ones. In his candid and widely shared clip, Dr. Ivanovik issued a stark warning about the potential health risks associated with this tradition, particularly when the deceased succumbed to an infectious disease. His comments, delivered with a mix of medical authority and concern, have sparked both admiration and outrage. Supporters praise his focus on public health, while detractors argue that his advice disrespects a cherished ritual that spans cultures and generations, raising questions about where the line should be drawn between safety and sentiment.

For many around the world, the act of touching or kissing a deceased loved one—whether it’s a gentle kiss on the forehead, a tender hold of the hand, or a final embrace—is a cornerstone of mourning. This practice, rooted in diverse traditions from European wakes to Asian ancestral rites, offers a profound sense of emotional closure and connection. It allows families to say goodbye in a tangible way, providing comfort amid the raw grief of loss. Yet, as Dr. Ivanovik pointed out, this intimate gesture isn’t without its risks, especially in an era where infectious diseases can linger in unexpected ways. His warning has reopened a dialogue that gained prominence during the COVID-19 pandemic, when health authorities worldwide, including the World Health Organization, urged families to reconsider physical contact with the deceased to curb potential transmission.

The medical consensus, as echoed by experts, is that the risk of contracting an illness from a dead body is generally low, particularly if the cause of death was non-infectious, such as a heart attack or old age. However, the danger escalates when the deceased had a contagious condition. Diseases like tuberculosis, which can release infectious particles if lung fluid is disturbed during handling, or hepatitis B and C, transmissible through contact with blood or bodily fluids, pose legitimate concerns. Hemorrhagic fevers, such as Ebola or Marburg virus, are even more alarming, with evidence suggesting that direct contact with infected remains can lead to transmission, especially if proper precautions are absent. Severe bacterial infections, like meningococcal sepsis, also carry a risk if fluids are mishandled. Dr. Ivanovik’s caution stems from these rare but real scenarios, urging families to weigh the emotional need against the potential health hazard. He advocates consulting a physician or funeral professional to assess the specific circumstances, a practical step that has been endorsed by public health guidelines during outbreaks.

The backlash to his advice highlights a cultural clash. In many communities, the act of kissing or touching the deceased is seen as a sacred duty, a final act of love that transcends medical advice. During the COVID-19 pandemic, for instance, families in some regions defied restrictions, arguing that denying this ritual stripped them of a vital part of their grieving process. Critics of Dr. Ivanovik’s stance on TikTok have echoed this sentiment, with comments ranging from “This is heartless—grieving isn’t a science experiment” to “Our traditions deserve respect, not fear.” Yet, his supporters counter that awareness can empower rather than restrict, pointing out that informed choices can protect vulnerable family members, especially the elderly or those with weakened immune systems.

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For those hesitant to abandon the tradition but mindful of the risks, there are compassionate alternatives that preserve the spirit of farewell without compromising safety. Placing a flower on the casket or body allows for a symbolic gesture of love and respect, a practice common in many funerals. Lighting a candle in remembrance creates a quiet, reflective moment that honors the departed. Writing a farewell letter offers a personal outlet to express emotions, which can later be buried with the loved one or kept as a keepsake. Creating a tribute with photos, music, or a video montage provides a communal way to celebrate a life, fostering connection without physical contact. These options, while different, carry deep emotional weight and have been embraced by grief counselors as effective ways to navigate loss during health crises.

This debate underscores a delicate balance between love, tradition, and public safety. The impulse to kiss a deceased loved one is a human one, driven by the need to connect one last time. Yet, as Dr. Ivanovik’s video suggests, the context matters—particularly when infectious diseases are involved. The key lies in making informed decisions, guided by medical advice tailored to the situation. Funeral homes and healthcare providers can play a crucial role, offering guidance on safe practices, such as using protective barriers or limiting contact time. Ultimately, the essence of saying goodbye resides in the intention behind the act—whether through a kiss, a flower, or a silent prayer—rather than the method itself. As this conversation continues to unfold, it challenges us to honor our loved ones with both heart and wisdom, ensuring that grief does not become a gateway to harm.