Do you mean respecting the dead bodies or respecting the memories of the dead?

Well, the question you asked is the basis of my question. Why do we respect the dead? Is it because of the memories we have of them, or because of the fact that they are dead bodies?

What's to like about a dead body you didn't know when it was alive? It's the life of the living we respect, not the package the dead occupy.

Even in a morgue with many dead bodies, or in a cadaver lab, with many dead people, there is still much respect that surrounds the room, and the people, dead or alive in it.

Thank you 'multiple symbols that I don't have on my keyboard'

Respect is intimately linked to morality. All good qualities like honesty, wisdom, bravery, kindness, fortitude, genius, etc. elicit respect.

So, the question is ''What is good about the dead?''

Well, nuthin'. When I say this I'm being as inclusive as possible - ALL deaths. There are cases of bravery e.g. the soldier who takes the bullet for his comrades, the lover who sacrifices himself/herself, etc. But there are also cases which involve no bravery or goodness e.g. dying of old age, accidents, etc.

So, why respect the dead when there's nothing good achieved in dying?

We instinctively sense the complete defeat that death represents. The dead person loses everything - all that he loves - and in that his loss is permanent and irrevocable. He is also defenseless and anyone may do or say anything with complete impunity. This knowledge evokes respect from the living. We respect the dead, not because there's anything good in the dying or the dead but because we, the living, are good.

There is no logical reason to honour a dead body, yet the body is the direct object of perception of those we love, and logic has very little to do with emotional attachment. When my dog died, his fur felt much the same, as he would have had he been sleeping. That body I had such a tactile relationship with.
Here's "Beau" by james Stewart.
He never came to me when I would call
Unless I had a tennis ball,
Or he felt like it,
But mostly he didn't come at all.

When he was young
He never learned to heel
Or sit or stay,
He did things his way.

Discipline was not his bag
But when you were with him things sure didn't drag.
He'd dig up a rosebush just to spite me,
And when I'd grab him, he'd turn and bite me.

He bit lots of folks from day to day,
The delivery boy was his favorite prey.
The gas man wouldn't read our meter,
He said we owned a real man-eater.

He set the house on fire
But the story's long to tell.
Suffice to say that he survived
And the house survived as well.

On the evening walks, and Gloria took him,
He was always first out the door.
The old one and I brought up the rear
Because our bones were sore.

He would charge up the street with Mom hanging on,
What a beautiful pair they were!
And if it was still light and the tourists were out,
They created a bit of a stir.

But every once in a while, he would stop in his tracks
And with a frown on his face look around.
It was just to make sure that the old one was there
And would follow him where he was bound.

We are early-to-bedders at our house--
I guess I'm the first to retire.
And as I'd leave the room he'd look at me
And get up from his place by the fire.

He knew where the tennis balls were upstairs,
And I'd give him one for a while.
He would push it under the bed with his nose
And I'd fish it out with a smile.

And before very long
He'd tire of the ball
And be asleep in his corner
In no time at all.

And there were nights when I'd feel him
Climb upon our bed
And lie between us,
And I'd pat his head.

And there were nights when I'd feel his stare
And I'd wake up and he'd be sitting there
And I reach out my hand and stroke his hair.
And sometimes I'd feel him sigh
And I think I know the reason why.

He would wake up at night
And he would have this fear
Of the dark, of life, of lots of things,
And he'd be glad to have me near.

And Now he's dead.
And there are nights when I think I feel him
Climb upon our bed and lie between us,
And I pat his head.

And there are nights when I think
I feel that stare
And I reach out my hand to stoke his hair,
But he's not there.

Oh, how I wish that wasn't so,
I'll always love a dog named Beau.

I don't know -- I tend not to spend a lot of time around cadaver labs.

Probably for the best

There is no logical reason to honour a dead body — charleton

I would disagree with you in that dead bodies, throughout time have a special meaning, and symbolize many different spiritual, physical, and emotional constructs. In the case of certain religions, dead bodies alone have symbolic meaning and are the basis of that religion. At the same time, the Catholics put a big emphasis on your life and who you were. The worship of saints, and other important persons, not because of their death, but because of who they were.
So, yes, while there is no logical reason to honor a dead body, there is also no logical reason to eat breakfast foods at breakfast time, lunch foods at lunch time, and dinner foods at dinner time, it is just something that is done because of the reverence that we give the action

So, why respect the dead when there's nothing good achieved in dying? — TheMadFool

But what if there is something good in dying?
There are many ways people die, including accidents, old age, and disease. To name a few. some of these ways are fast, others are slow, some are painless, some agonizing. Can you say that for someone who has cancer, and is suffering for years, their passing away is an end to their agony? After death, they know nothing, so they are finally freed from their pain. However, it is us, the survivors that suffer from the loss of a family member, or friend. It is the survivors that must respect them, and live on to remember them for who they were. It is up to us, those alive, to pass on their legacy, and it is up to us, the ones who didn't go with the dead, to respect the memory of them, and to continue to love the memories that they have with that person.
Everyone dies, so why does everyone make such a big deal out of the dead?

But what if there is something good in dying? — Anonymys

Can you name one morally good thing in dying? You can't. It's not an achievement in any form unless you want to count those who die for a cause. I don't want to get into that because exceptions are exceptions and so can be safely dismissed from consideration. Let's look at the many, the most, who die of disease and accidents. There's nothing achieved in those deaths. Yet, we the living, respect them. Since respect arises in good, we search for goodness in death but, as I said, nothing can be found. Yet we respect the dead. The only explanation can be that the goodness is not in the dead; it's in the living who recognize the finality of death and its complete annihilation of the person. The dead will never experience joy or love. This evokes, in us, respect for the dead.

We have an obsession with cultural structure. Breakfast is breakfast. We divide raw and cooked; male and female; black and white; gay and straight; dead and alive; up down; left right Forks on the left. Such cultural norms are without reason. 90% of what we think of as real is nothing but myth. It's nice to take step back and be critical; to challenge those norms. This is where progress resides.

The dead will never experience joy or love. This evokes, in us, respect for the dead. — TheMadFool

In relation to emotion, you're right, the only person feeling anything when the individual dies is us, the living. However, I disagree that there is no good in death, as I stated before

Can you say that for someone who has cancer and is suffering for years, their passing away is an end to their agony? After death, they know nothing, so they are finally freed from their pain. — Anonymys

I'll rephrase this quote to say "After many years of suffering, my aunt was finally at peace when she passed, knowing that she would no longer have to suffer the pain of the cancer eating away at her insides" Her family, friends, and loved ones were also at peace with her death, not to say that they weren't devastated, but they were at peace knowing that their loved one was no longer going to have to suffer the turmoil of this world. Unless you have context, death is just something at the end of the road waiting to swallow you up and use you to make an example for everyone else willing to participate in life journey. If you're not willing to participate, death still awaits you. Death itself is a resolve to an absolute: life. You either live or you don't, there is no in-between, however, how you live determines your death, because everyone dies, and only a few can say that death is something to look forward to.

However, I disagree that there is no good in death, as I stated before — Anonymys

Can you list what is good in the dead?

I don't believe that there is anything special in the dead, but that death itself doesn't signify anything terrible