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Scott Adams, the sharp-witted cartoonist behind Dilbert and a lightning rod for the culture wars, died on January 13, 2026 after a public battle with metastatic prostate cancer. His passing—announced by family and reported widely—closed the book on a complicated life: brilliant cartooning that skewered corporate absurdity and later, a man vilified for provocative opinions that many in the institutional press leapt upon.
In his final days Adams surprised friends and critics by writing that he accepted Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior, calling the choice a pragmatic “risk-reward” calculation in the style of Pascal’s Wager. That ending—odd, defiant, and quintessentially Adams—was publicized by outlets across the spectrum, and it only underscores the man’s habit of framing belief and identity as intellectual wagers rather than pure sentiment.
Yes, Adams courted controversy; newspapers dropped Dilbert from their pages after remarks he made later in life, and the corporate press never let the nuance stick when it suited a headline. But to erase the decades of cultural insight his comic provided—strips that captured the daily absurdities of office life for millions—is intellectual vandalism dressed up as righteous correction.
Megyn Kelly’s recent tribute captured that unfairness perfectly, as she and guests like Andrew Klavan highlighted both Adams’s comic genius and the way legacy outlets rushed to smear his legacy rather than reckon with the whole man. Kelly’s ire at the media’s reflexive moralizing rings true: too often modern obituary writers file a character assassination and call it news.
Conservatives and free-speech defenders should be clear-eyed here: pointing out Adams’s worst moments does not justify the wholesale exclusion of his body of work from cultural memory. The same institutions that lionize and protect likeminded figures routinely seek to crush those they disagree with, then feign impartiality while doing it—an abuse of power that deserves constant exposure.
Scott Adams was a provocateur who made millions laugh and think, and who later forced uncomfortable debates about politics, truth, and consequences. It’s simple decency—tempered by principle—to remember both the wit and the flaws, to defend the right to speak, and to refuse the cheap triumphalism of a media that prefers verdicts to honest reporting.
