Scott Adams, Dilbert Creator, Dead at 68
A Career That Ended in Collapse
By
Devisadaria Duchine-Khauli
13 January 2026
By
Devisadaria Duchine-Khauli
13 January 2026
Scott Adams, the cartoonist behind the once beloved workplace satire Dilbert, has died at 68 following complications from advanced metastatic prostate cancer, according to multiple reports.
Adams became a household name in the 1990s, turning office culture — pointless meetings, incompetent management, hollow corporate slogans, and soul-sucking cubicles into a sharp daily comic strip that millions of workers felt spoke directly to them. At its peak, Dilbert ran in thousands of newspapers and helped define a generation of workplace humor.
But by the end of his life, Adams’ legacy had shifted dramatically. Once praised as a witty cultural commentator, he became a polarizing political voice whose public statements, particularly about Black Americans and other groups sparked outrage, widespread condemnation, and ultimately the mass removal of Dilbert from mainstream publication.
Adams launched Dilbert in 1989, and by the mid-1990s, the strip had become a cultural force, not just a comic, but a kind of daily therapy session for the working class.
It was packaged as humor, but it often hit like truth: the absurdity of workplace hierarchy, the emptiness of corporate “team culture,” and the quiet humiliation of being managed by people with less skill than the workers they supervise.
Even people who didn’t read comics knew Dilbert. It expanded into bestselling books like The Dilbert Principle and even spawned television adaptations and major licensing success.
Adams’ downfall was swift and largely self-inflicted.
In February 2023, Adams made remarks on his online show Real Coffee with Scott Adams that many outlets described as blatantly racist. In response to a poll, Adams referred to Black people as a “hate group” and encouraged white people to “get the hell away from Black people.”
The response was immediate and nationwide: Newspapers across the country dropped Dilbert. His syndicate, Andrews McMeel, severed ties.
Adams later attempted to frame his comments as exaggerated rhetoric or “hyperbole,” but for many readers, particularly Black readers, the issue wasn’t tone or delivery. It was content.
The comments reinforced a long-standing pattern in American media culture: when influential figures feel threatened or politically activated,
Black communities are often used as a scapegoat, described not as people, but as a problem to be avoided.
Adams had cultivated a second career as a political pundit and provocateur, increasingly aligning himself with right-wing culture-war commentary.
Over time, he became known less for satire and more for inflammatory messaging including controversial statements that often punched down at marginalized communities while insisting he was simply “telling the truth.”
And it wasn’t only Black Americans. Adams frequently escalated into broad attacks, absolutist generalizations, and language that helped normalize stereotyping — the kind of rhetoric that hardens into ideology and spills into public policy, media narratives, and real-world harm.
The result: for many observers, Dilbert no longer felt like a harmless comic strip about office life. It began to look like the early product of a worldview that later grew more explicit.
Adams and his supporters frequently argued that he had been “cancelled.” But what happened is more accurately described as consequence and accountability.
He wasn’t arrested for speech.
He wasn’t legally barred from publishing.
He continued producing content online for a dedicated audience.
What he lost was the broad platform newspapers provide and that loss came from businesses making a simple decision: they did not want to be associated with a brand whose creator publicly dehumanized Black people.
In a media landscape where marginalized groups have often been told to “ignore” disrespect, this moment stood out: Adams said what he said, and the mainstream finally chose not to normalize it.
Adams publicly revealed that he was suffering from late-stage prostate cancer, and reports say the illness had progressed severely.
His death was announced by his ex-wife, Shelly Miles, and confirmed by major outlets including Reuters and The Guardian.
Adams’ life poses a question society keeps facing: Can a creator’s work be separated from their conduct? For some fans, Dilbert will remain what it always was: a sharp critique of corporate dysfunction.
But for others, especially those directly targeted by Adams’ rhetoric, it’s impossible to detach the “humor” from the harm. A strip once seen as universally relatable became, in hindsight, part of a career arc ending in open hostility toward entire communities.
In the end, Scott Adams is remembered as both: the cartoonist who turned workplace misery into satire, and a public figure whose later commentary undermined his own achievements and contributed to social division.
It is possible to acknowledge a person’s talent without excusing their actions.
And it is also possible to mourn a death without romanticizing a legacy.
Scott Adams changed office culture with a pen but he also showed how quickly influence can curdle into prejudice when ego and ideology replace empathy.