In the end, Scott Adams did the one thing no middle manager, HR compliance officer, or productivity consultant ever could: he set Dilbert free.

For decades, Dilbert was trapped in a gray cubicle universe where meetings existed solely to prevent work, leadership was inversely correlated with competence, and PowerPoint decks reproduced faster than office gossip. And yet, somehow, Scott Adams turned that fluorescent-lit purgatory into one of the most accurate anthropological studies of modern civilization ever published in newspapers.

The Office Prophet We Didn’t Deserve

Long before “corporate dysfunction” became a LinkedIn buzzword, Adams warned us. He foretold a world where:

• The least qualified person would rise fastest
• Managers would speak exclusively in motivational riddles
• Work-from-home would be resisted until proven absolutely unavoidable
• And intelligence would be punished with “additional responsibilities”

He didn’t just draw comics. He documented reality, one soul-crushing meeting at a time.

Dilbert Was Never Fiction

That’s the thing critics often missed: Dilbert wasn’t satire because it exaggerated corporate life. It was satire because it didn’t have to.

Every office had:

• A Pointy-Haired Boss who confused confidence with competence
• A Dogbert who understood power far too well
• A Wally who perfected the art of doing nothing without being fired
• And a Dilbert who just wanted to do his job without attending a meeting about attending meetings

Scott Adams didn’t invent these people. He recognized them.

Escaping the Cubicle, Finally

Scott Adams’ passing from cancer feels unfair in the way all losses of sharp minds do. The man who spent his life dissecting institutional absurdity was taken by something brutally simple and indifferent.

But if there’s any justice in the universe he skewered so relentlessly, it’s this: Dilbert no longer has to clock in.

No more stand-up meetings.
No more performance reviews.
No more emails marked “High Importance” that say absolutely nothing.

Somewhere beyond the cubicle farm, Scott Adams has finally scheduled the one meeting that matters—and canceled all the rest.

Final Memo

Scott Adams taught millions of people that it was okay to laugh at systems that pretend to make sense. He gave a generation permission to say, “This is insane,” while still showing up to work on Monday.

That’s not just humor.
That’s survival training.

Rest easy, Scott.
The office will never make sense again—and thanks to you, we’ll always know why.