As Dilbert creator Scott Adams’ legion of fans have known for eight months, he has been in a battle royale with cancer. With a superior intellect, artistic skill, and a whimsical and biting sense of humor, Dilbert spent decades delighting fans by skewering pomposity and corporate ineptitude. Tragically, cancer won the war against Adams’ perishable body, but Adams won the imperishable jackpot. What Satan intended for evil, God used for good.
On Jan. 4, 2026, in one of his last video coffee klatches, Adams said, in his deliberate, inimitable, languorous way,
[M]any of my Christian friends and Christian followers say to me, “Scott, you still have time. You should convert to Christianity.” And I usually just let that sit because that’s not an argument I want to have.
I’ve not been a believer, but I also have respect for any Christian who goes out of their way to try to convert me because how would I believe you and believe your own religion if you’re not trying to convert me. So, I have great respect for people who care enough that they want me to convert and then go out of their way to try to convince me.
So, you’re going to hear for the first time today that it is my plan to convert. So, I still have time, but my understanding is you’re never too late.
… any skepticism I have about reality would certainly be instantly answered if I wake up in heaven. …
And so, to my Christian friends, yes, it’s coming. So, you don’t need to talk me into it. I am now convinced that the risk-reward is completely smart. If it turns out that there’s nothing there, I’ve lost nothing. But I’ve respected your wishes, and I like doing that. If it turns out there is something there and the Christian model is the closest to it, I win.
So, with your permission, I promise you that I will convert, but I probably won’t spend much time in that phase. So don’t expect it to happen today. … But argument made; argument accepted.
Nine days later, Adams died. He left a note to be read and posted on social media proving that he kept his promise:
I accept Jesus Christ as my lord and savior, and I look forward to spending an eternity with him.
The part about me not being a believer should be quickly resolved if I wake up in heaven. I won’t need any more convincing than that. And I hope I am still qualified for entry.
As we ruminate on Adams’ death, profession of faith, and theology, it would be wise to remember that he was a “baby” Christian who barely had time for milk, let alone solid food.
There is only one path to eternal life, and that’s through Christ, but there are many paths to Christ. Like so many before him and to come, Adams found his way via the logic of mathematician and philosopher Blaise Pascal’s wager. If there is no creator, no heaven and no hell, then there is no risk of harm in putting one’s trust in the claims of the historical figure of Jesus Christ. If, however, Jesus Christ is who he claims to be, the cost of rejecting him is catastrophic—more catastrophic than any suffering we endure during our temporal lives.
Even before he accepted Christ, Adams recognized that sharing the good news of Christ’s salvific work on the cross verifies that a Christian believes his beliefs are true and that they love others.
If Christians genuinely believe that their friends and family members who don’t accept Christ as their Lord and Savior will spend eternity separated from God and yet say nothing, do they genuinely love them?
Once Dilbert took aim at “wokism,” leftists successfully embarked on a scorched earth campaign to destroy him professionally. Because of their own stupidity, ignorance, and evil, they painted him as a racist for sarcastic comments he made in order to hold leftists to the “logic” of their own arguments. Their stupidity or evil should embarrass them, but destruction by any means is what passes as virtue in the leftist hive mind.
New York Times reporter Richard Sandomir included the false and ignorant allegation in Adams’ obituary:
“Dilbert,” a daily satire of corporate life … became a sensation but was dropped by more than 1,000 newspapers after [Adams] made racist comments on his podcast in 2023.
There will likely be more ugly thoughts and celebratory words from leftists who rejoice in the deaths of those who oppose their God-rejecting worldview and the evil it spawns.
Often death bed conversions are viewed with skepticism by skeptics. They argue that either fear or pain or a combination thereof creates both a false sense of reality and a desperate emotional flailing about for escape in a delusional hope for a future.
But that’s not my perception from my ringside seat to dying.
At the end of 2022, my brother died unexpectedly. In October 2023, I buried my father. Three months later, I buried my husband who battled Parkinson’s disease, multiple bouts with squamous cell carcinoma, and aggressive high-grade papillary urothelial carcinoma. Shortly after his cancer diagnosis, one of our children was diagnosed with cancer. Just two weeks ago, on Dec. 29, her oncologist told her remission is not feasible. They hope to extend time and relieve pain through immunotherapy. And I am on a kidney transplant waitlist.
While disease and death usher in overwhelming suffering, they don’t create a false reality.
Holding hands with cherished loved ones as they walk the often harrowing path to death burns away the frivolous, superficial, vain, and selfish. The time frittered away on activities that never merited either time or interest lose their appeal. What’s remains is clarity—clarity and regret that fills empty spaces no longer occupied with nonsense. That which is true, and good, and beautiful come to occupy center stage.
Most of us say glibly, “We’re all going to die.” One day those words become real. Parents die. Beloved spouses die. Siblings die. Treasured children die. And then we ourselves die. On that day, there will be either nothing or ineffable glory.
Scott Adams bet on glory.
R.I.P.