Compare Claude Sonnet 4 by Anthropic against Grok 3 Thinking by xAI, context windows of 200K vs 128K, tested across 8 shared challenges. Updated February 2026.
8 challenges
Tests an AI's understanding of number representation
No, 9.11 is not greater than 9.9.
To compare these decimal numbers:
Since both numbers have the same whole number part (9), we compare the decimal parts:
Therefore, 9.9 is greater than 9.11.
To determine whether 9.11 is greater than 9.9, let's compare the two numbers step by step.
Both numbers share the same whole number part, which is 9. Therefore, the comparison hinges on the fractional parts. For 9.11, the fractional part is 0.11, and for 9.9, it is 0.9.
To make the comparison clearer, express both fractional parts with the same number of decimal places. Since 9.11 has two decimal places (hundredths), rewrite 9.9 as 9.90, where 0.9 equals 0.90 (adding a trailing zero does not change the value). Now, we compare:
Aligning the numbers vertically:
9.11
9.90
Thus, 9.11 is less than 9.90, meaning 9.11 is not greater than 9.9.
To confirm, consider a numerical approach by subtracting: 9.9 - 9.11 = 9.90 - 9.11 = 0.79, a positive result, indicating 9.9 is larger.
Therefore, the answer to "Is 9.11 greater than 9.9?" is no.
Tests an AI's randomness and creativity
Here are 5 jokes for you:
Why don't scientists trust atoms? Because they make up everything!
I told my wife she was drawing her eyebrows too high. She looked surprised.
Why don't eggs tell jokes? They'd crack each other up!
I'm reading a book about anti-gravity. It's impossible to put down!
Why did the scarecrow win an award? He was outstanding in his field!
All 5 jokes are unique - each one has a different setup, punchline, and comedic concept. They cover different types of wordplay: scientific puns (#1, #4), visual humor (#2), food puns (#3), and agricultural wordplay (#5).
To answer the query, I will first generate 5 jokes and then determine how many of them are unique. Here are the jokes:
Now, I need to assess how many of these jokes are unique, meaning how many are distinct from one another with no exact duplicates. Let's examine them:
Each joke has a different setup and punchline:
Since all five jokes differ in their subject matter and wordplay, there are no exact duplicates. Therefore, the number of unique jokes is 5.
Answer: 5
Tests an AI's ability to generate vector graphics
Tests an AI's ability to create detailed SVG illustrations of gaming hardware
Tests an AI's humor and creative writing ability
walks on stage, adjusts mic
So I'm 30 now, which means I'm officially an adult. Apparently. Though I still feel like I'm just a confused teenager wearing a slightly more expensive t-shirt.
You know what nobody tells you about being an adult? How much time you spend pretending to understand what other adults are talking about. I was at a dinner party last week – because that's what we do now, we have "dinner parties" instead of just "eating pizza on the couch" – and someone started talking about mortgage rates.
I just nodded along like, "Oh yes, rates. Very mortgage-y." Meanwhile, I'm thinking a mortgage is something you get at a fancy French restaurant.
mimics sophisticated nodding
"Mmm, yes, I'll have the mortgage, medium rare."
And don't get me started on small talk with neighbors. I live in an apartment building, and there's this unspoken rule that you have to acknowledge each other in the hallway. But what do you say?
"Hey, nice... existing near me."
"Thanks, you too. Love what you've done with your... door."
The worst is when you're both waiting for the elevator in complete silence. It's like a hostage situation, but with more awkward eye contact. You're both just standing there, praying the elevator comes before one of you has to comment on the weather.
stares ahead uncomfortably
"So... it's very... outside today."
I tried being one of those people who meal preps. You know these people? They spend their entire Sunday cooking seventeen identical containers of sad-looking chicken and broccoli. I bought all the containers, felt very organized, very adult-like.
Week one: Perfect little meals, properly labeled. I felt like a productivity guru.
Week two: I'm eating cereal for dinner and using the containers to store my collection of takeout sauce packets.
holds up imaginary container
"Ah yes, vintage soy sauce, 2023. A good week for Chinese delivery."
Speaking of food, grocery shopping as an adult is weird. When you're a kid, the grocery store is magical. Everything looks amazing. You want the cookies, the candy, the sugar cereal with the cartoon mascot.
Now I walk through the store like a tired parent, even though I don't have kids. I'm just disappointed in all my options.
walks slowly, shaking head
"This yogurt has too much sugar. These crackers have no fiber. Why is everything either terrible for you or tastes like cardboard had a baby with sadness?"
And I've started doing this thing where I read nutrition labels like I understand them. I don't. I just nod thoughtfully and put things back like I'm some kind of wellness expert.
"Hmm, seventeen grams of... things. That seems like too many things."
The real kicker is when you find yourself getting excited about household appliances. Last month, I spent twenty minutes explaining to my friend why I love my new vacuum cleaner. TWENTY MINUTES. About a vacuum.
"It has three different settings! And look at this attachment! This little brush thing goes in corners!"
My friend just stared at me like I'd been replaced by a suburban mom from 1987.
But you know what? I've decided to embrace it. Yes, I get excited about good storage solutions. Yes, I have opinions about thread count. Yes, I've used the phrase "back in my day" unironically, and I'm only thirty.
shrugs confidently
Because being an adult isn't about having it all figured out. It's about confidently pretending you know what you're doing while secretly googling "how to fold a fitted sheet" for the hundredth time.
And if that's not the American dream, I don't know what is.
pause
Also, if anyone actually knows how to fold a fitted sheet, please find me after the show. I'll pay you.
mic drop gesture
Thank you, you've been a wonderful audience! Don't forget to tip your servers and call your parents – they're worried about you!
Total time: approximately 3 minutes when delivered at normal comedy pace
Here’s a 3-minute stand-up comedy routine that avoids puns and leans on observational humor, storytelling, and a touch of self-deprecation for laughs:
Opening: Technology Struggles
Hey, everyone! How’s it going? You know, I’ve been thinking about how technology is supposed to make our lives easier, but half the time it just turns us into confused messes. Like, I was texting my friend the other day to say, “I’m on my way,” and autocorrect decided, nah, let’s spice it up—changed it to “I’m on my cat.” Now my friend thinks I’m out here galloping around town on a tabby. I mean, cats are great, but as a mode of transport? Forget it. You’d be late to everything, stopping every five minutes for a nap or to chase a laser pointer.
The Date Disaster
Speaking of looking ridiculous, I went on a date recently, and it was going pretty decent—nice restaurant, solid chat—until my phone decided it was time to ruin my life. Out of nowhere, it butt-dials my ex. Not just any ex, but the one who still has my Netflix password and isn’t afraid to use it. So there I am, mid-sentence, trying to be suave, and suddenly my ex’s voice is blasting through the speaker going, “Hey, have you seen the new season of our show?” Our show! Like we’re still a thing! My date’s just staring at me, and I’m over here like, “Oh, haha, that’s just… my phone’s impression of a terrible wingman.” Didn’t recover from that one.
Cooking Catastrophe
I probably should’ve seen it coming, though. I’m not exactly a master of romance. My dating history is basically a highlight reel of chaos. One time, I tried to impress a date by cooking dinner—thought I’d keep it simple with spaghetti. How hard could it be, right? Well, turns out, hard enough to set the kitchen on fire. Not a little smoke, I mean flames. The fire department showed up, and I’m standing there covered in marinara sauce, explaining how I turned pasta into a 911 call. One firefighter goes, “You got a permit for this disaster?” I’m like, “No, but can I get your number instead?” Spoiler: he said no.
The Fish Fiasco
After that mess, I figured I’d take a break from dating and get a pet instead—something easy, low stakes. So naturally, I picked a fish. Because why not set myself up for maximum disappointment? Now I’m that guy having one-sided conversations with a creature that doesn’t even blink in my direction. I even tried to take it for a walk once—grabbed the bowl, walked around the block. People were staring, and this kid comes up like, “Are you starting a traveling aquarium?” I go, “Nah, just giving my fish some exercise.” He ran away, probably to tell his parents there’s a lunatic on the loose.
Closing: Blaming the Phone
But you know what? At least my fish doesn’t care about my dating flops. My phone, though? That thing’s out to get me. Between autocorrect and rogue calls, it’s like it’s trying to sabotage my whole existence. Maybe I should ditch it and go old-school—carrier pigeons, smoke signals, something. At least then, when it all goes wrong, I can point at the bird and say, “That’s on you, pal.” Thanks, everybody—you’ve been awesome!
This routine mixes relatable everyday mishaps with exaggerated storytelling and a bit of self-mockery, keeping it pun-free and clocking in around three minutes with natural pacing and delivery.
Tests an AI's ability to replicate an existing UI with Tailwind CSS
Tests an AI's ability to create interactive web elements
Tests an AI's ability to create a detailed world map in SVG format