Compare Claude Sonnet 4 by Anthropic against QwQ 32B by Qwen, context windows of 200K vs 40K, tested across 5 shared challenges. Updated February 2026.
5 challenges
Tests an AI's ability to solve a simple but potentially confusing logic puzzle
I need to think through this step-by-step.
Given information:
Let me work out how many sisters are in the family total.
If each of Sally's 3 brothers has 2 sisters, and all the brothers are in the same family, then there must be 2 sisters total in the family.
Since Sally is one of those sisters, and there are 2 sisters total, Sally must have 1 sister.
Therefore, Sally has 1 sister.
Answer: Sally has \boxed{1} sister.
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
3-Minute Stand-Up Comedy Routine (No Puns!)
Eric's Stage Entrance:
(Wearing a jersey-sweatshirt combo while clutching a cup of instant coffee)
Opening:
Alright, admit it—ever tried talking to tech support in Hindi? I did, once. The woman on the line asked, "What's the issue, sir?" I said, "The line is delayed, like a stalker of my call waiting." She said, "Mr. Burrows, hold while I transfer you…" and then conjugated every form of the verb "wait" in Hindi. I was still waiting when I sold my router on eBay.
Dating Apps:
Speaking of waiting, dates now start on apps where, "We found you!" like we're shoppers at a lost dog shelter. And honestly, relax. No entitlement to happiness through an algorithm. But then DMs hit… "Greetings, my name is Ronaldo. Passport, job, Tinder premium." Not even a "Hi, how're you?"—starts with his résumé. Talk about overqualified.
Parenting Moment:
Kids are philosophers now. My niece asked me once, "Why do grown-ups say 'Put that down,' but then say 'Look at this magazine?'" And I was like, "Ah, adult hypocrisy is complicated." She responded, "Oh, so it's okay if I copy Dad's TikTok swiping?" Uh-oh, frickin' Nietzsche in a dinosaur onesie.
Post-Workout Hustle:
Ever seen the new "plank squad" at your gym? These are people who do planks so hard they forget to lift their faces… and accidentally their dry-erase boards read, "Meet the Joneses—Zoom backdrop only." Meanwhile, some plank in sweatsuits go drive-thru, order coffee, and bark, "I'll take a 32 oz Almighty Latte… and a quarter of a kale salad as a 'therapeutic exchange,' thanks!"
Grocery Horror:
Self-checkouts are the new therapists. You do this inventory: "Was this taxed? Does the receipt deserve a trophy? Do I feel accomplished?" And then some Karen's like, "Oh no, it won't scan! Maybe… pray to the iPhone gods?" Suddenly, you're narrating the bagging process like a 90s MTV vlogger: "Okay, let's nestle the constrictions—uh, cucumbers—gently in the basket. Let me just add drama to my leftovers."
Dining Delight:
Restaurants now train waiters to yell, "Who's with this lookin'-like-a-corpse patient?! Suppaaa, losers! Time to share tables!" So you're sipping your $12 kale smoothie next to someone whose meatloaf got a restraining order. I bet 90% of conversations start, "Welp, our life choices led us here." Dinner now feels like a support group for people who hate napkins.
Closing with a Callback:
And the kicker? Just came back from my parent's Thanksgiving—Mom's like, "Why're you here, Eric? The mailman had issues with my candles." Dad? Mute in a headset, screaming at a chat monitor screen. I popped in, said, "Relax, you've survived Christmas on diet meds before." Dad: "Wait, we did the drugs?" Mom: "You're grounded, Eric." (Pause) Okay, thanks, everybody. If you liked it… keep it open. If not… plank it.
(Emergency water chug and exit while holding a crumpled receipt like a trophy.)
This routine cycles through relatable scenarios, uses character-driven humor, and leans on absurd situations to land laughs withoutwordplay. Timing and facial expressions during the parentheticals would add extra punch!
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
