Compare OpenAI Codex Mini by OpenAI against Gemini 2.5 Pro (I/O Edition) by Google AI, in 9 community votes, openai codex mini and gemini 2.5 pro (i/o edition) are closely matched, tested across 10 shared challenges. Updated February 2026.
In 9 community votes, OpenAI Codex Mini and Gemini 2.5 Pro (I/O Edition) are closely matched. OpenAI Codex Mini leads in Web Design, while Gemini 2.5 Pro (I/O Edition) leads in Image Generation. Based on blind community voting from the RIVAL open dataset of 9+ human preference judgments for this pair.
10 challenges
Tests an AI's randomness and creativity
Sure—here are five jokes:
All five are distinct. Number of unique jokes: 5.
Here are 5 jokes:
Why don't scientists trust atoms? Because they make up everything!
What do you call a fish with no eyes? Fsh!
I told my wife she was drawing her eyebrows too high. She seemed surprised.
Why did the scarecrow win an award? Because he was outstanding in his field!
What do you call a lazy kangaroo? Pouch potato!
All 5 of these jokes are unique.
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
[Comedian walks onstage]
Hey, everyone! Great to see you all tonight. I'm Jamie—if you thought that intro was enthusiastic, you should've seen me when I realized this place has Wi-Fi.
Seriously, though, I love stand-up. For one thing, I get to share all the weird stuff I secretly do in my apartment… and instead of calling the cops, you guys just laugh. That's high-quality entertainment right there.
So, the other day I'm in the self-checkout lane at the grocery store—because I'm the kind of person who's thrilled by the thought of scanning my own kale. Of course, there's always that one person holding up everyone behind them because they can't figure out how to scan a cucumber. Meanwhile, the machine flashes: "UNEXPECTED ITEM IN BAGGING AREA." It's staring at me like it's personally offended that I tried to buy almonds in instead of potato chips. I'm over here trying to reason with it:
"Look, buddy, I'm just trying to eat slightly healthier. Isn't that what we all want?"
Then it asks me, "Do you want a produce discount?" The only discount I want is one that lets me leave this line five minutes ago. I press "No," and the machine glares at me with a red light and calls for help like I'm smuggling avocados under my shirt.
My phone has ruined me. I can't have any thought longer than three seconds without Instagram interrupting me. I'll be in the shower—fresh shampoo, head full of suds—and in my brain:
"Did my neighbor's cat post another selfie? I need to check."
Fifteen minutes later I'm drying off, scrolling through cats wearing sweaters. Why are cats always more photogenic than me? They don't even try. They're just like, "You feed me, you click 'Like.'" I wish I could have a boundary like that—"Hey, you gave me pizza once; you can go ahead and like my vacation photos."
Anyone here stuck in a group chat you can't escape? There's always that one friend who forwards the exact same video one hundred times, and everybody else thinks it's the highlight of their week. I just mute my phone like it's an ex sending memes at 2 a.m. Then I wake up at dawn, bleary-eyed, thinking, "What did I miss?" I open my phone—and it's Bob celebrating his new air-fryer chicken recipe for the fifth time. Meanwhile, I burned my eggs so badly this morning that my smoke alarm filed a restraining order against me.
I decided to get in shape. I downloaded one of those workout apps promising "six-pack abs in six weeks." After day one, I collected six new excuses why I can't work out:
Yesterday I finally ran so hard I passed out. When I came to, my neighbor was standing over me yelling, "You know you're not supposed to lean on lampposts, right?" I told him, "As soon as lampposts start offering aerodynamic support, I'll consider trusting them."
Alright, folks, that's my time. If you ever feel judged by a machine or betrayed by a group chat, come find me—I'll be the one in the self-checkout line, trying to convince a barcode scanner that kale is, in fact, a food. Thanks so much—you've been awesome!
Alright, settle in, settle in! (Looks around, adjusts mic)
So, I'm trying to get healthier, right? We all go through this phase. My doctor, bless his cotton socks, tells me, "You need more fiber." Okay, doc, noted. So I'm at the grocery store, looking at the cereal aisle. It's like a library of cardboard promises. And there's this one box, it practically GLOWS with health. Pictures of wheat fields, happy families frolicking, probably a gentle farmhouse in the background. The name is something like "Nature's Intestinal Broom."
(Mimics picking up box, squinting) And the ingredients list? It reads like a threatened species list for plants I've never heard of. "Psyllium husk, chicory root, flaxseed meal, a sprinkle of existential dread..." Okay, maybe not the last one, but it felt like it. I buy it. I'm committed.
Next morning, I pour a bowl. It looks... like gravel. Like something you'd find at the bottom of a hamster cage after a long weekend. But I'm brave! I add milk. It doesn't soften. It just... sits there, judging me. Every spoonful is like chewing on tiny, virtuous pebbles. And the sound! (Makes crunching, scraping sound near mic). It's like my teeth are filing a complaint with my stomach.
And here's the thing no one tells you about high-fiber cereal. It's not just about the... aftermath. It's the during-math. You're sitting at your desk, trying to look professional, and your stomach starts making noises like there's a small, angry badger trying to escape. (Clutches stomach, looks alarmed) People in meetings are looking at me. "You alright there, Dave?" "Oh, yeah, fine! Just... processing... Nature's Broom. Very efficiently."
Then there's my smart speaker. I love it, I hate it. It's like having a toddler who's also a Mensa genius. The other day, I'm making coffee, half asleep, and I mumble, "Alexa, what's the weather?" And it just goes, "I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that." So I try again, clearer. "ALEXA. WEATHER." Silence. Then, from the other room, my other smart speaker, the one in the bedroom I forgot was on, pipes up, "Currently, it's 58 degrees and cloudy with a chance of YOU NEEDING TO SPEAK UP, KAREN."
First off, my name isn't Karen. Second, who programmed the sass module?! And now I'm convinced they talk to each other when I'm not home. "Did you hear him this morning? Couldn't even ask for the weather. Pathetic." "Totally. And he still hasn't fixed that leaky faucet. I've put it on his to-do list 17 times."
It's a weird world, man. We're eating hamster food and getting roasted by our appliances. Anyway, my doctor will be thrilled. My intestines are practically swept clean. Probably find a few lost socks in there.
Thanks, you've been great! I'll be here all week, or until my smart speakers stage a coup!
Recreate an interactive, nostalgic Pokémon battle UI in a single HTML file.
Tests an AI's ability to create interactive web elements
Tests an AI's ability to create a detailed world map in SVG format
Generate a single-page, self-contained HTML webapp using Tailwind CSS for a randomly chosen category/industry/niche.
Generate SVG art of a randomly chosen animal in a setting of its choosing.
Recreate a classic, retro, macOS Desktop UI — make it interactive and nostalgic, make it as interactive as you can, you can be creative.. Feel free to showcase your skills. The entire application must be a single-page self-contained HTML file.
