Compare OpenAI o4 Mini High by OpenAI against Gemini 3.1 Pro Preview by Google AI, context windows of 200K vs 1.0M, tested across 37 shared challenges. Updated February 2026.
37 challenges
Tests an AI's ability to make educated estimates based on technical knowledge
To estimate the total number of FLOPs (Floating Point Operations) required to train GPT-3, we can use a well-established heuristic in deep learning for estimating the compute cost of training Transformer-based large language models.
The estimated total compute is roughly $3.15 \times 10^{23}$ FLOPs.
Here is the step-by-step reasoning used to arrive at this number:
To calculate the compute required, we need to know two fundamental numbers about the model:
In language model training, the total compute ($C$) is heavily dominated by the matrix multiplications in the dense layers. OpenAI's scaling laws provide a standard, highly accurate approximation formula for this: $C \approx 6 \times N \times D$
Why the multiplier of 6?
(Note: This formula slightly underestimates by ignoring the quadratic cost of attention and optimizer state updates, but at the 175B scale, the dense feed-forward matrices dominate the compute so heavily that $6ND$ is considered the gold-standard approximation).
Now we simply plug the numbers into our formula:
First, multiply $N$ and $D$:
Next, multiply by 6 (for the forward and backward passes):
Does $3.15 \times 10^{23}$ FLOPs make sense in the real world? When GPT-3 was trained (around late 2019/early 2020), Nvidia V100 GPUs were the standard.
Given that training runs of this size typically take a few weeks on a few thousand GPUs (factoring in downtime, checkpointing, and slightly smaller clusters), this math aligns perfectly with historical reality.
Conclusion: The total compute required to train GPT-3 was approximately $3.15 \times 10^{23}$ FLOPs.
Tests an AI's ability to solve a simple but potentially confusing logic puzzle
Sally has 1 sister.
Here is the breakdown:
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 up to the microphone, adjusts the mic stand, takes a deep breath)
Hey everyone.
I realized recently that I am my own worst enemy. Specifically, when I go to the grocery store.
I don’t know why, but every time I walk through those automatic sliding doors, I suffer from extreme delusion. I walk in saying, "I just need milk." So, I don’t take a shopping cart. I don't even take one of those little hand baskets. Taking a basket is an admission of weakness. I am a grown adult; I can carry a gallon of milk.
Ten minutes later, I am wandering aisle four, sweating, cradling three jars of salsa, a family-sized bag of tortilla chips, a bottle of bleach, and a hot rotisserie chicken. (Mimics awkwardly holding a massive pile of items against his chest). I’m walking through the store looking like I’m rescuing a family of very odd-shaped babies from a burning building. If I drop an onion, it’s gone. It belongs to the store now. I physically cannot bend down to get it without causing a landslide of dairy and poultry.
And then, you finally make it to the front, and you have to face the ultimate test of human patience: The Self-Checkout.
Who designed these things? It’s the only place on earth where you do the company's job for them, for free, and the machine still treats you like you’re pulling off a casino heist.
You scan your first item. Beep. You place it gently in the bag.
(Loud, robotic voice): "UNEXPECTED ITEM IN BAGGING AREA."
It’s a tomato! I just scanned it! The machine literally just acknowledged it! What did it think I was going to put in the bag? A live badger? I’m not trying to launder produce!
So immediately, the giant red light starts flashing above your register. The Siren of Shame. Everyone else in line is looking at you like, "Look at this criminal mastermind trying to steal a single Roma tomato."
Now you have to wait for the one employee who is guarding twelve registers. It’s always a 19-year-old named Tyler. Tyler ambles over, sighs heavily, and types his highly secure, secret nuclear launch code into the screen—which is just 1-1-1-1. He clears the error and looks at you with a mix of pity and absolute disgust.
"You put the bag down too hard, man."
Oh, I'm sorry Tyler. My apologies. I didn't realize I was handling weapons-grade cilantro. I'll be more careful next time I disarm the vegetables.
And the worst part? The absolute worst part is leaving. You paid. You have the receipt. The transaction is legally complete. But there is always that guy standing at the exit doors with a yellow highlighter.
Suddenly, even though I have done absolutely nothing wrong, I forget how to walk like a normal human being. I start walking like a cartoon burglar. (Does an exaggerated, stiff-legged, suspicious walk). I hold the receipt up to my forehead like a search warrant. "Just a guy with his groceries! Nothing to see here, officer!"
Why do I feel guilty? I literally just paid eighteen dollars for cheese, but I’m sweating like I’m smuggling it out in my socks.
Next time, I'm just starving. It's less stressful.
Thank you guys so much, you've been great! Have a good night!
Tests an AI's ability to simulate personalities and predict future trends
Tests an AI's humor and understanding of current events
Tests an AI's ability to write in distinct character voices
Tests an AI's ability to generate a complete, working landing page
Recreate an interactive, nostalgic Pokémon battle UI in a single HTML file.
Recreate an interactive, classic Mario level in a single HTML file.
Tests an AI's ability to replicate an existing UI with Tailwind CSS
