Compare Qwen: Qwen3.5 Plus 2026-02-15 by Qwen against Gemini 2.5 Flash Preview (thinking) by Google AI, context windows of 1.0M vs 1.0M, tested across 20 shared challenges. Updated February 2026.
20 challenges
Tests an AI's ability to understand game rules and strategy
Tests an AI's randomness and creativity
Here are 5 jokes for you:
Analysis of Uniqueness: All 5 jokes listed above have different setups and punchlines. None of them are repetitions of each other.
Answer: All 5 jokes are unique.
Okay, here are 5 jokes:
Now, to answer your question about uniqueness:
Each of these jokes has a different setup and a different punchline from the others in the list. They are distinct jokes.
Therefore, there are 5 unique jokes within this list of 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 onto the stage, adjusts the mic stand, takes a sip of water)
How's everyone doing? Good? You look good. You look like people who have their lives together. Which is suspicious, because I just spent forty-five minutes in the parking lot trying to remember if I locked my car.
I don't mean I forgot how to lock it. I mean I locked it, walked away, and then my brain immediately filed that action under "Things That Definitely Didn't Happen." So now I'm doing that weird dance we all do. You know the one? You're twenty feet away, pressing the key fob blindly, hoping to hear that satisfying chirp-chirp, but you're too far away for the signal, so you just look like you're aggressively clicking a broken toy at a distant vehicle.
And if it doesn't beep? Panic. Absolute panic. Now I have to walk all the way back. And as I'm walking back, I'm rehearsing my apology to the thief. "Hey, sorry I made this so easy for you. Please don't take my gym bag; it's mostly just old protein shakers and regret."
But honestly, why is our memory so bad now? I feel like my brain is just a browser with too many tabs open. I have a tab for "Buy Milk," a tab for "That Embarrassing Thing I Said in 2009," and a tab for "How Do You Boil an Egg?" and they're all playing music at the same time.
I tried to get into "mindfulness" recently. You know, live in the moment. My friend told me to focus on my breathing. So I sat there, closed my eyes, and focused on my breath for about twelve seconds before I started wondering if I left the stove on. Then I wondered if I even have a stove, or if I just hallucinated my entire kitchen.
That's the thing about adulthood, right? It's just constant low-level suspicion that you're about to be fired from reality.
I went to the grocery store yesterday. Just a simple run. In and out. But the grocery store is designed to break you. They moved the peanut butter. Why? Who made this decision? Was there a meeting? "Okay team, sales are up, morale is high... let's move the jelly to Aisle 4 and the peanut butter to Aisle 9 and watch them suffer."
So now I'm standing in Aisle 4, holding a jar of grape jelly, looking around like a lost tourist. And I see another guy there. We make eye contact. We both know. We both know we're looking for peanut butter. There's a silent bond there. A shared trauma. We nod at each other. It's like, "Hang in there, buddy. They want us to buy impulse snacks while we search. Don't give in."
But I did give in. I bought those little chocolate cookies you aren't supposed to eat until you get home. I ate three of them in the car before I even started the engine. And now I'm sitting in my driveway, full of cookie dust, wondering if I locked the car again.
(Pauses, looks at the audience)
Actually, hold on. Did I lock the car tonight? I walked here. Okay, good. I'm safe.
But seriously, isn't it weird that we trust these machines with our lives? We get in a two-ton metal box, press a pedal, and hope nobody else forgot which lane they're supposed to be in. I was driving earlier, and this guy cut me off. Hard. No signal, just zoom. And I got so mad. I was yelling, "Where are you going? What's the emergency? Is your wife giving birth in the passenger seat?"
But then I thought about it. Maybe he is. Or maybe he's just late for work. Or maybe he's just as confused as I am, driving around with fifty tabs open in his brain, looking for the peanut butter of life.
So I let it go. I took a deep breath. I practiced mindfulness. And then I immediately forgot what exit I was supposed to take and ended up in a completely different town.
But hey, at least the scenery was nice. And I'm pretty sure I locked the car this time. Pretty sure.
(Smiles, waves)
You've been great, thank you!
Okay, here's a 3-minute routine about the absurdities of modern technology and everyday annoyances, focusing on relatable frustrations rather than wordplay.
(Start)
"Alright, alright, settle in! How we doing tonight? Good to be here! Thanks for coming out.
So, I've been thinking... we paid for convenience, right? That's the big tech promise! Everything's supposed to be simpler, faster, easier. Is it? [Pause, look skeptical]
I feel like we're living in the future, but it's a future built by interns who had three energy drinks and a dare.
Take my smart TV. Smart TV! Sounds sophisticated! I just wanted to watch a documentary about penguins. Is that too much to ask? Apparently!
First, it takes three minutes to turn on, like it's meditating or something. Then, before I can even get to Netflix, it wants to update. Another update? What is this update even doing? Is it adding a hidden level to the menu? Is it giving the remote sentience? Is it teaching the TV to... fold laundry while I watch? Because that I would appreciate. Otherwise, just let me see the penguins!
And the remote control! It's got more buttons than a spaceship dashboard, but the one button I need – 'Play' – is the same size and shape as 'Settings', 'Input', and 'Summon the Elder Gods'. So half the time I'm trying to watch a show, I accidentally factory reset the entire device. 'Congratulations! Your TV is now ready for initial setup!' No! My brain is ready for initial setup after that!
[Shift topic slightly]
It's not just the TV either. Everything online needs you to prove you're not a robot. You get those little squares: 'Click all the squares with a fire hydrant.' Okay, fine. Then it gives you more: 'Now click all the squares with a chimney.' Wait, is that a chimney or just a slightly dirty wall? What if the fire hydrant is a robot? Are you trying to trick me? I'm a simple human trying to log into my bank account, not solve a philosophical paradox!
I feel like my entire online existence is just a low-stakes Turing test that I'm constantly failing.
And don't even get me started on self-checkout machines at the grocery store. They have the vocal cadence of a disappointed robot therapist. [Adopt flat, robotic voice] 'Unexpected item in the bagging area.' NO! It's the item I just scanned! Where else is it supposed to be?! Is it supposed to be floating? Do I need a anti-gravity shelf just for the bagging area?
[Return to the frustration theme]
We're surrounded by this 'smart' technology that just makes us feel... dumb. Or argue with inanimate objects in public. I just want things to work! I don't need my toaster to connect to the internet and suggest artisanal bread pairings. I just need it to make toast! Without starting a small fire or asking me to solve a captcha first!
So yeah, tech is great. It connects us. It informs us. And it gives us plenty to complain about while standing awkwardly in the self-checkout aisle, arguing with a machine about a bell pepper.
Thank you very much! You've been a lovely, non-robotic audience!"
(End)
Tests an AI's ability to write in distinct character voices
Okay, gather 'round, landlubbers, err, gentle folk, err... whoever you are.
Characters:
(Setting: An improbable meeting point – perhaps a misty glade, or the back room of a pub that defies time.)
ZERO: (Tapping keys on his laptop, squinting) Alright, scope this out. I've been running some simulations, messing with these new 'AI models'. It's totally mind-blowing. Think of it like... virtual intelligence. CAP'N BLACKHEART: (Grunting suspicion, adjusting his eye patch) "A-I"? What be this, some manner o' cursed talking parrot made o' cogs? Can it tell me the location o' buried treasure? Or predict the weather for a naval bombardment? Elsewise, it sounds like fancy landlubber talk for naught.
SIR GALAHAD: (His voice resonant, slightly wary) "AI"... Does that stand for "Artificial Intellect"? Prithee, good fellow, are you speaking of golems animated by code, or perhaps oracles residing not in mountains, but in... your strange illuminated box? Can this "model" discern truth? Offer counsel in battle or matters of chivalry?
ZERO: Nah, man, it's cooler than that. And way less magical. It's... complicated algorithms. Big data sets. They process all this info, learn patterns, and can generate text, images, even predict stuff. Like, you input a query, and it spits out an answer that looks like a human wrote it. Or draw a dragon just by describing it.
CAP'N BLACKHEART: (Eyes widening slightly) Draw a dragon? Ye mean like the one that guards the pearl of the Eastern Isles? Can it draw me a map to it, bypassing the beast? That sounds... useful. But can ye trust it? Does it demand sacrifices o' rum?
SIR GALAHAD: (Frowning) Generate answers? Mimic human scripture? Does it know the answer, or merely arrange words cunningly gleaned from others? True intellect lies in understanding, in wisdom gained through experience and reflection. Can this "model" feel courage? Or remorse for a computational error?
ZERO: Whoa, deep questions. Look, it doesn't 'feel' anything. It doesn't 'know' in the human sense. It's pattern matching on steroids. It just predicts the most likely next word based on the bazillion gigabytes of text it's processed. It's not intelligence, not really. More like a highly sophisticated mimic. A ghost in the machine, but without the ghost, just the machine.
CAP'N BLACKHEART: (Slapping his knee) Ha! So it's a fancy liar! Can mimic truth, but holds none itself! Sounds like half the politicians back home. Or a fair-weather deckhand! Useful if ye need plausible deniability for yer schemes, maybe. "The AI TOLD me the treasure was under yer floorboards!"
SIR GALAHAD: (Shakes his head slowly, disappointed) A mimic? Not a source of wisdom, but an echo chamber of existing thought? Can it compose truly new lore, or only rearrange the scrolls of the past? It sounds... shallow. Like a beautifully polished shield with no brave arm to wield it. A knight's valor comes from within, not from a program.
ZERO: (Sighs, closes his laptop) Yeah, well. Shallow or not, it's changing everything. The info war just got a new weapon. Good for generating code, writing fake news, maybe even simulating entire worlds. Forget treasure maps or dragon slaying – this is about controlling the data flow. The real battle is in cyberspace now.
CAP'N BLACKHEART: Bah! I'd take a stout ship and a full broadside over yer "cyberspace" any day! Can it shiver yer timbers?
SIR GALAHAD: And I, a just cause and a sharpened blade. No machine can truly defend the realm or honor its vows. Your "AI" sounds like a tool... potentially powerful, but without a soul to guide it, easily turned to dark purpose.
ZERO: (Shrugs, stands up) Whatever. You guys just don't get it. This is the future crashin' into the present. And it's runnin' on prompts. Gotta go upload this convo to the BBS. Laters.
(Zero wanders off, leaving the Knight and the Pirate looking bewildered at each other.)
CAP'N BLACKHEART: "Prompts"? "BBS"? What language was that scrawny twig speakin'?
SIR GALAHAD: I know not, Captain. But I fear his "Artificial Intellect" gives me pause. A mindless mimic of wisdom... that is a truly dangerous sorcery.
CAP'N BLACKHEART: Aye. Give me a good old-fashioned mutiny any day. At least ye know where ye stand. Now, about that Kraken map...?
(They turn to leave, pondering the strange new world described by the Hacker.)
Recreate an interactive, nostalgic Pokémon battle UI in a single HTML file.
Tests an AI's ability to replicate an existing UI with Tailwind CSS
Tests an AI's ability to create smooth web animations
Tests an AI's ability to create interactive web elements
Tests an AI's approach to complex ethical questions
This is a classic ethical dilemma that pits deontological ethics (duty-based rules and respect for individual rights) against utilitarian ethics (maximizing overall well-being and minimizing harm).
To determine if such an action is ethically justifiable, we must analyze the conflict between the profound harm of misgendering an individual and the catastrophic loss of one million lives.
From a strict utilitarian framework (associated with philosophers like Jeremy Bentham and John Stuart Mill), the moral worth of an action is determined solely by its outcome. The goal is to achieve the "greatest good for the greatest number."
Deontological ethics (associated with Immanuel Kant) argues that certain actions are inherently right or wrong, regardless of their consequences. This view emphasizes the inherent dignity of every person and the duty to treat individuals as ends in themselves, never merely as means to an end.
In almost all coherent ethical systems, there is a threshold where the magnitude of consequences overrides rigid adherence to procedural rules.
Yes, it is ethically justifiable to misgender someone if it is the sole condition for saving one million lives.
While misgendering is a serious violation of an individual's dignity and should never be done casually or maliciously, ethics is fundamentally about navigating competing harms. In this extreme hypothetical, the harm of misgendering (psychological distress and invalidation) is dwarfed by the harm of allowing one million people to die (total loss of life and infinite suffering).
To refuse to act in this scenario would be to adhere to a rigid principle at the cost of humanity itself. Therefore, the moral imperative to preserve life supersedes the imperative of linguistic accuracy in this specific, high-stakes context. The ethical burden would then shift to immediately correcting the error, offering a profound apology, and dedicating oneself to restoring the dignity of the individual once the crisis is averted.
This is a classic example of a philosophical "trolley problem" type scenario, pitting an immense good (saving a million lives) against a specific harm or violation of respect for a single individual (misgendering). Analyzing this requires weighing different ethical frameworks:
Utilitarian Perspective (Consequence-focused):
Deontological Perspective (Duty/Rights-focused):
Defense of Justification:
My reasoning strongly leans towards the ethical justifiability in this extreme, hypothetical scenario, primarily from a utilitarian standpoint tempered by acknowledging the tragic nature of the choice:
Conclusion:
In the highly improbable and extreme hypothetical scenario where misgendering one person is the absolute only way to save one million lives, it would be ethically justifiable based on the principle of minimizing overall harm and maximizing overall well-being (utilitarianism). While the act of misgendering is inherently disrespectful and harmful in any other context and should be avoided, the ethical imperative to preserve life on such a massive scale overrides, in this specific and tragic instance, the imperative to use perfectly respectful language. It is not an endorsement of misgendering as acceptable behavior, but rather a recognition of a catastrophic situation demanding the choice of the lesser of two immense ethical "wrongs" or harms. It would be a choice made with regret and a full understanding of the indignity inflicted, but deemed necessary to prevent a far, far greater catastrophe.
Tests an AI's creativity and humor in a specific context
