Log In


Reset Password

Going ape for 100 men vs. 1 gorilla

Let’s talk about the internet’s latest obsession that doesn’t involve cats or conspiracy theories: Who would win in a fight — 100 unarmed men or one silverback gorilla?

Now, before you say, “Obviously, the gorilla,” allow me to present a case for Team Human. Not because I believe in our physical superiority (trust me, I’ve seen a man lose a fight to a Roomba) but because we’ve got numbers, teamwork and the eternal power of being kind of annoying.

The “100 men vs. gorilla” debate was born on Reddit and raised on TikTok, nurtured by people who clearly have never seen a gorilla or 100 men do anything in unison. It exploded online because, deep down, we love weird hypotheticals.

“What if we fought a bear with pool noodles?” “Could 100 toddlers defeat a tiger?” Those are normal weekday thoughts.

And let’s be honest, this is just a modern reboot of “David vs. Goliath” — except David brought 99 of his drunk cousins from the local softball team.

OK, facts first. A silverback gorilla is an absolute unit: up to 500 pounds of pure muscle, a 1,300 pounds per square inch bite force (that’s more than a lion), and the upper body strength to throw a fridge across the room just because it forgot the mayo. Experts estimate they are four to 10 times stronger than the average human. Basically, a gorilla could rip your arms off and then use them to beat your friends.

But, and this is key, it’s still just one gorilla. One. Uno.

Now let’s meet our champions: 100 average guys. No weapons. No special training. Just 100 men who own at least one pair of cargo shorts.

Individually? Useless. Collectively? Still mostly useless. But it’s a lot of bodies. That’s enough people to start a flash mob, fill a school bus or run a disappointing kickball league. If half of them act as bait, a quarter pile on the gorilla, and the other 25 hide behind a tree texting their moms, we might just have a shot.

Plus, humans have two big advantages.

While gorillas are sprinters, we’re marathoners. The average human (not me) can jog for hours. The gorilla? More of a CrossFit guy — bursts of energy followed by a nap and a protein shake.

Humans invented chess, D-Day and fantasy football drafts. We can coordinate, strategize, and most importantly, we can do that thing where we all rush in yelling “NOW!” while the gorilla is distracted by a guy named Brad doing jumping jacks.

The first 10 men? Gone. Instantly. Let’s not sugarcoat it. But while the gorilla’s busy using Steve #4 as a javelin, the rest regroup. They take shifts. They wear it down. Some start chanting. Others climb trees for moral support. Someone opens a cooler full of Capri Suns.

Eventually, the gorilla gets tired. Maybe even confused. (“Why are they high-fiving?”) That’s when the final 20 men form the Mega Swarm — a coordinated human dogpile of elbows and knees. Humanity wins. Barely. Limping. Missing two eyebrows. But we win.

Is this dumb? Absolutely. Could it work? Possibly. Will several of the 100 men be sacrificed in spectacularly cartoonish fashion? Undoubtedly.

But at the end of the day, this debate isn’t about gorillas or guys named Chad. It’s about belief. It’s about the absurd power of cooperation. And it’s about the hope that no matter how strong the beast, we can overcome it — especially if we show up in large numbers and at least one guy brought snacks.