We all love a good brain teaser, especially when it involves math—whether we admit it or not. A tricky math problem recently went viral, leaving the internet divided and proving once again that even simple-looking equations can be deceptive.
My Math Struggles & A Challenge
Here’s a quick personal anecdote: I recently started preparing for the GRE and realized that I hadn’t taken a formal math class in nearly nine years. Confidence? Gone. My quantitative reasoning skills? Rusty at best. So, I decided to brush up by taking online high school math courses, starting from the absolute basics.
When I came across this viral math puzzle that was stumping the internet, I thought, “This is my moment! Let’s see if I still have my 9th-grade math chops!” Spoiler: I did not.
The Viral Math Puzzle Taking the Internet by Storm
The problem originally surfaced in Japan, where researchers found that only 60% of people in their 20s managed to solve it correctly. It quickly spread online, turning into yet another viral challenge because, apparently, we love testing our brains with tricky equations (or we just enjoy arguing over the answers).
At first glance, the problem looks simple. But the devil is in the details. My gut told me there was some sort of trick involved—it seemed too easy. However, instead of embarrassing myself by attempting it publicly, I turned to the internet for guidance. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that someone, somewhere, has already tackled your problem and made an instructional video about it. So, I spent my morning watching people do math on YouTube. Exciting stuff.
The Math Problem:
6 ÷ 2(1 + 2) = ?
Go ahead, solve it. I’ll wait.
Video : Viral problem from Japan
Common Wrong Answers
If you got 1 or 9, you’re not alone. Many people arrived at these answers because of a little acronym called PEMDAS (Parentheses, Exponents, Multiplication, Division, Addition, Subtraction).
You may remember PEMDAS from school—or perhaps the mnemonic “Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally.” The rule dictates that you must solve problems in this specific order:
- Parentheses
- Exponents
- Multiplication & Division (from left to right)
- Addition & Subtraction (from left to right)
So, following PEMDAS, some people calculated it as:
- Solve inside the parentheses: (1 + 2) = 3
- Rewrite the problem: 6 ÷ 2(3)
- Some then treated 2(3) as a single term and multiplied first: 6 ÷ 6 = 1
However, others applied division before multiplication:
- 6 ÷ 2 = 3
- Then, 3 × 3 = 9
Both groups were confident in their logic, but only one approach was correct.
The Correct Answer
The correct answer is 9. Here’s why:
Step 1: Solve the Parentheses First
(1 + 2) = 3
Now the equation is rewritten as:
6 ÷ 2(3)
Step 2: Follow the Order of Operations
According to PEMDAS, division and multiplication are performed from left to right (since they share the same level of priority in the hierarchy).
- 6 ÷ 2 = 3
- 3 × 3 = 9
Wait… Isn’t the Answer 1?
Some people argue that implicit multiplication (like 2(3)) takes precedence over division. However, modern mathematical notation treats multiplication and division equally. Since they appear side by side in the equation, we solve left to right.
If the equation had been written as:
6 ÷ (2 × 3)
Then, you would multiply first and get:
6 ÷ 6 = 1
But because the given equation lacks parentheses around 2(3), the correct answer remains 9.
Why People Get It Wrong
The confusion stems from different ways of interpreting notation and how we were taught order of operations. In some older textbooks, implicit multiplication (like 2(3)) was given higher priority than division, leading to the alternative answer of 1. However, under modern mathematical conventions, division and multiplication hold equal weight and should be solved left to right.
Video : 13 Riddles That Are Trickier Than They Seem
Math Rules Are Not Always Universal
Believe it or not, different countries and academic institutions teach math slightly differently. Some older math textbooks might suggest treating multiplication next to parentheses as having higher priority, while others follow the standard left-to-right rule. This is why debates like this never really die down—people were simply taught different methods!
How to Avoid Future Math Confusion
- Always follow the standard order of operations – PEMDAS (or BODMAS, if you learned it that way).
- If in doubt, add brackets – Parentheses make everything clearer and help prevent confusion.
- Be consistent – If you’re solving problems with others, use the same approach so that everyone gets the same answer.
- Check multiple sources – Sometimes, even textbooks disagree. Looking at different explanations can help clarify tricky concepts.
Final Thoughts
This viral math problem is a perfect example of how simple-looking equations can spark endless debate. The way you approach it depends on how you learned math, but if you apply PEMDAS correctly, the answer is 9—at least according to current conventions.
So, did you get it right, or are you questioning everything you thought you knew about math? Either way, at least we can all agree that math is a lot trickier than it looks!
Businessman Loses All Hope After His Diagnosis, but One Hospital Encounter Changes Everything — Story of the Day
When a workaholic businessman receives devastating news about his health, he meets a young boy in the hospital who changes his outlook on life. Their bond grows through unexpected friendship and small acts of kindness, teaching him what truly matters—until a heartbreaking twist reshapes everything.
Andrew, 50, sat at his desk, shuffling through papers while juggling scheduling meetings with his partners.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He didn’t hear Michael, his assistant, enter the room. Michael stood there, waiting. After a few moments, he cleared his throat.
No response. Andrew kept working, his focus sharp. Michael tried again. “Mr. Smith.” Still no answer. He repeated his name three more times.
Finally, Andrew slammed his hands on the desk and snapped, “What?”
Michael didn’t flinch. “You asked me to tell you if your ex-wife called.”
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Andrew groaned and rubbed his temples. “How many times do I have to tell you? Ignore her calls. What now?”
Michael held a notepad. “She left a message. I should warn you—it’s a direct quote. Her words, not mine.” He read from the note. “‘You pompous jerk, I will never forgive you for wasting so many years of my life. If you don’t give me back my painting, I’ll smash your car.’ That’s the message.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Andrew’s face turned red. “We’ve been divorced for two years! Does she not have anything better to do?”
Michael looked at him, waiting for further instructions. “Should I respond to her?”
“No! And stop taking her calls,” Andrew said. Then he paused. “Actually, tell her I threw that painting in the trash!”
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Andrew grabbed a pen and hurled it toward the wall. Michael ducked slightly, gave a polite nod, and left the room.
Moments later, Andrew’s phone rang. He frowned, picking it up.
“Andrew Smith?” a voice asked.
“Yes. Who’s calling?”
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“This is the hospital. Your test results are ready. The doctor wants to see you.”
“Can’t you just tell me now?” Andrew said, irritated. “I’m busy.”
“Sorry, sir. The doctor will explain in person.”
Andrew sighed heavily. “Fine. I’ll come in.” He hung up, shaking his head.
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Andrew rarely allowed himself the luxury of a lunch break, but this time was different. The doctor’s office was quiet, the ticking clock on the wall the only sound.
Andrew sat stiffly in a chair, his fingers tapping against the armrest. When the door opened, the doctor stepped in, his face serious. Andrew frowned, sensing bad news.
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The doctor sat across from him and spoke in a steady, measured tone, using terms Andrew didn’t understand.
Then came the word—cancer. “We need to act fast,” the doctor said.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Andrew asked, his voice sharp. “I own a company. I can’t just check into a hospital.”
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The doctor met his eyes. “Your health should come first. The company can wait.”
Andrew leaned forward. “What are my chances of getting better?”
“I can’t promise anything,” the doctor said. “Starting treatment right away is critical.”
Andrew’s voice rose. “Can I still work while I’m here?”
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“Treatment affects everyone differently,” the doctor explained. “You will stay in the hospital so we can monitor you. Someone can bring you a computer.”
Andrew frowned and stood up. “Fine. I’ll sort it out.”
The doctor watched him leave. “We’ll see you tomorrow with your things,” he said before Andrew reached the door.
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As Andrew walked through the hospital’s pediatric wing, he noticed a boy, about eight years old, tossing a ball back and forth with a nurse.
The sound of their laughter echoed in the corridor. The ball suddenly rolled across the floor and stopped near Andrew’s feet.
“Excuse me, sir!” the boy called out, smiling. “Can you please throw the ball back?”
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Andrew picked up the ball, his face tense. Without a word, he hurled it down the hall, far from the boy and nurse, then turned and walked away.
“That was mean, sir!” the boy shouted.
Andrew had been in the hospital for days that felt like weeks. He tried to keep working, setting up his laptop and pushing through meetings.
But the treatment was draining. Each session left him weaker. The nausea was constant, and sleep was nearly impossible.
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One afternoon, during another long chemotherapy session, Andrew leaned back, his eyes half-closed. He felt miserable.
Suddenly, a small voice broke through his fog. He opened his eyes to see a boy standing in front of him. Startled, Andrew flinched. The boy giggled. It was the same boy from the corridor.
“What do you want, kid?” Andrew mumbled, not even lifting his head.
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“I’ve been walking around the hospital looking for someone to play with. It’s boring here.”
Andrew glanced at him, annoyed. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Tommy,” the boy replied with a wide grin.
Andrew sighed. “Listen, Tommy. I’m not in the mood to play. Go bother someone else before I start feeling worse.”
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Tommy didn’t move. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small peppermint candy. He held it out to Andrew. “This helps with nausea. You should try it.”
Andrew hesitated, then snatched the candy and set it on the table.
“You’re really grumpy!” Tommy said, laughing. “I’m going to call you Mr. Grouch. Are you mad because you’re scared of needles?” He pointed at the IV attached to Andrew’s arm.
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Andrew frowned. “I’m not scared of anything.”
Tommy nodded. “That’s fine. I was scared at first too, but then I stopped. My mom says I’m a superhero. Do you have a superpower?”
“No,” Andrew said, his voice flat.
“That’s because you’re too sad,” Tommy replied, his tone serious now.
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Andrew looked at the boy, surprised by the honesty in his big, bright eyes. “Is there anything you want?” Andrew asked.
Tommy grinned. “Yeah. I want to buy flowers for my mom. She works really hard, but I don’t have any money.”
Andrew sighed again, reached for his wallet, and pulled out a few bills. “Here. Get your flowers. Maybe buy yourself something too. But leave me alone.”
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Tommy’s face lit up. “Thanks, Mr. Grouch!” He ran out, clutching the money, while Andrew stared at the peppermint candy on the table.
With a sigh, he picked it up, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. To his surprise, the sharp sweetness helped ease the nausea. It wasn’t much, but it made a difference for a while.
That evening, as Andrew stared at his laptop, a nurse knocked on his door.
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She carried a small paper bag. “This is for you,” she said, placing it on the table. “Tommy sent it.”
Andrew opened the bag and found it full of peppermint candies. He shook his head, unsure whether to feel amused or moved.
The next morning, he decided to find Tommy. He needed to make one thing clear: the money wasn’t a gift.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
As he approached Tommy’s room, he saw a woman leaning against the wall, her shoulders shaking. She was crying.
“Are you okay?” Andrew asked, his voice low.
The woman wiped her eyes quickly and looked up. “Yes… Did you need something?”
“Tommy gave me some candies yesterday,” Andrew said.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The woman’s lips curved into a small smile. “Oh, so you’re Mr. Grouch,” she said.
Andrew raised an eyebrow. “My name’s Andrew,” he replied.
“I’m Sara,” she said. “Are you here for treatment too?”
Andrew nodded.
“Then you understand,” Sara said quietly. “The bills, the stress. I can’t even pay rent right now. They told me we’ll be evicted in two months.”
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Andrew nodded again, unsure of what to say. Before he could respond, the door burst open. Tommy ran out, his face lighting up when he saw Andrew. “Hey, Mr. Grouch!” he called, grinning ear to ear.
From that day forward, Tommy became a constant presence in Andrew’s life.
The boy would wander into Andrew’s room with a big grin and endless energy. At first, Andrew found it annoying, but Tommy’s persistence wore him down.
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Soon, Andrew began looking forward to the visits. Tommy taught him to notice the simple joys in life.
They sat by the window, watching the sunset, guessing the colors in the sky. They played harmless pranks on nurses, earning scolding looks and stifled smiles.
Sometimes, they “borrowed” wheelchairs and raced down the halls, laughing until their sides hurt.
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Andrew didn’t ask about Tommy’s illness. He wasn’t sure how to bring it up. One afternoon, Tommy mentioned Sara had been crying again. “She’s worried about money,” Tommy said. “We might lose our house.”
Andrew quietly gave Tommy an envelope of cash. “Tell her it’s from a magician,” he said.
When Sara tried to return the money, Andrew waved her off. “I’m not a magician,” he said. “I don’t know where it came from.”
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Weeks passed. Andrew’s treatments worked, and the day came when the doctor gave him the news—he was cancer-free.
Ecstatic, Andrew rushed to share it with Tommy. But when he arrived, Tommy was unconscious, Sara sitting beside him, tears streaming down her face.
“What happened?” Andrew asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
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Sara wiped her eyes and shook her head. “The doctors said there’s nothing more they can do.”
Andrew stared at her, struggling to process the words. “But… he seemed so happy. He always smiled. I thought he was improving.”
Sara looked at him, her face full of pain. “He didn’t want you to see how sick he was. He wanted to be strong for you. He thought he was a superhero.”
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Andrew’s chest tightened. “I’m so sorry.”
Sara managed a faint smile through her tears. “Don’t be. He said you saved him. These months, you gave him laughter and hope. You made him forget about being sick.”
Andrew shook his head slowly. “No. He’s the one who saved me.”
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He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug. She cried quietly against his shoulder, and though Andrew wished he could take her pain away, he knew nothing would ever truly ease it.
That night, Tommy passed away peacefully, surrounded by the love of his mother and the memories he had made.
Andrew sat alone in his room afterward, overwhelmed by the loss. Andrew couldn’t bear the thought of such a bright soul being forgotten.
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Determined, he started a foundation in Tommy’s name to help sick children, ensuring his kindness would live on.
He also stayed in touch with Sara, offering her support in every way he could.
One afternoon, Andrew stood at his ex-wife’s door, holding the painting she had demanded for so long. She opened the door, her mouth ready to hurl accusations, but Andrew silently handed her the painting.
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“I’m not here to argue,” Andrew said, his tone calm as he held out the painting.
His ex-wife frowned, puzzled. “What is this supposed to mean?” she asked.
“Nothing important,” Andrew replied, a small smile forming. “I’m just making sure I keep my superpowers.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away.
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Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Taking care of Mom was hard enough without the tension with my sister. Accusations flew when precious things started disappearing. I thought I knew who was to blame, but the truth shattered my world. Betrayal came from where I least expected, leaving me questioning everything—and everyone—I trusted.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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