Pizza
The durability of pizza as a concept borders on the philosophically remarkable. Individual pizzas decompose, certainly—left unrefrigerated, a pizza will become inedible within hours and dangerous within days. Yet the idea of pizza proves utterly indestructible. Every attempt to replace it with healthier alternatives has failed. The low-carbohydrate movement of the early 2000s should have decimated pizza consumption; instead, cauliflower crusts emerged, and pizza adapted, survived, and ultimately thrived.
Pizza has weathered economic recessions, wars, pandemics, and shifting dietary fashions with remarkable equanimity. It existed before the internet and will almost certainly exist after whatever replaces the internet. The conceptual durability of pizza approaches that of fundamental human needs—shelter, companionship, meaning. It is not merely a food but a fixture of civilisation itself.
Wolverine
Wolverine's durability is, of course, literally legendary. His mutant healing factor allows recovery from virtually any injury—gunshots, explosions, even nuclear blasts. The adamantium bonded to his skeleton makes his bones unbreakable. In canonical Marvel narratives, he has survived for over 130 years, participating in major conflicts from the American Civil War to the present day. His physical resilience is unprecedented in fictional biology.
Yet Wolverine has also demonstrated remarkable cultural durability. Created in 1974, he has survived multiple comic book deaths, reboots, and the general fickleness of audience attention. He has transitioned from comic panels to animated series to blockbuster films without losing essential character integrity. However, fictional characters remain vulnerable to cultural irrelevance in ways that pizza does not—Wolverine requires continued creative investment to maintain prominence.