Product preview: four phones stacked face-down on a table, a live room timer at forty-two minutes with four members, a break-detection alert as one member lifts their phone, an experience gain of four hundred and twenty points, and a weekly leaderboard.
Every notification
steals a little of your
attention.
It never arrives as a crisis. It arrives twenty-three seconds at a time, until an evening with people you love is something you half-remember.
Focus was never a willpower problem.
You already know what you should be doing. You have known all along. What you have never had is someone in the room who notices the moment you drift.
A timer you can silence. A promise nobody hears you break.
Four people watching the same clock. Suddenly it holds.
Product preview: a solo session barely holding, a shared room holding at ninety-four percent, a break-detection alert and an experience gain.
It is an accountability problem.
Phones down.
Room live.
Stack'd is a real-time multiplayer room. Every tilt, lift and screen wake is detected on-device and broadcast to everyone at the table the instant it happens.
- Tilt
Multi-axis accelerometer drift, reported the instant it happens.
- Lift
The phone leaves the stack. The room knows before you sit back down.
- Wake
Screen-on events break the hold — no quiet exits, no private cheats.
Product preview: a live Stack'd room with a sixty-minute timer, four participants — three holding, one lifted — and real-time tilt, lift and screen wake detection.
Sessions become streaks. Streaks become who you are.
Hold the room, and the payoff compounds — experience, badges, and a table that expects you to show up present.
Seventeen consecutive days where the table chose silence first.
Every held minute compounds. Presence becomes a number you can watch grow.
- First StackHeld a full session
- UnbrokenZero breaches, 10 rooms
- Night TableSix dinners, phones down
The room witnesses it. That is what makes it stick.
The room stands. Phones come back. Something in the air stayed different.
Held / Protocol.01The room speaks for itself.
Field Reports / Ongoing“We stacked at dinner. Nobody touched their phone for ninety minutes. I forgot what that felt like.”
“The shared timer is the unlock. It stops being willpower and starts being a game.”
“My team uses it before every review. The room is sharper. The arguments are better.”
“First Sunday brunch in a year where I remember what my sister actually said.”
“Chai on the terrace, four friends, phones stacked. Felt like college again.”
“Our design crit finally had silence in it. The critiques got braver.”
“Coded for two hours straight without a single Slack peek. Shipped the migration.”
“Sunday lunch with amma and appa. Nobody reached for a phone once.”
“Board meeting ran an hour shorter. Nobody scrolled. Nobody drifted.”
“I stopped calling it a detox. It's just how we hang out now.”
“We stacked at dinner. Nobody touched their phone for ninety minutes. I forgot what that felt like.”
“The shared timer is the unlock. It stops being willpower and starts being a game.”
“My team uses it before every review. The room is sharper. The arguments are better.”
“First Sunday brunch in a year where I remember what my sister actually said.”
“Chai on the terrace, four friends, phones stacked. Felt like college again.”
“Our design crit finally had silence in it. The critiques got braver.”
“Coded for two hours straight without a single Slack peek. Shipped the migration.”
“Sunday lunch with amma and appa. Nobody reached for a phone once.”
“Board meeting ran an hour shorter. Nobody scrolled. Nobody drifted.”
“I stopped calling it a detox. It's just how we hang out now.”
Presence is the
new luxury.
Stack'd isn't another focus timer — it's a shared commitment to being present. Non-digital space is a human right, and it is the one thing nobody can sell back to you.
Read the manifesto →Every dot is a table somewhere choosing presence over noise — anonymously, atomically, in sync.
Product preview: a completed session — sixty minutes held, one break, a focus score of ninety-four.
Put the phone down.Pick the room up.
One room. Six characters. The rest is silence you get to keep.