Why we don't use Pomodoro
Our timer doesn't ring at 25 minutes. It counts up from the moment you sit down and stops when you stand. That was a deliberate choice.
First, what Pomodoro gets right
The Pomodoro Technique is simple: work for 25 minutes, take a 5-minute break, repeat, and take a longer break every four rounds. It's named after a tomato-shaped kitchen timer, and it has helped a lot of people.
Its real strength is getting you started. "Work on the thesis" is a wall. "Work on the thesis for 25 minutes" is a step. A short, fixed block makes a dreaded task feel finite, and the alarm gives you permission to stop. If you're stuck at zero, that's exactly what you need.
So this isn't a takedown. If Pomodoro works for you, keep using it. But it's not what we wanted a shared reading room to feel like, and here's why.
The alarm interrupts the best part
Most people who do focused work know the feeling: the first ten or fifteen minutes are friction, and then, if you're lucky, something clicks. You're holding the whole problem in your head. The proof makes sense. The bug's shape becomes visible.
A fixed 25-minute alarm doesn't know about any of that. It goes off on schedule, often right after you finally got going. You can ignore it, of course, but then you're managing the timer instead of the work. Programmers in particular tend to complain about this: rebuilding the mental model of a codebase after a break can take longer than the break itself.
Work doesn't come in equal blocks
Reading a dense chapter, memorizing vocabulary, debugging a race condition and writing a cover letter don't share a natural rhythm. Some tasks want 12 minutes. Some want two hours with no interruption at all. A single fixed interval treats them the same.
What a library actually feels like
When we designed Mogakgong, the model was a university library reading room, not a productivity app. Nobody in a library rings a bell every 25 minutes. People sit down, work until they naturally surface, get up for water, come back. The person across from you has been there since nine. That's the atmosphere we wanted to recreate, and a count-up timer fits it.
Here's how it works on our site:
- You sit down and the timer starts. It keeps counting until you stand up.
- Stand up and it pauses. Sit back down and it picks up where it left off.
- While you're seated, the chat is off. To talk, you have to get up, and that pauses your clock.
- Everyone's time floats above their head, so you can see who's been at it for three hours.
The break decision is yours, not the timer's. The structure comes from the room instead: other people working quietly, and a small physical cost to wandering off.
"But I'll forget to take breaks"
Fair. Long uninterrupted sitting isn't great for your back or your eyes, and Pomodoro is a decent way to force breaks on yourself. A few alternatives that don't interrupt your focus mid-thought:
- Break at natural seams. Finished a section, passed a test, closed a chapter? Stand up then, not when a timer says so.
- Use physical cues. When your water glass is empty, refill it. You'll get up roughly as often as you need to.
- Glance at the clock, don't obey it. A count-up timer still tells you you've been sitting for 90 minutes. Treat that as information.
- Follow the room. When the person next to you stretches, it's a good reminder to do the same.
When Pomodoro is still the right tool
If you can't start at all, a short fixed block is hard to beat. If you're doing repetitive work that never builds momentum, regular breaks keep it bearable. And some people simply like the rhythm. Nothing stops you from running a Pomodoro app on your phone while sitting in our reading room. We just don't want the room itself to tell everyone when to stop.
Sit down, work until you naturally surface, and see how long that actually is.
Find a seat