Buzzwords that make boardrooms spin and PowerPoints sing.
All the things that could possibly go wrong with a decision, quantified and documented so someone can be blamed later. In corporate settings, they're identified, assessed, mitigated, and then ignored until they become actual problems. Finance professionals love calculating them with impressive formulas that provide false precision about fundamentally unknowable futures.
The organizational layer responsible for making decisions, attending meetings about meetings, and explaining why changes are necessary while resisting any actual change. They're the people who set goals, allocate resources, and then wonder why their strategic vision doesn't survive contact with reality. Good management is invisible; bad management is the reason everyone's resume is updated.
A fancy corporate term for 'connection' that makes simple relationships sound more impressive in strategy presentations and consultant reports. It refers to how different things—processes, systems, incentives, or metrics—are mechanically or conceptually connected to produce outcomes, usually in ways that require extensive PowerPoint diagrams to explain. In executive meetings, establishing linkage between your project and revenue somehow makes budget requests more persuasive.
The formal paperwork that stands between you and that stapler you desperately need, transforming a simple request into a bureaucratic odyssey. These official demands for supplies or resources require approximately seventeen signatures and the blessing of three managers who are perpetually "in meetings." It's procurement's way of reminding you that nothing in corporate life is ever simple.
Someone who answers a call to action, whether that's an emergency, a survey, or a wedding invitation that should have been sent back weeks ago. In emergency services, these are the heroes who show up when things go sideways; in marketing, they're the rare souls who actually click on your email. The term makes "person who responds" sound official enough to justify a title.
A meeting where people throw out ideas with reckless abandon, theoretically without judgment, though Janet from accounting will definitely judge your suggestion later. Originally meaning a sudden brilliant idea, it's evolved into a structured creative session where the goal is quantity over quality—because somewhere in those 47 terrible ideas might be one decent one. It's democracy applied to problem-solving, with similar levels of efficiency.
The corporate buzzword meaning you're supposed to anticipate problems before they happen, rather than frantically fixing them afterward like a normal person. It's the opposite of 'reactive,' and using it in meetings makes you sound strategic even when you're just guessing about the future. Every manager wants proactive employees, preferably ones with actual psychic abilities.
Short for representative, because politicians and salespeople alike are too busy to say the whole word. In fitness, it's one complete exercise movement; in politics, it's the person supposedly speaking for your interests in government; in sales, it's whoever's trying to meet their quarterly quota by calling you during dinner. The context determines whether you're counting them, electing them, or avoiding their calls.
To approve something without actual review or scrutiny, just going through the motions like a bored bureaucrat at the DMV. The illusion of governance without the inconvenience of actually governing.
A workflow requiring someone to manually transfer data between incompatible systems by literally swiveling between computers. A monument to IT departments that couldn't be bothered to build proper integrations.
The act of developing solutions, unnecessarily verbified by people who think 'solving' sounds too simple for their $200k salary. Because why use one syllable when four will do?
To incorporate something into a plan or system from the beginning, as if you're making a cake and not just making excuses for poor planning. Usually said about features that will definitely be forgotten.
To discontinue or phase out a product, service, or project, using beautiful imagery to describe something dying. The corporate equivalent of taking your pet to 'a farm upstate.'
The gradual expansion of a project beyond its original boundaries, like a blob in a horror movie consuming everything in its path. The reason every 'quick project' takes six months.
To pause discussion on a topic with the promise of returning to it later, which translates to 'let's pretend this never happened.' The corporate version of ghosting an idea.
Obstacles preventing progress on a project, ranging from technical issues to Steve from Accounting who won't approve anything. The scapegoats for why you're behind schedule.
A projection of annual revenue based on current performance, assuming nothing changes ever—which it always does. Financial crystal ball gazing disguised as analysis.
Operating expenses versus capital expenses—the difference between renting and owning, or in corporate speak, between 'this quarter's problem' and 'future quarters' problem.' The eternal accounting debate.
Euphemism for layoffs that implies the company was the 'wrong size' before, not that they're cutting costs. Because 'firing people' doesn't focus group well.
The minimum requirements needed to compete in a market, borrowed from poker. What you need just to get in the game, not to win it—though many companies mistake this for a complete strategy.
To perform calculations or financial analysis, often said by people who have no intention of actually doing the math themselves. The prelude to finding out you can't afford it.
Working on multiple approaches simultaneously in case one fails, which sounds strategic until you realize you're just doing twice the work. The corporate version of hedging your bets.
Ideation unconstrained by practical limitations like budgets, reality, or physics. Where you pretend anything is possible before constraints murder your dreams.
To lead or coordinate a project, borrowing from football despite most office workers never having touched a football. The person who gets credit when things work and blamed when they don't.