Disrupting disruption with disruptive disruptions since 2010.
The startup world's euphemism for customers abandoning ship, measured as the rate at which subscribers cancel or stop using your service. It's the metric that keeps SaaS founders up at night, because acquiring new customers is expensive but losing existing ones is devastating. High churn is basically your business slowly bleeding out, but with spreadsheets.
A buyout mechanism where one co-founder can offer to buy out another at a specific price, and the recipient must either sell at that price or buy the offerer's shares at the same price. The nuclear option for irreconcilable founder disputes.
A fundraising approach where a startup accepts investor commitments and transfers shares on multiple dates instead of a single closing. It's like a progressive dinner party for term sheets.
The soul-crushing moment when a startup issues new shares, and existing shareholders watch their ownership percentage shrink faster than a wool sweater in a hot dryer. While you still own the same number of shares, you now own a smaller slice of the pie—assuming the company actually grows enough to justify the dilution. It's the price founders pay for other people's money, and the reason early employees cry into their vested options.
Someone who receives equity for occasionally responding to emails and allowing you to use their name on your website. The advisor-to-impact ratio is the lowest in all of business, yet every startup has seven of them.
An organizational dysfunction where the loudest voice wins every argument, regardless of actual merit or logic. Common in toxic startups and poorly-managed teams where decibel level is somehow confused with leadership ability, ensuring the best ideas often die in quiet corners while mediocre ones get screamed into existence.
A financing round raised at the same valuation as the previous round, suggesting a company has neither advanced nor declined—essentially treading water while burning cash. More diplomatically acceptable than a down round but almost as concerning to investors.
To launch a startup or project with minimal external funding by leveraging existing resources and sweat equity. The term originates from computing (where an OS loads itself into memory) but has become startup gospel—basically, pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps while investors watch from the sidelines.
The second institutional round where your company proves Series A wasn't a fluke—investors pony up $15M-$50M hoping you've figured out unit economics.
Sequential rounds of venture funding with progressively larger checks and increasingly skeptical investors asking harder questions.
A startup accelerator that funds, mentors, and networks early-stage companies for 3 months. Getting into YC is simultaneously a blessing and the quickest way to become overconfident.
The sacred privilege granted to investors allowing them to maintain their ownership percentage in future funding rounds by ponying up more cash. It's like a VIP pass that lets you keep throwing money at a company before it becomes wildly successful or spectacularly flames out.
A clause letting preferred investors double-dip by getting their liquidation preference back AND participating in the remaining proceeds with common shareholders. It's having your cake, eating it too, and taking a slice of everyone else's.
Restructuring a company's capital stack—often a euphemism for 'things went poorly and we need to reset everyone's expectations and ownership.' Can range from modest adjustments to burning everything down and starting over.
Services and resources VC firms provide beyond capital, such as recruiting help, PR support, or customer introductions. Marketing speak that ranges from genuinely useful to completely fictional.
A profitable company designed to generate comfortable income for its founders rather than pursue hypergrowth and venture returns. The entrepreneurial equivalent of choosing happiness over glory.
An investment opportunity sourced exclusively by one firm rather than through competitive process. The venture capital equivalent of finding $20 in your coat pocket—rare, lucky, and probably won't happen again.
A delightfully depressing portmanteau describing the growing army of hustlers who call themselves entrepreneurs but are really just unemployed people with a business card and a prayer. These brave souls combine the precarious instability of gig work with the delusion of startup success, making "founder" sound way better than "between opportunities." Welcome to late-stage capitalism's participation trophy.
When a startup prioritizes acquiring recognizable brand-name customers purely for credibility, even if those deals are unprofitable or unsustainable. It's the corporate equivalent of name-dropping at parties.
The practice where investors force a startup to create or expand the employee option pool before a funding round, effectively diluting founders rather than new investors. It's a clever way to pay employees with founder equity.
Lifetime Value—the total revenue a customer generates before churning, which you compare against acquisition cost to pretend your business makes sense. Usually wildly optimistic because it assumes customers stick around forever.
Moving to build or sell products at higher layers of technology infrastructure, typically where margins are better and you're further from commoditized infrastructure. The opposite of down-stack, and usually more profitable.
Informal promises of future equity that aren't documented in legal agreements, often made to early advisors or contributors. A lawsuit waiting to happen, wrapped in a handshake.
The impossible choice between maintaining control of your company and maximizing its financial value, first articulated by Harvard's Noam Wasserman. You can be rich or you can be king, but probably not both.