Disrupting disruption with disruptive disruptions since 2010.
Preferred stock that must choose between taking its liquidation preference OR converting to common and sharing the remaining proceeds—can't do both. The slightly-less-greedy version of investor terms.
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.
In startup land, the glorious moment when founders and investors finally cash out, either through acquisition or IPO, turning years of ramen dinners and sleepless nights into actual money. It's the entrepreneurial equivalent of winning the lottery, except you had to build the lottery first. Every VC's favorite word and every founder's obsession after their Series A.
The art of watering down your ownership stake in a company, usually because someone with deeper pockets decided your equity pie needs more slices. In the startup world, this happens when new investors come aboard and everyone's percentage shrinks faster than your enthusiasm during Series D. It's not personal, it's just cap table mathematics.
Surrounded by a protective water-filled trench, which in business parlance describes a company with such strong competitive advantages that rivals can't touch them. Warren Buffett made this term famous by obsessing over companies with "economic moats" that defend market share like medieval fortifications. These days, everyone claims they have a moat, but most are more like puddles.
An internal document where VCs justify their investment thesis to partners, typically written with supreme confidence that will be mocked at the next downturn. The receipts for future 'I told you so' moments.
The extended period after initial startup excitement fades when growth stalls and reality sets in, but you're too committed to quit. It's the emotional valley between 'we're going to change the world' and 'maybe we should get real jobs.'
The percentage discount early investors get when their notes convert to equity, rewarding them for investing before a priced round. It's the early bird special of startup investing, typically 15-25%.
General Partner, the VC fund managers who make investment decisions and carry legal liability for the fund's operations. They're the ones whose names are on the door and whose reputations are on the line.
The year a venture capital fund closes and begins making investments, used to compare fund performance across similar time periods. It's like birth year for wine or funds—context that matters for quality assessment.
The startup world's polite euphemism for cashing out and abandoning ship, ideally with a massive payday that makes all those 80-hour weeks seem worthwhile. Can range from a glorious IPO or acquisition to quietly shutting down operations while pretending you 'pivoted to consulting.' It's the entrepreneurial equivalent of checking out of a hotel, except you're either leaving with millions or owing money to everyone you know.
A funding round with so many small investors that the cap table looks like a nightclub guest list—lots of names, minimal commitment from anyone. Usually signals either a hot deal everyone wants a piece of, or a desperate founder who couldn't land a lead investor.
A funding round where the company's valuation is explicitly set and shares have a specific price—as opposed to convertible instruments where everyone kicks the valuation can down the road. Forces uncomfortable conversations about what the company is actually worth.
The speed at which a startup moves from inception to market dominance within its category. The term is sometimes used when discussing execution speed and competitive moats simultaneously.
A funding round that attracts investors primarily because a prestigious VC or strategic investor has already committed, rather than on the company's standalone merits. One famous name creates a stampede of followers.
When VCs make investment decisions based on superficial similarities to previous successful startups rather than rigorous analysis. It's why they love Stanford dropouts building social apps in their dorm rooms.
The adjective slapped on every product, service, and startup pitch deck to signal 'we're doing something allegedly new.' Something innovative is supposed to be groundbreaking and forward-thinking, though these days it often means 'we added AI to it.' If your company isn't innovative, you're basically admitting you're stuck in 2005 with a flip phone.
The mythical J-curve trajectory where metrics stay flat forever and then suddenly shoot straight up, resembling a hockey stick. Every founder claims this is coming; few actually achieve it.
A venture fund that's technically alive but has stopped making new investments, usually because performance is so bad that raising a follow-on fund is impossible. It shambles along, managing existing investments until the limited partnership agreement expires.
A timeline of planned features that will be delivered late, if at all—your product team's creative fiction exercise. It exists primarily to give the sales team something to promise prospects that engineering will later disappoint.
When a startup 'grows up' from an accelerator program or moves from seed to institutional funding, like leaving college but with more awkward Demo Days. Implies you're now playing with the big kids.
A corporate action where shareholders finally get to convert their paper wealth into actual money—or discover their shares are worthless after preferences. It's payday or apocalypse, with no middle ground.
The intentional or unintentional obscuring of lines—whether between work and life, industries converging, or ethical boundaries getting fuzzy in your data practices.
A protective mechanism for investors that actually dilutes founders more if the company gets a down round; the cruel irony of startup investing.