Disrupting disruption with disruptive disruptions since 2010.
A self-reinforcing business cycle where each component feeds the next, creating unstoppable momentum, at least on the whiteboard. In practice, most startup flywheels have the momentum of an actual flywheel purchased from a junkyard -- theoretically functional, practically stuck.
An entrepreneur driven primarily by solving a problem or advancing a cause rather than financial gain. They're the idealists who actually believe their mission statement.
A literal plot of dirt prepped for seeds, or metaphorically, any environment ripe for nurturing nascent ideas—like Silicon Valley for startups or your uncle's garage for questionable business ventures. In startup parlance, it's where brilliant innovations and terrible ideas alike take root before anyone can tell which is which. The key difference from an incubator? Seedbeds are cheaper and smell more like actual dirt.
Equity allocated to former employees, advisors, or early team members who are no longer contributing to the company but still own shares. It's the corporate equivalent of paying rent for a ghost tenant.
The percentage of transaction value a platform extracts as revenue, revealing how much you're actually taxing your users for the privilege of using your service. Too high and users revolt; too low and investors revolt.
The sadistic waiting period before any of your stock options actually belong to you, typically one year. It's designed to prevent you from taking the job and immediately quitting, essentially holding your compensation hostage for good behavior.
A startup valued at over ten billion dollars, because apparently unicorn wasn't exclusive enough and Silicon Valley needed a word that makes mythological creatures sound like a tiered loyalty program. Next up: hectocorn, at which point we're just making up zoo animals.
A group of users who started in the same time period, tracked to see how many stick around. The cruel truth about how fast people abandon your product.
Keeping multiple strategic paths open while committing to none, often praised as strategic flexibility or criticized as inability to make decisions. The business equivalent of dating multiple people because you're 'keeping your options open.'
Any exchange of goods, services, or money, elevated to sound more important when preceded by 'business' or followed by 'cost.' In startup world, it's the holy grail metric that proves people are actually using your product for its intended purpose rather than just kicking the tires. VCs obsess over transaction volume, transaction value, and transaction frequency as if counting exchanges of value will somehow predict the future.
Customer Acquisition Cost—how much you spend in sales and marketing to land one customer. VCs compare this to lifetime value to determine if your business model is actually viable or just an expensive hobby.
An introduction to an investor or customer through a mutual connection, vastly more effective than cold outreach. The difference between your email being read and being instantly deleted by an EA.
The driving force or stimulus that gets something moving, whether it's a business initiative, social movement, or your motivation to finally start that side project. In startup land, it's whatever convinces founders they can disrupt an industry, usually a personal pain point or too much coffee. Think of it as the corporate equivalent of "what sparked this terrible/brilliant idea?"
The venture capital strategy of seeking only investments with potential to return the entire fund, requiring massive exits. A portfolio approach that ignores solid doubles and triples in favor of swinging for nonexistent fences.
The speed at which a venture fund moves through its investment cycle, from raising capital to deploying it to returning capital to LPs. Faster isn't always better—ask anyone who inhaled their food and got heartburn.
The time window (usually 3-5 years) during which a venture fund actively deploys capital into new investments, after which the GP is supposed to stop writing checks and focus on managing the existing portfolio. Think of it as the VC equivalent of last call at the bar.
The return of capital to limited partners when a fund exits an investment, either as cash or occasionally as stock, representing the magical moment when paper gains become real money. The VC equivalent of actually getting your lottery winnings instead of just holding a ticket.
The terrifying state of having mere weeks of cash remaining, when every expense is scrutinized and founders start drafting layoff announcements. The financial equivalent of flying on empty while the engine sputters.
When a startup's revenue covers basic operating expenses (ramen-level salaries), allowing it to survive without external funding.
Loans provided to venture-backed startups, typically secured by assets or future funding rounds. It's called 'non-dilutive capital,' which really means 'you'll dilute yourself later when you can't pay it back.'
A funding round where a company raises money at a lower valuation than the previous round, which is the startup equivalent of your house being appraised for less than you paid for it, except everyone on Twitter knows about it. Morale is measured in tears per employee.
A marketing term VCs use to describe their approach, supposedly indicating fair terms and supportive behavior. In practice, it often means 'we won't screw you quite as hard as the other guys.'
A company that's neither thriving nor dying—generating just enough revenue to shuffle forward indefinitely but lacking the growth to succeed or the decency to fail completely. The undead of the startup ecosystem.
When a startup raises funding from institutional VCs after initially bootstrapping or taking only angel money. It's like moving from community college to the Ivy League, complete with higher expectations.