Disrupting disruption with disruptive disruptions since 2010.
A pejorative term for investors who swoop in during distressed situations to extract maximum value at founders' expense. The same people who call themselves 'value investors' on their websites.
Capital set aside by a VC fund to support existing portfolio companies in future rounds. The difference between investing in 20 companies and actually having money to help the 2-3 that work.
The hierarchical order in which different classes of investors get paid during an exit, determined by liquidation preferences from multiple funding rounds. It's a legal game of Jenga where common stockholders usually lose.
An overflowing supply of something (capital, resources, talent) that theoretically makes life easier but usually just creates new problems and decision paralysis.
In startup-land, it's the art of nursing a half-baked business idea in a controlled environment with free coffee and ping-pong tables until it either hatches into a unicorn or expires quietly. Literally borrowed from the egg-warming business, because apparently founders need the same level of coddling as baby chickens. This metaphorical brooding period involves providing ideal conditions (mentorship, funding, ramen) while the startup grows its feathers.
A VC or advisor who has actually built and run companies rather than just invested in them from the sidelines. The startup equivalent of a war veteran versus someone who just played Call of Duty.
The overwhelming wave of convertible notes and SAFEs that convert to equity during a priced round, often revealing a far more complex cap table than founders realized. The moment when chickens come home to roost, except the chickens are financial instruments.
A product development organization obsessed with shipping features rather than solving customer problems or delivering value. The startup equivalent of a hamster wheel—lots of motion, no actual progress.
A venture capitalist or firm that sporadically invests in startups outside their expertise or thesis, usually during hype cycles. They show up for the party, leave before cleanup, and wonder why founders don't return their calls.
The art of turning literally anything—your attention, your data, your grandmother's cookie recipe—into cold hard cash, typically by inserting ads or charging subscription fees. It's what happens when tech companies realize that 'free' products need to pay the bills somehow, usually by selling your eyeballs to advertisers. Essentially, if you're not paying for the product, someone's monetizing you.
Investment opportunities sourced through unique channels rather than pitch competitions and cold emails, giving VCs the illusion they've discovered something competitors haven't. Usually just means they have better interns.
Selling existing shares to other investors rather than the company issuing new shares, allowing early shareholders to get liquid without diluting anyone. The financial equivalent of sneaking out the back door.
When a company buys another startup not for its product, but primarily for its team. The startup equivalent of a zombie becoming useful.
Sequential rounds of venture funding with progressively larger checks and increasingly skeptical investors asking harder questions.
The power to vote on corporate matters, typically held by common stock and sometimes special classes of preferred stock. Theoretically democratic, practically controlled by whoever wrote the term sheet.
Risky business undertakings or investments that could either make you rich or teach you expensive lessons about market dynamics. In startup speak, it's what venture capitalists fund, hoping that one unicorn will make up for the nine failures. Think of ventures as business experiments where the hypothesis is "this will make money" and the results are usually mixed.
Legal promises in investment agreements where founders swear everything they've said is true and the company isn't hiding skeletons. Breaking these can result in personal liability, making due diligence the most stressful time to discover that intern you hired in 2019 never signed an IP assignment.
A schedule requiring founders to earn their equity over time, typically 4 years with a 1-year cliff. The investor-imposed acknowledgment that founding a company doesn't mean you'll stick around to build it.
Patient, flexible funding that accepts below-market returns to achieve social impact alongside financial returns, pioneered by organizations like Omidyar Network. Capitalism with a conscience, or venture capital with lowered expectations, depending on your perspective.
Term sheet provisions where investor rights decrease as the company hits performance milestones. A way to say 'we trust you more as you prove you're not incompetent.'
A sales or fundraising strategy focused exclusively on landing enormous clients or investors rather than building up smaller ones. It's high-risk, high-reward betting where you either feast or starve.
The AARRR framework measuring Acquisition, Activation, Retention, Referral, and Revenue—the key metrics for growth-stage startups. Named because AARRR sounds like a pirate, which is somehow still funny to founders.
A toxic funding structure where conversion price drops as stock price falls, creating a downward spiral that destroys equity value. The financial equivalent of quicksand—struggling only makes it worse.
A calculation of ownership percentages that includes all possible shares—options, warrants, convertible notes, and that napkin the founder signed in 2009. The number that reveals how little of the company you actually own.