Disrupting disruption with disruptive disruptions since 2010.
The person who started a company and will remind you of this fact in every meeting, email signature, and LinkedIn post until the heat death of the universe. They wear the title like a crown, even when the kingdom is a WeWork desk and two interns.
A business model where the basic product is free but all the useful features cost money, like a restaurant that gives you a free plate but charges for the food. It's the startup equivalent of a drug dealer's first-one's-free strategy, but legal and with worse margins.
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.
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 company that owns and controls every layer of its product or service delivery, from manufacturing to customer experience, rather than relying on existing infrastructure or platforms. It's vertical integration for the startup age.
The continuous addition of new features to a product beyond its original scope, usually resulting in bloated, confusing software that pleases no one. The disease killing promising MVPs since software began.
Additional investment in portfolio companies by existing investors in subsequent rounds. Doubling down on your bets or, less charitably, throwing good money after bad while hoping the first investment wasn't a complete disaster.
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.
The theoretical benefit of being first to market, used to justify rushing out half-baked products. History suggests fast-follower advantage is more valuable, but that doesn't sound as impressive in pitch decks.
An operating style where founders maintain deep involvement in company details rather than delegating everything to managers. Popularized by Paul Graham as a counterpoint to conventional management wisdom that says CEOs should stay hands-off.
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 most aggressive anti-dilution protection where early investors' conversion price adjusts to match a down round price, regardless of how small the down round is. Financial punishment for daring to need more money.
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.
The degree to which a founder's background, skills, and experience align with the problem they're trying to solve. VCs love backing someone who's lived the pain they're addressing.
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.
The noble art of convincing individuals, corporations, and foundations to part with their money for your cause, institution, or startup dream. In education, it's what keeps universities building new buildings with donors' names on them. In nonprofits and startups, it's a full-time job disguised as networking events and carefully crafted pitch decks.
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.
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.'
Additional money invested in a portfolio company after the initial round—either because things are going great and you want more ownership, or things are terrible and you're protecting your original investment. Hope and desperation look surprisingly similar.
The degree to which a founder's background, skills, and experience uniquely position them to solve a particular problem. The startup equivalent of being born for this moment, or at least having a plausible narrative for why you were.
The first fundraising round from people who love you enough to give you money despite zero evidence your idea will work. The most expensive way to ruin Thanksgiving dinner conversations.
The typical 10-year lifespan of a venture capital fund from raising money to returning capital to LPs, with investment happening in years 1-5 and exits in years 5-10. It's why your VC keeps asking about your exit timeline.
The reduction in founders' ownership percentage that occurs each time the company raises money or issues new equity. It's the slow, inevitable erosion of ownership that founders signed up for when they took outside capital.