Disrupting disruption with disruptive disruptions since 2010.
Stock-like compensation arrangements that mimic equity ownership without actually granting shares, often used to avoid dilution or regulatory complications. All the incentive alignment with bonus legal complexity.
A shareholder who has contractual rights to approve or block an acquisition or IPO, giving them veto power over exit decisions regardless of ownership percentage. Democracy in action, if democracy meant a small group could overrule the majority.
A proactive sales approach where the company reaches out to potential customers rather than waiting for inbound interest. It's the difference between fishing with a net and hoping fish jump into your boat.
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.
Having personal capital at risk in an investment or venture, theoretically aligning interests between founders and investors. It's the 'put your money where your mouth is' principle, except everyone's mouth is usually writing checks their bank account can't cash.
The startup founder's obsession—that magical unicorn metric combining customer benefit, market size, and the ability to eventually turn a profit (someday, maybe). Investors worship at this altar; users actually experience it.
The messy dissolution of a startup partnership, romantic relationship, or team dynamic—often marked by awkward equity discussions, passive-aggressive Slack messages, and lawyers getting involved.
An independent contractor hired on a project basis rather than as a full-time employee. Startups use them to avoid benefits/taxes, contractors love them for flexibility.
Emergency funding meant to tide a startup over until the 'real' funding round happens, often at desperate terms. Named after a bridge because you're hoping it doesn't collapse before you reach the other side.
A venture fund structure where capital commitments are made quarterly rather than in one large closing, allowing GPs to start investing immediately. The subscription model comes to venture capital.
Moving to build or sell products at a lower layer of the technology infrastructure, typically where margins are thinner but the market is larger. Often happens when companies realize their original niche is too small.
The soul-crushing moment when a founder's ownership percentage shrinks because the company issued more shares to new investors. It's weaker coffee, but for equity—you still own shares, they're just worth relatively less of the pie. Every funding round brings this special joy, where you simultaneously celebrate getting money and mourn losing control.
A strategy where investors make many small bets, then heavily support only the winners in subsequent rounds. The venture capital version of throwing spaghetti at the wall, then only cooking the pieces that stuck.
Provisions allowing minority shareholders to join a sale if majority shareholders exit—the friendlier sibling of drag-along rights. It's protection ensuring you can't get abandoned while insiders cash out.
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.
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.
A provision preventing startups from soliciting other offers while negotiating terms, ensuring you can't play investors against each other. The dating equivalent of 'we're exclusive now' after one coffee.
The magical moment when your paper wealth becomes actual money you can spend—typically through an acquisition or IPO. It's what everyone's working toward but few actually experience.
The art of building a valuable company while raising as little outside funding as possible, preserving founder ownership and bragging rights. It's increasingly rare in an era of mega-rounds and bloated valuations.
The process of slapping a number on something that probably doesn't have a real value. In venture capital, it's educated guessing dressed up as financial analysis—your startup is worth $100M because we feel like it is, and also because everyone else paid way too much for similar companies.
A protective mechanism for investors that actually dilutes founders more if the company gets a down round; the cruel irony of startup investing.
A professional investor who manages large funds and makes risky bets on startups—essentially a gambler with better PR.
A Stripe-era instrument designed to be even simpler than convertible notes—basically a promise to give equity someday, maybe.
The total revenue you expect from one customer during their entire relationship with your company—usually wildly overestimated.