Disrupting disruption with disruptive disruptions since 2010.
Investment structured to release capital in tranches as the company hits specific targets, giving investors control and founders ulcers. Trust, but verify, but mostly don't trust.
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.
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.
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.
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.
The startup mantra that romanticizes abandoning your original business plan when it becomes clear nobody wants what you're building. It's plan B through Z, pitched as strategic thinking rather than desperate flailing.
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 intentional or unintentional obscuring of lines—whether between work and life, industries converging, or ethical boundaries getting fuzzy in your data practices.
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.
Institutions or individuals who invest capital into VC funds. The people whose retirement money is being gambled on whether your app will work.
The process of pitching your deck to many investors in sequence, iterating based on feedback. Like a miserable version of speed dating.
A spreadsheet showing who owns what percentage of your company, updated regularly as you dilute yourself with more funding rounds.
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.
Financial projections showing what a company's metrics would look like under hypothetical conditions or future scenarios. Latin for 'as a matter of form,' startup-ese for 'this is the fantasy we're selling investors.'
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.
A funding event that technically keeps a struggling startup alive but doesn't provide enough capital or momentum to actually succeed. Life support masquerading as investment.
Fake stock that feels like ownership but isn't, giving employees the illusion of having skin in the game without actual legal rights. It's participation trophy capitalism.
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.'