I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been cornered at conferences by men in meticulously over-casual $300 t-shirts, evangelizing their startups with religious fervor. “We’re DISRUPTING the entire industry,” they insist, with the insufferable confidence of someone who believes their “Uber for X” app constitutes a revolution on par with penicillin.

“The old model is completely broken,” they insist.

As they drone on about their company’s world-changing approach to (inevitably) shuttling burritos from point A to point B, the truth becomes painfully obvious: their “revolutionary” business model consists of wedging themselves between existing markets and participants, then bleeding both sides dry with escalating fees and commissions.

This has become the dominant tech playbook.

What venture capitalists celebrate as “disruption” is, with damning frequency, nothing more than a moderately sophisticated way to extract rent from existing systems that functioned perfectly well before tech entrepreneurs arrived to “save” them.

When tech founders proclaim “we’re disruptive,” what they really mean is “we’ve found a legally dubious way to build wealth on the back of a system that worked fine before we showed up.” Their “disruption” is a form of digital colonization—invading functioning markets and leaving devastation in their wake.

The obscenity isn’t just the elicitation itself—it’s the squandering of human potential. Imagine if the brilliant minds and vast capital currently dedicated to building increasingly sophisticated digital toll booths were instead focused on our existential challenges: climate catastrophe, preventable disease, systemic poverty, the collapse of democracy.

What actual problems have the most celebrated tech “unicorns” of the past decade solved? Did Uber cure a disease? Did DoorDash address climate change? Did Airbnb solve the housing crisis—or worsen it?

This is a society-wide failure of resource allocation.

It’s a moral catastrophe masquerading as innovation.

If you’re a tech founder: prove this assessment wrong. Show me, show us “disruption” that genuinely creates new, class-crossing value instead of reallocating it. Build something that addresses human needs instead of inventing elaborate new ways to insert yourself as a Rentier in existing transactions. Stop using “innovation” as a smokescreen for exploitation.

For everyone else: when the MBA in a designer hoodie that costs more than a starter car tells you he’s “disrupting” an industry, translate it correctly: “I’ve found a way to skim money from people who actually create value, and I’m hoping you’ll call me a visionary instead of an execrable leech.”