The email landed in my inbox at 7:43am on a Monday.

"Harvey, just checking in on the exec presentation. Thoughts?"

It was from a talented product manager I'd been mentoring - someone who'd asked me repeatedly why she kept getting passed over for senior roles despite consistently delivering solid work. And right there, in those eight words, was her answer.

I hit reply: "Can we grab a coffee?"

Over that coffee, I showed her something uncomfortable. I'd kept every email she'd sent me for over six months. Not because I'm weird (well, not entirely), but because I'd noticed a pattern. A pattern I'd seen destroy countless careers during my 25 years navigating the corridors of Microsoft, Virgin, and beyond.

Her emails were competent. Professional. Polite.

And they were absolutely murdering her chances of advancement.

Here's what nobody tells you about corporate life: Your manager forms opinions about your leadership potential every single time you hit send.

Not based on your project outcomes.

Not based on your technical brilliance.

Based on whether your emails whisper "executive material" or scream "needs supervision."

I know, I know. It seems ridiculous that something as mundane as email etiquette could derail your trajectory. But I've sat in enough promotion discussions to know the truth: when leadership evaluates talent, they're reading between the lines of every message you've ever sent them.

Let me show you the nine email signals that are quietly destroying your career - and exactly how to fix them before your next performance review.

What it signals: You're behind schedule, reactive rather than proactive, and possibly drowning.

I watched a director-level candidate lose out on a VP role because the hiring exec said, "She apologises for delays I didn't even know existed."

When you open with an apology for something the recipient wasn't tracking, you've just told them you're struggling with workload management. It's like announcing, "I can't cope with this level - imagine what happens if you promote me!"

The fix: Lead with the update, not the apology.

Instead of: "Thanks for your patience on this. Here's the report."
Try: "Here's the Q4 analysis you requested. Key insight: we're 23% ahead of forecast."

What it signals: You lack purpose and a clear communication strategy.

During my Xbox days, I'd receive dozens of these weekly. Every single one got mentally filed under "person who doesn't know what they want."

"Just checking in" is the professional equivalent of "I don't actually have anything meaningful to say but felt obliged to disturb you anyway."

The fix: Use specific, action-oriented subjects that respect everyone's time.

Instead of: "Just checking in"
Try: "Q2 Budget Review - Decision needed by Friday"

What it signals: You're passing decision-making upward rather than owning it.

One of my colleagues at Kaspersky Lab used to end every email with "Thoughts?" or "What do you think?" The executive team started calling him "the consultant" - and not in a flattering way. He was brilliant at analysis but never took a stance.

Leadership isn't about collecting opinions. It's about forming them.

The fix: Recommend a clear next step, even if you note alternatives.

Instead of: "I've attached three options. Thoughts?"
Try: "I recommend Option B based on cost and timeline. Option A works if speed is a priority. I can proceed with B unless you see issues."

What it signals: Poor relationship management and inability to navigate conflict professionally.

Look, we've all been tempted. Someone ignored your carefully crafted email, and now you're annoyed. But broadcasting that annoyance with "per my last email" is the corporate equivalent of saying, "Can you not read?"

I learnt this the hard way when a Virgin colleague pointed out that my "as previously mentioned" habit was making me look difficult rather than diligent.

The fix: Restate the point directly without the attitude.

Instead of: "Per my last email from Tuesday..."
Try: "Quick recap: we need the budget approvals by EOW to stay on schedule for launch."

What it signals: You're undermining your own authority before you've even started.

This one particularly drives me mad because I see brilliant people, often women, but not exclusively, sabotaging themselves with unnecessary apologies.

You're not bothering anyone. You're doing your job. Stop apologising for existing in a professional capacity.

The fix: Start with context and value proposition.

Instead of: "Sorry to bother you, but..."
Try: "I need 10 minutes to align on the product roadmap before Thursday's exec review."

What it signals: You're forcing others to define outcomes instead of owning the process.

"Let me know" is the email equivalent of shrugging your shoulders. It puts the cognitive load on the recipient to figure out what you actually need and when.

Leaders don't hand off ambiguity. They propose clarity.

The fix: Specify concrete deadlines and required actions.

Instead of: "Let me know when you can review this."
Try: "Can you review by Wednesday COB? I'll incorporate feedback and share the final version on Friday."

What it signals: Poor judgment about visibility and stakeholder management.

At Microsoft, we had a running joke about people who'd "Reply All" to company-wide announcements with "Thanks!" as if 60,000 employees needed to know about their gratitude.

Every unnecessary Reply All broadcasts: "I don't understand appropriate communication boundaries."

The fix: Pause and consider who genuinely needs to see your response.

Before hitting Reply All, ask: "Does everyone on this thread need this information, or am I just showing off?"

What it signals: You're making recipients do your analytical thinking.

I once received an FYI email with a 47-page market research report attached. No subject line context. No summary. No explanation of why it mattered to my priorities.

I deleted it without opening the attachment.

When you forward something with "FYI," you're essentially saying, "You figure out why this matters." That's not helpful; it's lazy.

The fix: Explain relevance before sharing.

Instead of: "FYI" [attachment]
Try: "This research shows our competitor launching in APAC next quarter (page 12). Might impact our Q3 pricing strategy. Worth discussing?"

What it signals: Poor planning, weak boundaries, or performative busyness.

Now, I know this one's controversial. Sometimes, genuine urgency requires weekend work. But consistent weekend sending patterns tell a story - and it's rarely "this person is executive material."

It usually says either "I can't manage my time during work hours" or "I'm trying to look busy."

During my time across multiple companies, I noticed the most effective executives rarely sent weekend emails. They were strategic about their time and respected others' boundaries.

The fix: Use scheduling features to send on Monday morning.

Most email clients let you compose over the weekend but schedule delivery for business hours. Use this.

These aren't just writing habits.

They're leadership red flags hiding in plain sight - and your boss is reading between every single line.

Here's what really happens in promotion discussions (I've been in enough to know): When your name comes up, someone will say, "What about [Your Name] for the Senior Director role?"

And someone else will reply with a feeling. Not data. Not performance metrics. A feeling.

"I don't know... something feels off. Maybe they're not quite ready yet."

That feeling? It's built from dozens of micro-impressions accumulated through your emails. The apologetic openers. The vague closers. The Reply All incidents. The weekend desperation sends.

None of it is fair. None of it should matter as much as your actual work. But it absolutely does.

The colleagues I've watched skyrocket through organisations - the ones who jumped from Manager to Director in 18 months, or from Director to VP in two years - they all shared one trait:

They wrote every email as if they already had the next job.

They demonstrated ownership, not uncertainty.
They proposed solutions, not questions.
They treated their inbox like a daily audition for greater responsibility.

Because that's exactly what it is.

Right. Here's what you're going to do, starting tomorrow:

1. Audit your last 20 sent emails

Go through them with brutal honesty. How many contain the nine red flags above? Print them out if you need to. See the patterns you're broadcasting.

2. Create your "email upgrade" template

Start emails with context and value, not apologies. End with specific next steps, not vague questions. Save this template somewhere you'll see it before hitting send.

3. Implement the "24-hour leadership test"

Before sending any important email, ask: "If my CEO read only this message, would they think I'm ready for the next level?" If the answer is no, rewrite it.

4. Set up scheduled sending as default

Configure your email to always suggest scheduling rather than immediate sending. This forces you to think about timing and gives you a chance to review with fresh eyes.

5. Track your transformation

Keep a simple tally: How many emails this week did you send using old patterns vs. new ones? Your goal is 90% "new pattern" within a month.

People don't need perfect prose to advance their careers.

They need communication that demonstrates ownership, clarity, and strategic thinking in every single message.

Your inbox is your leadership audition. Make sure you're playing the right part.

Keep on rockin'!
Harvey