Issue #24: Holy Promotion, Batman! What Am I Missing?
At some point in your career, someone told you to find a good mentor. So you did. Maybe several. Because why not? These are the people who gave you honest feedback, shared hard-earned perspectives, and dispensed wisdom over lunches that went 45 minutes longer than anyone planned for.
Mentors are great. Genuinely.
Then someone told you to get a coach. Someone to help you develop specific skills — executive presence, communication, and how to stop doing that thing with your hands when you present. (You know the thing that looks like you're directing a 3-point turn for a 747.)
Also great. Also not free (usually). But definitely great.
So, what have you missed?
You've got a mentor. Maybe a coach. You're doing all the things. Checking the boxes. Building the relationships. Collecting the LinkedIn recommendations like Pokémon cards.
And somehow… you're still watching someone less qualified end up in the chair you've been quietly circling for three years.
Well… you missed the unspoken role. A clandestine figure. The one nobody tells you to go find (because otherwise they wouldn’t be clandestine).
Not your manager. Not HR. Not the career development workshop that covered every conceivable topic except the one that actually matters. Not even the mentor who genuinely wants the best for you.
You’re missing a sponsor.
And there's no "How to Find Your Sponsor" course. No handbook chapter. No onboarding checklist item that says: secure a senior-level advocate willing to spend their political capital on your behalf.
And here's why —unlike a mentor or a coach, a sponsor isn't a role you can simply request. You cannot walk up to someone and say, "Hey, would you be my sponsor?"
(You can try. I'll be here when you get back.)
A sponsor is earned. Cultivated. It develops in the space between exceptional performance, a clear personal brand, and a relationship built on trust over time.
You don't recruit a sponsor — you become someone worth sponsoring.
And that takes longer than most people want — and more visibility than most people are comfortable with.
And here's what makes it truly clandestine: when it's working, you might not even know it's happening. Your sponsor isn't sending you a calendar invite that says, "I went to bat for you today." They're just in the room. And at the right moment, they lean forward — and your name lands on the table with the full weight of their credibility behind it.
That's the role. The one most people don't realize they're missing until a door closes and nobody can quite explain why.
🧠 Three Roles. One Goal. No Math Needed.
Let's start with some clarity. Lord knows we can all use more of that these days.
Put simply: mentors guide you, coaches develop you, and sponsors decide whether you even get in the room.
It's important to differentiate between all three. While every consultant has their own version of these definitions, here's what actually matters:
A mentor talks to you. They've walked the road you're on — or one close enough to matter — and they share what they saw, what they learned, and what they'd do differently. They hand you the map they wish someone had handed them. Sometimes it's exactly right. Sometimes it's from a different decade. Either way, it's earned perspective, generously given.
A coach works with you. They don’t hand you answers — they help you find them. They're asking questions you haven't thought to ask yourself, helping you find the answer that was already in there, buried under the noise and the story you've been telling yourself since the third grade. A good coach doesn't solve it for you. They just keep asking until you do.
A sponsor, on the other hand, talks for you — in the rooms you're not in, to the people who matter, at the exact moment the decision is being made. They have skin in the game — their reputation, and perhaps their career — moves with yours.
Can one person be all three? Yes. Is it common? Absolutely not — mostly because "sharing wisdom over lunch," "working on your executive presence," and "putting my professional reputation on the line for you" are three very different levels of commitment that typically span different work eras.
The mistake most high performers make — and I made it, longer than I'd like to admit — is assuming their mentor or coach is also doing the sponsor work.
They're not. They often can't.
Not unless they've explicitly decided to spend political capital on you. Which is a completely different conversation. One most people never actually have, because asking for it feels presumptuous, uncomfortable, and somehow like asking someone to corporate prom.
It isn't. You need to ask. And you should buy them a corsage.
Remember PIE from Issue #20? Here’s the quick math:
Performance: 10%. Image: 30%. Exposure: 60%.
Performance will get you paid. Image and Exposure will get you promoted.
And a sponsor is the single most powerful way to activate the E. The 60% most high performers completely ignore because they're too busy perfecting the 10%.
That's where your sponsor lives. In the boardroom shadows, like your executive Batman — ready to emerge at exactly the right moment. Cape optional. Credibility required.
🤝 The Two-Way Street Nobody Tells You About
Unlike Batman, a corporate sponsor isn't putting their neck on the line for pure altruism — or to avenge the untimely murder of their parents by a common street thug.
They're your advocate because they believe in you enough to attach their name to yours. And when their name is attached — their reputation — and perhaps career — moves with yours. In both directions. (Insert nervous face emoji.)
Sponsorship is a bet. And nobody makes a bet they don't think they can win.
Which means the equation only works if you're holding up your end. Three non-negotiables:
Be the absolute dog in your job. Every day. Not most days. Not just the days when someone important is watching. Your sponsor is going out on a limb for you — don't hand them a saw. (10% of the equation still requires 100% of your effort. Math doesn't care about your feelings.)
Lock in your image. How you show up in meetings, how you handle pressure, what people say about you when you're not in the room. Your sponsor is going to repeat your story to people who will decide whether to believe it. Make sure it's the right one. (See also: Issue #23. Still here. Still mildly judging.)
Make the actual ask. This is the one everybody skips. They build the relationships, do the work, wait, hope, assume — and wonder why nothing is moving. Find the right person, find the right moment, and say the specific thing: "I'm going after [X]. Would you be willing to advocate for me if it comes up?"
Not "I'd love your support someday, if you ever feel inclined, no pressure, totally fine if not." The specific thing. One sentence. Most people are waiting to be asked — they just need permission to lean forward.
When all three are in place, a sponsor can do in one conversation what you couldn't accomplish in five years of excellent, invisible work.
Because they're getting your work in front of the people who need to see it, in the rooms you'll never be invited into, with the credibility that only comes from someone who's already at the table.
That's the 60%.
🍴 Try a Bite This Week
Audit the three columns. Create three columns: Mentor. Coach. Sponsor. Put names in each. If the Sponsor column is blank, that's your data. If the same name appears in all three columns, ask yourself honestly: are they advising you, developing you, or actually spending capital on your behalf in rooms you're not in? Those are three different jobs. Make sure you know which one they're doing.
Stress-test your side of the street. Before you go looking for a sponsor, ask yourself the uncomfortable question first: Am I making this bet easy to place? Is your performance genuinely unimpeachable — or just pretty good when someone's paying attention? Is your image clear enough to travel without you in the room to explain it? Fix what's broken first. A sponsor can only amplify what's there. They cannot manufacture what isn't.
Draw the map. Work backwards. Pick one outcome you want in the next 12 months — a promotion, a stretch assignment, a seat at a table you haven't been invited to yet. Now ask: who actually makes or heavily influences that decision? And who has a real relationship with that person? That's your sponsorship target. Most people build relationships based on proximity and hope they land somewhere useful. This is different. Draw the map first, then decide who needs to be in your corner — before you need them to be.
💡 A Final Thought
So. Do you have a Batman?
Not the brooding, cave-dwelling, eccentric billionaire kind. (Though if that person exists in your organization and is willing to advocate for you, absolutely do not turn that down.)
The one who shows up in that room — the calibration session, the succession conversation, the casual Tuesday morning where someone asks "who should we be thinking about?" — and leans forward with your name.
You probably don't have one. Not because you're not talented. And you are obviously smart because you are reading this newsletter.
But you can have one. You need one. Frankly, you deserve one.
So here's what I want you to walk away with:
Go be the absolute dog. Lock in the story. Send the signal.
Because Batman doesn't show up just because you need him. He shows up because someone sent the signal. And he shows up for people worth showing up for.
Be sponsor-ready. Then send the signal.
And if there's someone on your team right now doing exceptional work in complete silence — you already know your assignment.
Be their Batman. (This time…cape not optional.)
🌶️ Add Your Spice
Do you have a sponsor — someone actively advocating for you in the rooms you're not in? And if not: is it because you haven't found the right person… or because you've never actually asked?
Drop it in the comments. And if this hit differently after Issues #20 and #23 — I'd genuinely love to know.
If this resonated, share it with someone doing excellent work and wondering why it's not adding up. They need the full PIE.