Your best client has money somewhere else. You probably know roughly where it is, and you've probably never asked about it directly.
Advisors tend to read that as a verdict on the relationship. The reasons are usually more ordinary than that.
Inertia is the biggest one. The account was opened in 1998 at a firm the client doesn't think about, and moving it means paperwork nobody is motivated to start. Compartmentalization is the second. The old plan is the retirement money, you're the investment person, and the client has never had a reason to put those two things in the same sentence.
The third reason is the one worth doing something about. The relationship hasn't gone deep enough for consolidation to feel like it's in the client's interest. If everything you've discussed for six years is performance and allocation, then moving assets to you is a favor the client would be doing you. Clients don't do favors with their retirement accounts.
The question that changes it
Ask a client what they're working toward that has nothing to do with money.
It's a strange question coming from an advisor, and that's exactly why it works. It moves the conversation off the account and onto the thing the account is supposed to serve. The answers come back specific, and they're rarely what you would have guessed. A boat. A year living near grandchildren. Getting a daughter through the first two years of a business she's about to start.
I have never once seen a performance report open that door. I've watched this question open it inside fifteen minutes.
What happens next
Once a client has described what they want their life to look like, the held-away accounts come up without being chased. The client raises them, because he has just worked out that those accounts belong in the same picture as everything else.
That's the sequence worth building around. The life conversation comes first, and consolidation follows from it, which means you never have to ask.
Making it repeatable
One advisor asking that question well is a personal talent. Writing it into the process is what turns it into something the firm owns.
That's the job the Dream Board does. The answers go somewhere structured, every advisor asks in the same order, and the record is still there when the client's situation changes in four years. A new advisor inherits it on day one. None of it lives in one person's memory.
The consolidation follows. It always has. It just needs a reason that belongs to the client.