Editor’s note: Chris Holman is a Master Certified Coach, executive coach to financial advisors, and author of the book “Discovery Shift: Why Talking Less and Listening More Wins Business. He will host a Discovery Workshop on February 9-10. Find details and register here.
“Plate licker” is a derogatory term some advisors use for people who attend a dinner seminar, eat the food, and decline a follow-up meeting.
It’s said with a smirk.
Sometimes with resentment.
As if it diagnoses the prospect.
It doesn’t. It diagnoses the advisor.
The term doesn’t describe a prospect. It describes disappointment. Specifically, the moment when someone fails to do what the advisor hoped they would do. A so-called plate licker didn’t necessarily mislead anyone. They didn’t cheat the system. They attended an event and chose not to continue. That’s it.
Here’s the unromantic truth about seminars. Some people book follow-ups. Some don’t. That outcome is baked in. Even well-run seminars followed by competent discovery meetings produce drop-off. Advisors still get enough clients to justify the effort. Non-continuation is not a failure. It’s the business model.
The problem starts when drop-off needs a story. When someone doesn’t book a meeting, an advisor can treat that as information. Or they can explain it away: They were just there for the food.
The label does useful emotional work. It moves frustration off the advisor and onto the prospect. It shuts down inquiry. It avoids asking whether the process actually asked anything of the person in the room.
This reflex doesn’t stop at seminars. It shows up in discovery meetings too. Different words. Same logic.
They weren’t serious.
They just wanted free advice.
Same move. Same dodge. The label appears when discovery fails to clarify fit early enough.
When non-continuation becomes a story
Seminars create ambiguity. Advisors often treat them as the start of a relationship. Attendees often treat them as an evening of information. Neither view is wrong. The problem is that the difference usually goes unnamed.
When expectations stay vague, resentment fills the gap. The same dynamic plays out in discovery meetings. Many are designed to feel easy. Polite. Efficient. Information is gathered. The process is explained. The advisor sounds capable. What’s missing is demand. No one has to think. No one has to show up fully. Not the prospect. Not the advisor.
Politeness substitutes for engagement. Smoothness replaces clarity. When no one has to think, both sides are being spared. Prospects aren’t asked to pause, reflect, or decide what actually feels unresolved. They can listen, nod, collect information, and leave unchanged. Consumption is easy. Thinking costs something. Most processes never ask for that cost.
Advisors are spared too. They don’t have to sit in uncertainty. They don’t have to risk silence. They don’t have to find out whether the person in front of them actually wants a deeper conversation or is just being polite. The meeting can move forward without anything being tested. That mutual comfort is why these meetings feel smooth. And why they fail to sort.
Politeness becomes the shared goal. Efficiency becomes the virtue. Information replaces engagement. Everyone behaves well. No one decides. When discovery doesn’t require thought from the prospect, it also doesn’t require judgment from the advisor. Fit stays ambiguous. Non-continuation later feels confusing or personal. That’s when labels appear.
A process that asks both parties to think early removes the need for explanation later. Silence, hesitation, and opt-out are not breakdowns. They are signals. When they’re allowed, discovery does its job.
Seminars invite consumption unless you say otherwise
Things change when participation is named.
Not pushed.
Not forced.
Named.
In seminars that work differently, advisors do one simple thing early. They define the room. They draw a line between listening and participating. They say something like:
“Some of you are here for information. That’s fine.
Others may be here because something in your financial life feels unresolved. A question that hasn’t gone away.
If that’s you, the conversation after this seminar is where that gets explored. We’ll offer that option later.
If you’re not ready for that, listening is still a valid choice.”
No pressure. No funnel. But the temperature changes. People now have to decide how they’re showing up. Some lean back. They eat, listen, and leave. Others lean in. They slow down. The follow-up conversation, if it happens, feels like a continuation, not a pitch.
What changes when participation is explicit
When discovery is framed this way, non-continuation stops feeling personal. It stops needing interpretation. It reads as data. No one wonders who wasted time. No one needs a label. Some people weren’t ready for that kind of conversation. Others were. Both outcomes make sense.
There’s no pressure here. The cost isn’t money or emotion. It’s attention. The quiet requirement to think about what’s unresolved. That alone does the sorting. The economics don’t suffer. They never have.
What disappears is contempt.
Discovery is a selection environment
In the end, “plate licker” isn’t a type of prospect. It’s a signal. It shows up when disappointment gets explained instead of examined. When discovery is treated as a test instead of a place where people decide for themselves.
Advisors don’t get plate lickers by accident. They get them when seminars and discovery meetings are designed for consumption instead of decision. Advisors who design for thinking don’t need the term. The process already did the work.
Nothing failed.
The system separated listeners from decision-makers.