If it's all about the client, then, unless the client is a trust or ERISA attorney, chances are the client doesn't care about (or even want to understand) the linguistic nuances of the Great Fiduciary Rule debate. In the rawest of terms, what the client really wants to know is “What's in it for me?”

“What's in it for me?” That question opens the opportunity to show, rather than tell, what a fiduciary is.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying to put on a show. Too frequently people mistake the animation of “going through the motions” with actual accomplishment. No. I'm not talking about that at all.

A fiduciary need not (and arguably shouldn't) rely on the theatrics of ostentatious display. For example, a fiduciary would have used these words for the previous sentence: Don't showboat.

Hmm. Upon further review (yes, I'm getting ready for the football season), a good fiduciary wouldn't have said anything at all. Those fiduciaries that work quietest may, in fact, work the best.

It's a classic sitcom scenario: After dinner, a husband and wife, married for decades, sit side-by-side on the living room sofa, each engaged in their individual activities. He harrumphs while perusing the sports pages. She sighs at the society pages. In the evening, just before they turn the lights out for bed, she says to him, “What a wonderful conversation we had this evening.” The husband nods in agreement.

She wasn't being sarcastic. It's just that, after years of marriage, they've grown well beyond simply completing each other's sentences. They know their mate so well they can communicate without words.

That's trust.

And that's what every fiduciary should strive for with their client.