Losing My Virginity: How I Survived, Had Fun, and Made a Fortune Doing Business My Way

by Richard Branson

  I do realise as I get older that I’m going to be able to do less to promote Virgin; and philosophically I hope I will need to do less to promote it, since the ideas inculcated in the company are enshrined enough in the way it works to make the businesses take on lives of their own – hopefully in keeping with the ideas of the founder. If an organisation is structured in the right way there is no reason why its ethos shouldn’t survive the death of the founder or even a change of ownership. Look at John Lewis: it remains absolutely in line with the principles of its first founder. Marks & Spencer may have lost its way for a while but the public never lost track of its vision of what M&S should be and the company has had to return to that vision. Another example is Rolls-Royce. Long after the deaths of its two founders, its principle of engineering excellence still reassures people as diverse as airline passengers and tank drivers the world over. So, when I’m too old or incapacitated to abseil down a building, I still think the spirit of fun and adventure will be there – although I’m still constantly assured that they will be hoisting me up and down that building in a wheelchair. Still, that moment might be a very long way off. Sam certainly thinks so. When he was at Virgin Media he was asked to do an interview. Virgin PR, Jackie McQuillan, said to him, ‘Well, if you want to do the interview, babe, you can, but let’s just talk about you working for Virgin – not some psycho-babble about your relationship with your dad.’

  To which Sam replied, ‘Aw, Jackie, do we really have to push the fact that I’m working for Virgin this soon – I’m going to have to put up with another sixty years of this shit!’

  After the Arctic expedition, it seemed appropriate that, while in the great North, I stopped off in Toronto to launch another campaign to combat global warming. We had designated it ‘FLICK OFF’, as a reminder to turn off electricity at every opportunity, including all standby buttons. A slight touch of irreverence always amuses me – and I think people do remember the tongue-in-cheek approach. However, I was bemused to find that some worthy Canadian councillors decided that the phrase was rather indecent and someone should tell me that I should ‘flick off’!

  After three years of dithering on the part of the US Department of Transportation, Virgin America finally got the go-ahead to fly on 19 May. It was a great relief, not just to me, but to many people whose future jobs at VA were at stake, and, particularly, to Fred and the team at VA, who had worked non-stop to do all that was required of them to appease the DOT, and the other US airlines who had blocked us for so long.

  I have always believed in healthy competition as a way of driving up standards and letting customers have the best possible deal. However, we weren’t fully out of the woods. Despite all the changes we had scrupulously made as and when requested, the DOT insisted that we had to replace Fred Reid as CEO within six months and to limit the influence of the Virgin Group over VA’s operations even further. Since we had already distanced ourselves from VA, there didn’t seem much more we could do – but we were willing to comply. However, VA asked for the decision over Fred to be reversed. He was, after all, an American and he had previously been the president of Delta (one of the airlines that had been opposing Virgin America). It didn’t make sense. Nevertheless, being passed to fly was very welcome, and we started working hard on a mid-summer launch. VA currently offers flights between San Francisco International Airport and John F Kennedy International Airport in New York as well as services to San Diego, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, Boston, Seattle and Washington’s Dulles International Airport. Within five years, VA hopes to add other cities so it’s an ambitious roll-out.

  Simultaneously, Virgin Atlantic shifted strategy to defer our order for the Airbus A380 – which was very behind schedule – for four years, from 2009 to 2013. We still have confidence in the jumbo, but, in keeping with our safety and performance strategy, we want it to be in service elsewhere before finally committing ourselves. Instead, following our environmental lead, on 26 May, I signed a contract with Boeing chairman Jim McNerney to buy forty-three shining new Boeing 787 Dreamliners, worth $8 billion. It was the biggest order Virgin Atlantic has ever made, and they are the first carbon-composite aircraft in commercial service. Looking back, to the Virgin Atlantic Global Flyer, the world’s first all-composite aircraft, in which Steve Fossett flew around the world, I felt more than happy that we had paid for the Flyer to be built – to prove the point that all carbon-composite aircraft could fly long distances at high altitudes on a teacup of fuel (just joking …). But the press suddenly picked up a joke that was slipped into the hefty contract that Jim McNerney and I signed; in this case, the deal between Virgin Atlantic and Boeing included a clause pledging that Jim and I would each lose a stone in weight to help reduce our carbon footprints when flying.

  The clause reads: ‘The parties hereby agree that each of the signatories will lose at least one stone in weight within the next four years in order to reduce carbon dioxide emissions by over 36lb on the delivery flight.’ Apparently, our legal team had put it in as a joke to see if we would read the small print, and when we missed it on early readings, nobody had thought to take it out.

  Tongue in cheek, Virgin’s communications director, Paul Charles, said: ‘Clearly, neither of them reads contracts properly before they sign them. We are doing our bit to tackle carbon emissions, but losing weight was an additional element thrown in for added effect. If you are carrying lighter people in the plane, you need even less fuel. Perhaps the Government should consider adopting it as a way to combat obesity and climate change in one go.’

  When asked by the press how much I weighed, I was honest and gave my correct weight at the time. But, as I pointed out, I was about to head to the Arctic and had deliberately added thirty pounds as a fat reserve. I don’t know what Jim’s excuse was, though!

  At the same time as I signed the Dreamliners contract, I also signed an agreement with Boeing and General Electric, who are the engine manufacturers, to work on a joint development of a biofuel for aviation, which to me represents a sensational prospect. People always said that biofuels could never be developed for aeroplane engines. We’ve been working on a new biofuel for general use called ISO biobutanol, which may have some of the right characteristics to make a biofuel for aviation, and will continue with it. But – and this is top secret – we’re also working on developing another fuel that could be a stunning breakthrough. There is no doubt about it – I am hooked on science in a way I never thought possible. I also smile at the irony of being in partnership with Boeing. When I think of how I had telephoned them once out of the blue and naively asked if I could rent one of their jumbos, it makes me realise that the future is a highly intriguing place to look back from.

  With the possibility of clean aviation fuel at the end of May, I offered £1 million to a group founded by former Concorde pilots and executives to help Concorde to fly again. I have always thought that Concorde was one of the most beautiful of all aeroplanes and it was a sad day when the last one flew on 24 October 2003. I was disappointed when my offer to buy each plane for £1 million was turned down by British Airways. It seemed ludicrous that a supersonic plane that had flown for thirty years should be consigned to mothballs.

  When Concorde was grounded I vowed that I would keep up the campaign to keep Concorde flying, and told the press, ‘At the very least a heritage trust should be set up to keep Concorde in the UK so future generations can see it. It would be terrible if future generations could never see it fly.’

  It seemed to me that in turning me down BA was keeping our long rivalry going – a rivalry that continued to April 2007, when, bizarrely, they censored me from the latest James Bond film. The Daily Telegraph wrote: ‘In Soviet Russia anyone who fell out of favour with the ruling elite was airbrushed out of history. Now it appears that British Airways has adopted the same approach towards its corporate nemesis, Sir Richard Branson. The Virgin Atlantic chairman, who makes a brief cameo appearance in Casino Royale, the latest James Bond film, is somehow missing from the version
shown on British Airways flights.’

  We would never in a million years dream of censoring any of our in-flight films. Our philosophy is that we expect parents to guide their children. Obviously, we don’t show porn, but we do show adult or serious films. For instance, we are the only airline in the world to show Al Gore’s An Inconvenient Truth. Will telephoned Paul Charles, the head of communications at Virgin Atlantic, and said, ‘Look, if anybody phones you about this, remind them that in the Bond film, Die Another Day, there’s a big scene showing a BA plane in Miami with the BA logo all over it. Tell them we never censored that out.’ I was amused that BA overreacted like that.

  Early in June, I returned to Kenya to welcome Virgin Atlantic’s first daily flights to Nairobi, which will carry thousands of passengers and export Kenyan agricultural produce, worth $100 million a year to Kenyan farmers. I also launched another step in the Peace Parks initiative, by contributing an ‘elephant highway’ to allow some 2,000 elephants to freely move on their traditional migratory routes to and from Mount Kenya. Their search for the mineral salts they need in their diet takes them through the hundreds of small farms that have mushroomed all over the skirts of this beautiful, snow-capped volcanic peak and farmers have been shooting elephants to prevent them from trampling their crops. The Virgin Mount Kenya Elephant Corridor will stop conflict between farmers and these magnificent creatures, and allow them to survive.

  At the launch, I said, ‘The African elephant has roamed across the continent from South Africa to the Mediterranean coast but its population is under serious threat. We can create a vital lifeline for the entire animal and human population in the region.’

  It was a very happy day. Not only did I get to dance on the wing of the first Virgin Atlantic plane into Nairobi with some African dancers and a Kenyan air hostess in their colourful robes – well, Virgin’s distinctive red cabin staff outfit – but I was also made an elder by the Masai people in a very moving ceremony. Afterwards, with my 89-year-old dad and Sam, I took to the skies in a hot-air balloon. It was the first time I had been in a balloon since my round-the-world attempt in 1998, when I splashed into the sea off Hawaii. It was amazing, to sail high above the vast African landscape, following the route of the elephants towards Mount Kenya. At over 17,000 feet it is the second highest mountain in Africa and until recently – despite being almost on the Equator – it has always been covered in snow. The scenery and the experience could not have been more beautiful. Three generations of Branson men in a balloon – it was a moment to relish.

  It seems a huge step from Stone Age elephants and hot-air balloons to spaceships, but today the world is a dazzling place where you can go back in time and forward into the future. As I write this, Virgin Galactic is preparing to start its test flight programme, with Brian Binnie as the test pilot for the first 100 flights. We know the system is intrinsically safer than launching a rocket from the ground, but will be only able to prove that by actually flying it. The two most exciting aspects of the spaceship system are safety and its low environmental footprint. But ultimately I agree with Professor Hawking – that we really need to be in space long term because ultimately humanity will have to find a second home somewhere in space. Simple physics tells us that one day we will be struck by an asteroid or that we could suffer from a catastrophic volcanic event, either of which would create a nuclear winter which our dense population may not survive.

  So as Professor Hawking said, ‘Let’s use the next 1,000 years to boldly go where no one has gone before.’

  It is with family and my social challenges in mind that I spend less and less time promoting the Virgin brand through dangerous world-record attempts; sitting at home, writing this, I think it’s unlikely I will do another project on the scale of the round-the-world balloon flight.

  I spend much time travelling and so treasure the moments the family are together. In many ways we are closest when we are all on Necker. It has developed from being the jewel that symbolised the feelings Joan and I have for each other into being a place where the whole family feel at home and at peace. We try to go for Easter, summer and Christmas holidays. With my parents, my sisters and their families, our closest friends, and quite a few people from all the different Virgin companies, it is like a melting pot where we all take stock of what is happening and get away from everything apart from the fax machine.

  I’ve taught the children to play tennis there, and to swim, snorkel and sail. When we’re there we’re there for each other. It’s a time to relax and reflect on what we’re all doing, because we know that when we’re back in London it’s back to work.

  My favourite time of day there is the early evening. By then it’s midnight in London and it’s virtually impossible to speak to anyone in Europe. The fax and telephone are silent, and the sun sets quickly. In an hour or so the daylight changes from brilliant, almost white sunshine to dusk, with a deep orange blaze across the horizon. Sitting on the veranda, I can watch the last small flock of pelicans dive for fish and flap creakily away to roost. Within minutes the sky turns a velvet midnight blue, and the first handful of stars are out. The sea in front of me becomes inky black and everything falls quiet.

  We generally have supper on the terrace. Everyone is suntanned and happy. It’s great to be together, and I wonder what the future holds for all the kids here. I look over at Holly and Sam and realise that I don’t want to plan their lives for them. I just want them to be happy. I know that other businessmen such as Rupert Murdoch and Robert Maxwell had their children reading annual reports and financial accounts before breakfast, but I want none of that. Holly has been single-minded about her dream of being a doctor and she has taken her first big steps by qualifying and has a job in a big London hospital; while Sam has happily dipped his toe into the Virgin pool, by working for some months at Virgin Media in London, and is about to start working in Africa at our game parks – but the choice is entirely his whether or not he sees Virgin as a career for the future. His love for music might compete with the family business! I wonder, too, what it will be like to not spend so much time on Necker. I am building a new, greener family home on Moskito and can visualise being as happy there as we have all been on Necker. But, whatever the future holds, I am as excited and curious about it as I have always been. It is that curiosity and sense of adventure about the unknown with all its challenges that drives me. And with huge issues like AIDS and global warming and the conflict issues, the challenges grow more urgent. But at moments like these, surrounded by my family in another Necker sunset, I am happy to forget about my notebook, with its constant burning list of things to do and people to call, and relax into being among people I love and care about.

  Even as we sit here, I know that one of our jumbos is heading from Heathrow to JFK, a route that was, until 2002, operated by Maiden Voyager, our original jumbo. She had been flying from London to New York since 1984 and had become the backbone of our airline and the linchpin of our success. Her retirement marked the end of an era, but also the beginning of a new one, with the arrival of our new A340–600 in the summer of 2002. African Queen, one of our first A-340 Airbuses, is humming through the night to Nairobi, our latest destination; and Lady in Red, our first Airbus, which was christened by Princess Diana, is heading overnight towards Hong Kong. Virgin Atlantic’s offices at Crawley will be deserted save for the cleaners, and the night shift will be drinking their second or third cup of coffee at Heathrow and Gatwick. There will be queues outside Heaven nightclub, and I wonder who is performing tonight and what the future holds for them. The Japanese and Paris Megastores will be shut, but late-afternoon crowds will be leafing through the racks of CDs at the New York Megastore, before buying a can of Virgin Cola from a nearby vending machine. Meanwhile, in London our team at Virgin Books will be wondering why a certain ‘author’ is late with his manuscript! And of course, in the Mojave desert, my dream for affordable space travel and a new era in human history will gradually be becoming a reality. Space really is virgin territ
ory.

  At the outset, each of those individual ventures was a step into the unknown for the company – a bit like the loss of one’s virginity. But, unlike really losing your virginity, in whatever world you make for yourself, you can keep embracing the new and the different over and over again. That’s what I have always wanted for Virgin and, whether it’s achieved by judgement or luck, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  On 26 May 2007, Nelson Mandela arrived at Ulusaba for the first meeting of the Elders. He walked in amongst all these people waiting to greet him. How incredibly humbling it was to be in the presence of people who truly live with moral courage and who consistently put the betterment of humanity above anything else in their lives. When Madiba arrived, all the 150 members of staff at Ulusaba and guests from the meeting formed lines up and down the path to welcome him – singing and dancing and showing their love for him. His goodness and moral leadership shone from the moment he stepped out of the car.

  He was fragile and tried to dance along with them, though his legs are worn out from having to kneel down, breaking stones during almost twenty-eight years of imprisonment on Robben Island – but the rest of his body still danced.

  Peter and I had been working towards getting the Elders launched for a long time, so the realisation that it was finally happening – all these extraordinary people gathered to greet Mandela and to be at the birth of the Elders – was truly one of the most emotional moments of my life. I was hopeful that history was being made at that very moment. It was all our wishes that the Elders become a powerful force for good in a very uncertain world and that they will go from strength to strength, sometimes to bring peace out of chaos; to calm dangerous flashpoints; and to help when plague, famine and disasters strike.