Finding My Virginity: The New Autobiography

by Richard Branson

  UNODC claimed, very half-heartedly, that the paper was not final or authorized—despite releasing it to the BBC and others! But they were too late—the cat was out of the bag. International media picked up my blog and before long the document was on the front pages of newspapers and websites globally. I looked at Twitter and saw thousands of people sharing a picture of global and local experts on the closing day of the Harm Reduction International conference in Kuala Lumpur, waving copies of the paper in the air, calling on UNODC to endorse and release it formally.

  When the UN special session on drugs rolled around, I was in New York to witness far too little progress being made. Shaped heavily by prohibitionist countries like Egypt and Russia, it was more political farce than meaningful force. The session lacked the teeth to write a new chapter in global drug policy. Elsewhere, change continues regardless. Champions of reform, like the Czech Republic, Mexico, Switzerland, Colombia, Uruguay, Jamaica, the Netherlands and Norway, continue to stand up and I hope that more global powers will join them in creating lasting, meaningful, evidence-based reform of global drug control policy.

  Would I leak another paper if I thought it would move things along? Absolutely!

  —

  Many people ask why I don’t just give my money to charity, rather than investing in new technology to tackle climate change. The answer should be clear for any entrepreneur. Throwing money at a problem without having a clearly defined purpose will never solve anything. I wanted to find entrepreneurial solutions to this enormous challenge, and create long-term change. I believe the way to do this is by challenging existing conventions and coming up with innovative new ways to do business. Early pioneers in new sectors often get their fingers burned leading the way for others, and we were no exception. Investing during the worst financial crisis of our time, many investments in areas such as biofuels were not successful.

  But fast-forward to 2017 and really exciting breakthroughs are happening. For instance, Virgin Atlantic’s ongoing partnership with LanzaTech to develop commercially viable low carbon fuel is getting close. For the first time ever, 1,500 US gallons of jet fuel have been produced from “Lanzanol”—LanzaTech’s low-carbon ethanol. This is the world’s first jet fuel derived from waste industrial gases from steel mills (that would otherwise go up chimneys) via a fermentation process. The alcohol-to-jet fuel has passed all its initial performance tests with flying colors, and could result in carbon savings of 65 percent compared to conventional jet fuel—a real game-changer for aviation. The jet fuel is scheduled for a first-of-its-kind “proving flight” in 2017—if successful, we will seek approval to use the fuel on routine commercial flights. This would also help pave the way for LanzaTech to fund and build their first commercial jet fuel plant, hopefully in the UK, to supply fuel to Virgin Atlantic.

  There are many other promising areas of development for cleaner flight today. First and foremost, there’s efficiency. In July 2016, Virgin Atlantic announced a $4.4 billion investment in a dozen new Airbus A350-100 aircraft. These have 30 percent lower carbon emissions than the Boeing 747-400 aircraft they’re replacing. One way to kick-start innovation toward solving seemingly intractable problems is by setting challenges like the Ansari XPRIZE. And similar thinking was behind the Virgin Earth Challenge, a $25 million prize for scalable and sustainable ways of removing greenhouse gases from the atmosphere.

  The idea, like so many good ones, came from my wife Joan. We were sitting in the kitchen on Necker talking about climate change, when she got straight to the point.

  “There must be some genius out there who can remove the carbon from the atmosphere,” she sighed.

  “There probably is,” I agreed. “But how do we find them?”

  “Why don’t you offer a prize?” she replied.

  That’s exactly what we did, bringing on board experts Dr. James Hansen, Tim Flannery, Jim Lovelock, Crispin Tickell and Al Gore to act as judges alongside me. Within a year of the challenge’s February 2007 launch more than 3,000 proposals had been delivered to my desk. Today it stands at over 10,000. After lengthy technical analysis, we have narrowed more than 2,000 thorough and sincere applications down to eleven hopefuls. It is not an easy prize to win. The rules of the challenge are designed to ask not just if they work, but how they will get to scale in the real world. Although we are looking for that eureka moment, perhaps it is a prize that no one will win. It is more likely that the world will get on top of the problem through thousands of different initiatives. But it’s worth a try, giving everyone a beacon to strive for.

  We went on to launch the nonprofit Carbon War Room to tackle climate change through practical business solutions. It has now merged with the Rocky Mountain Institute (RMI), marrying the Carbon War Room’s bold and agile entrepreneurial approach with RMI’s scale, experience and expertise. They are at the forefront of an energy revolution that can unlock the greatest wealth-creating opportunity in modern history. We’ve also joined Bill Gates’ Breakthrough Energy Coalition to stimulate reliable, affordable energy for the world. We’re investing in new energy technologies, working with more than twenty countries toward a carbonless future.

  Much more work needs to be done across the board if we are to meet our climate targets, and work together to create a better, more just, prosperous future for the planet and its people. We haven’t yet had the breakthroughs I’ve hoped for, but we have seen progress. In the meantime, the cost of wind, solar and battery power continues to reduce, moving us toward a world that one day could and should be powered by clean energy.

  Ten years after launching the Virgin Earth Challenge, on 29 April 2017 I traveled to the People’s Climate March in Washington. Alongside Al Gore and 200,000 people of all ages, we joined together to call for ambitious action against climate change. There was such positive energy and I particularly loved the creativity and humor of so many handmade signs. Among those I carried were: “Treat the planet like it’s Earth—not Uranus!” and “If you screw us we multiply!”

  Soon after we marched, President Trump took the US out of the Paris Agreement, a decision that could have catastrophic effects for the world’s climate and well-being. It is a policy of “America first. Earth last,” that will hurt everyone—Americans included. Climate change does not respect international borders, it imperils us all.

  However, the reaction was remarkable. A few years earlier, we had formed the B Team, an organization of leaders committed to a plan B for business. Now, the B Team, the Elders, RMI/Carbon War Room and business leaders globally reaffirmed their commitment to putting people and the planet alongside profit. The battle against climate change is being waged by a growing collective of businesses, individuals, officials and governments who understand this is the most important fight of our lives and will reap the $1 trillion opportunity it unlocks. At Virgin, we will continue to invest in renewable energy, to explore new clean fuels for our airlines, to invest in energy efficiency. For instance, one very exciting Rocky Mountain Institute/Carbon War Room initiative is working with various governments in Africa and the Caribbean to help achieve clean energy access.

  Paul Polman and my fellow B Team leaders and I were doing everything we could to convince more business leaders to raise their voices on this crucial issue. I contacted Elon Musk, who sat on the White House advisory council, to use his influence to convince President Trump not to make a terrible mistake.

  “Elon, can you intervene?” I emailed my friend.

  “I certainly will resign [from the advisory council] if the US withdraws from the Paris Agreement, but it is not clear whether threatening to do so will help or hurt. I will certainly strongly imply that I will have no choice but to do so. This is really fucking killing me btw. Goddamn it.”

  “Implying stronger. Agreed. Hope not necessary. Thank you.” Sadly, it was necessary, and Elon left the council when the US left the Paris Agreement.

  It remains to be seen what long-term da
mage the Trump administration will do to the environment, among other issues. While in Washington I also attended an event on the tented lawn of the Atlantic chairman David Bradley and his philanthropist wife, Katherine. I was seated at the same table as US Secretary of Defense James “Mad Dog” Mattis. That very night, President Trump’s ninety-ninth day in office, North Korea fired a missile that fell into the ocean. I thought to myself: as long as Mad Dog is sitting here eating his salad and not in a bunker, we know the world is not at war! After dinner I went over to President Obama’s house to catch up, wishing my host was still in charge over at the White House.

  CHAPTER 19

  Back on Track

  I was in the cinema in Zermatt, Switzerland, when my phone started to vibrate. We were over there on a family skiing holiday in February 2007, and had taken a break from the slopes to catch a film. As is my usual way on family time, I ignored the phone. I took a big handful of popcorn and munched away as the movie continued. But then the phone vibrated again. And again. And again. Something, I sensed, wasn’t quite right.

  Shuffling past Joan and the kids, apologizing to some Swiss cinema-goers as I squeezed by, I reached the end of the dark aisle. For some reason, the thought had entered my head that there was a problem with one of our planes, so I was surprised to pull my BlackBerry out to see that it was Virgin Trains’ CEO Tony Collins ringing. Returning the call, I left the auditorium to hear what Tony had to say.

  “There has been a major crash at Grayrigg in Cumbria,” he said, getting straight to the point. “I don’t know how many people are hurt, or if there are any fatalities, but it doesn’t sound good.”

  I knew immediately that I had to get there as quickly as possible. “Tony, I’m so sorry to hear that. I’m on my way right now,” I said.

  I went back into the cinema, apologizing again as I squeezed past to whisper to Joan and the kids what had happened. We hurried back to the hotel and after a torturous journey arrived in Manchester at five o’clock the next morning. At the airport, Tony and Will were waiting for me, and together we drove to the scene of the accident.

  It was cold and dark as we headed out into the depths of the countryside. Approaching the scene of the crash, we got out of the car and finished the last part of the journey on foot. The scene was a jarring mix of contrasts: sweeping across the landscape were the lush, green Cumbrian hills, but then, emerging out of this idyllic vision, the nightmare of an upturned train with the Virgin logo sticking up in the air appeared from down the bankside.

  As we walked along the track, Tony and some of the waiting officials filled me in on what was known about the accident so far. The previous evening’s 17:30 service from London Euston had set off on time for Glasgow Central, with 105 passengers and four members of staff on board. At 8:15 p.m., the Pendolino was coming down the track past Grayrigg at its planned speed of 95 mph, when it suddenly hit a set of points. The derailment brought down the overhead line equipment, and passengers reported the train rocking forcefully before it fell sideways and carriages were thrown from the track down a thirty-foot embankment. Local farmers reached the scene first, and were joined by more than a dozen ambulances and 500 rescuers, along with mountain rescue teams, police, air force and search-and-rescue helicopters, plus five fire engines. The rain was pouring down on the dark, muddy field, but they worked tirelessly through the night to evacuate the passengers.

  By the time I arrived officials had got everybody out of the train and were trying to clear the track and get it reopened. It was cordoned off with the police patrolling on all sides, and I stepped through the police tape as Tony pointed out the faulty bolts. Then we made our way toward where a small crowd was huddling.

  “What are you doing here, Richard?” a man asked.

  “Where else would I be?” I answered. This was our company, our team and our passengers—I wanted to do everything I could to help them. “If it was my daughter or my son on this train, I would like to think the owner of the business would be here,” I told him.

  My heart sank as I was told that an elderly lady had died in the accident. The family of Margaret Masson, an eighty-four-year-old Glaswegian, was in Royal Preston Hospital morgue. I went straight there to be with the family and we had a big hug, which I find is the best possible thing to do in such situations. We spoke quietly for a short time and then I went to visit our train driver, Iain Black, and the families of five passengers who were seriously injured. Thankfully they all made full recoveries. Next, I went over to Grayrigg Primary School, which had been turned into an emergency meeting point, met with passengers and thanked our staff who had worked through the night.

  There’s no question, the key thing after a major disaster is to get there quickly, deal with it head on and be both sympathetic and honest. Handling the aftermath of an accident involving your company is one of the hardest things a leader can do. I wouldn’t wish it on anybody. But, as hard as it is, it is nothing compared to what the loved ones of people who have died or been injured are going through.

  Having run airlines for several decades without serious incident, it is always something that is in the back of my mind. Whenever I get a call late at night, my first thought is that something bad has happened. The burden of leading companies that have people’s lives in their care is simply a part of being a leader. But in moments like this it weighs very heavily indeed. Whatever the situation, I do feel completely responsible when things go wrong. At the end of the day, it is my name above the shop. I get more than my fair share of credit when things go well and more than my fair share of blame when things go badly. I try to learn from both.

  We learned that the points had been poorly maintained and left unchecked by Network Rail: they were scheduled to have been inspected five days earlier, but Network Rail had failed to do so. After ensuring we had done everything we practically could to help the situation, I went to speak at a makeshift press conference in the middle of a field. I was expecting there to be some animosity toward us, or at least misunderstanding and misplaced blame. Instead, there was nothing but support. Although we were certain the accident was not our fault, we thought it would be in bad taste to criticize Network Rail. John Armitt, Network Rail’s CEO, responded with integrity, stating clearly from the onset that his organization was to blame. I praised our brave train driver: “He’s carried on sitting in his carriage for nearly half a mile, running the train on the stone—he could have tried to get back and protect himself but he didn’t, and he’s ended up quite badly injured. He is a definitely a hero.”

  Investigators told us the accident could have been far worse, with more injuries and fatalities, if it wasn’t for the strength of our Pendolino. After the accident, our relationship with Network Rail improved, and the public responded with support, too. They had seen how well the team handled an extremely tough situation.

  —

  The public response to the aftermath of the Grayrigg crash showed how far perceptions of Virgin Trains had changed since we’d been awarded West Coast Main Line franchise back in 1997. Over the next decade and a half, we had transformed that service from a clapped-out national embarrassment into the most used, most frequent railway in Europe. We took the line from thirteen million passengers a year at the start of the franchise to 91 percent satisfaction scores by 2012 and the busiest mixed-use railway in Europe with thirty-eight million passengers in 2017.

  When bidding for the franchise opened up again in 2012, we were confident of being given the contract once more, and made an aggressive but realistic bid to take the line forward. We outlined plans to grow annual passenger numbers to forty-nine million by 2026, adding more state-of-the-art Pendolino trains and delivering a proposed £4.8 billon premium to the government. The main rival bid for the line came from FirstGroup, who claimed they could pay the government £5.5 billion and grow customer numbers to sixty-six million. From our knowledge of the line, we thought their plan was unrealistic. Not only that, but t
hey had form on this sort of thing, and the government, passengers and taxpayers had suffered because of it before. Previously, FirstGroup had bid for the Great Western franchise with high premium payments, more than £1 billion loaded toward the end of the franchise period. They then withdrew from the franchise agreement before substantial payments were due. They made irresponsible bids, and if it all went wrong they would simply hand back the keys, having made a lot of money beforehand. It was like someone overpaying considerably for the freehold of a house, agreeing to pay a tiny percentage up front, arranging to live in it for ten years, then leaving before the bulk of the money was due. No owner in their right mind would accept such an offer. I am always willing to take risks, but they have to be calculated, not reckless.

  I assumed the DfT would agree. So when they announced in August 2012 that the West Coast Main Line franchise would be handed to FirstGroup, I was flabbergasted. I stared in disbelief when I saw the news flash up on the screen in the Temple on Necker, then reached for my phone to call Patrick McCall and see what he made of it.

  “This just doesn’t make sense,” he agreed. “They can’t fit that many people on the trains—the numbers just don’t add up.”

  As the days went by, it was all I could think about. As more details emerged about FirstGroup’s bid, it only confirmed our suspicion that the decision was nonsensical. I wrote to Prime Minister David Cameron and Chancellor George Osborne, as well as Transport Secretary Justine Greening, questioning the decision. I wouldn’t let it go for the simple reason that I believed we were right and could continue to make a difference. If we lost the West Coast Main Line, we would have no other franchise and thousands of wonderful employees would no longer be part of Virgin. The thought made me feel sick to my stomach.

  We continued weighing up our options, one of which was to request a judicial review of the decision and take the DfT to the High Court. As I’ve said, I hate going through the courts, but at least it would force the DfT to provide us with more information about the other bids and the process. We brought in expert legal counsel to evaluate our chances of winning if we opted to challenge the DfT’s decision. We were advised by our QC that our chances of success were less than 10 percent. Peter Norris, the Group chairman, our CEO Josh Bayliss and COO Ian Woods were against taking legal action. They thought it would be a waste of good money.