Finding My Virginity: The New Autobiography

by Richard Branson

  I have always thought political campaigning should be subject to the same rules that we have to comply with when advertising commercially. It is just as important that politicians are held to account for the veracity of their claims. Post-referendum, the Electoral Reform Society reported that the campaign was full of “glaring democratic deficiencies.” I agreed with its verdict that a public body should be formed to intervene when “misleading” claims were made by campaigns, with a “rule book” to govern campaign conduct. I think root and branch reform of the way referenda are run is needed. If this was the case, I am sure the vast majority of the Leave campaign’s statements would have been banned. But, scarily, they seemed to be convincing people. I was disgusted by the xenophobia I saw. One of the problems was that key newspapers such as the Daily Mail, the Sun, the Daily Express, the Daily Telegraph and the Sunday Times were campaigning aggressively for Brexit. I suspect this was partly because the vast majority of people who read newspapers are over fifty-five, and it was these generations who were trying to bring Britain back to an imagined golden age. In my opinion they were being completely deluded. Britain is a far greater country today than it was sixty years ago. However, it was now a country teetering on the edge of disaster.

  Events took a particularly dismaying turn on 16 June: Labor MP Jo Cox was killed in Birstall, West Yorkshire, after a constituency meeting. The murderer shouted “Britain first!” as he shot and stabbed Jo—it was clear to me he had been riled by the hateful Leave campaign. This was a cruel and pointless death. I was moved watching Jo’s husband Brendan act with such dignity as he said: “She would have wanted two things above all else to happen now, one that our precious children are bathed in love and two, that we all unite to fight against the hatred that killed her.”

  With opinion polls growing closer by the day, Virgin Group’s London head office registered a campaign with the Electoral Commission to encourage the British public to vote to remain in the EU. We wanted to get a positive message out about the benefits of the EU to counter the negative scaremongering. At the same time, we could have a little dig at the newspapers. We took out full pages in every paper, not disclosing the pro-Remain content until the ads were placed. Upon receipt, the Sun promptly doubled the price of the slot. We ran it anyway, along with social media advertising, concluding: “June 23rd will determine if voters would rather live in Little England or in Great Britain. And Great Britain has always stood for democracy, compassion, justice and inclusion. Let the arguments of the day not diminish its place in the world. If you agree with me I’d urge you to vote Remain.”

  In the days before the election, the opinion polls seemed to indicate that Brexit would not happen. Virgin Group carried on campaigning, giving a series of interviews and holding a joint event on 20 June with Virgin Money’s Jayne-Anne Gadhia, where we declared we were “VirgIN” for Europe. “Hands up who is voting Remain?” I asked the packed room of staff and reporters. The vast majority raised their hands. “It’s so important that everybody goes out and votes—unless, of course, you haven’t got your hand up!”

  That evening I went to Downing Street along with Jayne-Anne and Nick Fox to meet with David Cameron. We shared what was generally a very upbeat dinner. With Brexit dominating so much work and conversation for months, we tried to talk about a range of other topics, from drug reform to entrepreneurial loans. After around ninety minutes, I said to David, “Thank you very much for inviting us over, it’s been a delightful evening. Look, you’ve got young children; you should go off and spend some quality time with them.”

  Little did any of us know that he would soon have plenty more spare time.

  The next morning I awoke back on Necker to a huge amount of personal vitriol thrown at me in the press and on social media. As I scrolled through scores of four-letter insults on my Twitter timeline, I got a taste of what it must be like to be a politician.

  “I feel pretty sorry for MPs who have to deal with this every day,” I said to Joan at breakfast. “What a horrible way to spend your time, throwing insults at others.”

  But this was nothing compared to what was about to happen.

  —

  I was glued to the television as the results started rolling in around midnight. To my horror, and contrary to the polls, Leave narrowly won by 52 percent to 48 percent. My first reaction was shock. I couldn’t comprehend that the British people really believed they were better off out of Europe. I felt so sad that a country proud of its openness and inclusiveness was swinging away from that. It made me fearful for wider Europe, too.

  I was convinced voters had been tricked by the misinformation of the Leave campaign. A top Google search after the result was announced—“What is the EU?”—backed that up. Searches for “What happens if we leave the EU” more than tripled. The Brexiteers began backtracking on most of the promises they had made. Nigel Farage admitted his NHS claims were untrue, while Boris Johnson and Michael Gove squabbled and David Cameron resigned. Chaos abounded. Global share prices plummeted; the pound collapsed to its worst day in history against other major currencies; while the UK stock market dropped to its worst level since 2009. London house prices fell; flights to and from the UK were cut; the Bank of England predicted a slowdown, and leading experts warned of recession should the UK leave the Single Market.

  Scotland and Northern Ireland hinted strongly they would take further moves toward independence. Whitehall estimated it would cost half a billion in lawyer and consultancy fees to negotiate Brexit, with The Times stating “the bill could reach £5 billion over a decade.” Billions were wiped off company values; I received emails from US-based business leaders who told me they were canceling plans to create UK-based offices and expanding their businesses elsewhere in Europe instead. Leaders in Britain admitted they may be forced to relocate abroad. Virgin was, of course, among the businesses affected. Sales dropped across the board while costs soared. Most notably, Virgin Money shares collapsed by 45 percent and Virgin Atlantic went from forecasting a healthy profit to a loss. I thought people simply had not been told enough about what they had voted for and deserved the chance to be better informed. Rushing into Brexit without looking at all the options—legal, moral and political—seemed crazy. You don’t arrange your divorce the day after you’ve stormed out of the house!

  I flew to the UK from Necker on 27 June ready for the finale of Virgin Media Business VOOM, the UK and Ireland’s biggest pitching competition. The following morning I went onto the Good Morning Britain couch with the intention of discussing how VOOM was supporting Britain’s best new businesses with over £1 million in prizes. But instead, all they asked me about was Brexit. I told host Piers Morgan that I estimated Virgin had lost a third of its value overnight.

  “Look at bank shares, some of them have gone down by as much as 50 percent,” I said, adding that “the pound has collapsed to its lowest level in thirty years.”

  On reflection, it probably wasn’t prudent to share these details, but I was confident Virgin was strong enough to survive and thrive, whatever the market conditions. But this wasn’t about my business—it was about getting across the sheer scale of calamity Brexit was unleashing on Britain and Europe. After VOOM later that morning, I raced off to the first of a series of hastily arranged meetings. I felt that Virgin had to do something to encourage Westminster to act, before the country was irrevocably damaged.

  We arranged to see Home Secretary Theresa May. But when we left ITV Studios and hit the road, we found ourselves stuck in heavy afternoon traffic. My sense of urgency was killing me. “Now or never,” I thought, and jumped out of the car. I flew across Lambeth Bridge in my shiny red Under Armor trainers, surprising dozens of onlookers. We reached the Home Office just in time and were led into the Home Secretary’s sparse, frugal office—breathless, sweaty and frustrated. Trying to collect my thoughts, I explained that I was speaking on behalf of the international business community, but also from my own perso
nal experience of fifty years in business.

  “This will be a painful experience, not just for Virgin, but for many businesses. The biggest companies are protected because they have lots of earnings in dollars and in the short term their shares should rebound—it is small and medium-sized companies that will suffer. Jobs and wages will drop and the very people who voted for Brexit will be hit worst.” With the collapse in the pound, overnight everyone was considerably worse off. I also shared legal advice Virgin had received: “One of the top QCs in the country has told us Article 50 can only be invoked through an Act of Parliament. I have sent the legal advice we got to the Prime Minister and the Attorney General, too. It would be worth you taking this into account if you become Prime Minister.”

  The Home Secretary listened, nodded, but remained quiet. She kept her cards close to her chest, as she had throughout the campaign. Obviously she didn’t want to make any commitments either way. She was widely expected to announce her leadership candidacy later that day. I believe good leaders need to be good listeners. She was certainly listening. Whether she was agreeing or not, she didn’t give away.

  “What do you think government should do to calm business concerns?” she asked.

  “Call the whole damn thing off!” I wanted to shout. Instead, I said that it was critical she made it clear she would negotiate a deal that, at a minimum, gave businesses full access to the Single Market. Then I wished her luck in her leadership bid.

  Next, I went on to Number 11 to see Britain’s Chancellor of the Exchequer, George Osborne. As we sat down in the plush office, I couldn’t help but think how strange life can be. Only a few days before it had seemed extremely likely that Mr. Osborne would be the next Prime Minister when David Cameron stepped down. Now it looked like he would be out of a job (and, as it turned out, into a new one as the Evening Standard editor before long).

  “I suppose politicians are used to these massive shocks,” I said.

  “That doesn’t make it any easier,” he admitted.

  We left much as we had arrived: with a growing sense that absolutely no one in Westminster had any plan. They simply hadn’t imagined Leave would win.

  I traveled up to Holly and Sam’s home in Oxford, and spent a couple of blissful hours of playtime with my grandchildren. But I still couldn’t put Brexit out of my mind.

  “It’s my kids’ generation that is going to suffer,” Holly said to me. “Last week these kids had the option of living and working in twenty-eight European countries. Now they have one.”

  The following morning I joined business leaders from across the UK for the annual Fast Track 100. The mood was somber—their companies were already hurting. I ducked out of the proceedings at 3 p.m. to call David Cameron and repeat the legal advice Virgin had received.

  “We consulted with a top constitution lawyer, who made it clear the referendum was advisory, not legally binding. Under the British constitution, the Prime Minister cannot invoke Article 50 without going to the House of Commons for ratification.”

  He said no one had mentioned it to him, and asked us to send on our information to the Attorney General.

  I found it strange that the government’s lawyers didn’t seem to be on top of the legal ramifications of what they had got themselves into.

  That night I had dinner with a group of young people and we got talking about Brexit. The results showed that the UK’s younger generations were strongly in support of remaining in the EU: 73 percent of eighteen to twenty-four-year-olds voted for Remain. However, the decision was toppled by much older generations—who make up a larger chunk of the voting population.

  One young girl said: “It really makes me want to weep. These people over sixty, who will be dead before long, have ruined our opportunities and lives. There’s all this debate about letting sixteen-year-olds vote. They should be allowed—it’s over sixties who shouldn’t be allowed to vote.”

  She caught my eye as she said it, and only then realized that I was over sixty myself.

  “It’s OK,” I said. “I happen to agree with you that sixteen-year-olds should have the right to vote. They should have as much of a say as sixty-year-olds, and perhaps know more about the real world.”

  Sadly, this issue has divided families like no other, with many kids feeling their parents really let them down. Like everybody, I met people who voted for Brexit, such as my father-in-law, who I have always got on well with. After some pretty ferocious arguments we called a truce on the subject and decided not to speak about it. I suspect we weren’t alone in that.

  —

  In the aftermath, we were determined to keep moving. Whatever else is happening, I can always focus my mind upon business, make time for my family and prioritize the important things in life. I joined a board meeting on Moskito, where we covered everything from agreeing to new financing for Virgin Australia and Virgin Galactic to changes in our royalty portfolio. Virgin America picked up the Condé Nast award for best domestic airline in the US for a record ninth consecutive year, and Usain Bolt joined Virgin Media’s latest ad ahead of the Olympics. We signed off on an investment in a company I believed in passionately, smart doorbell service Ring.

  On Necker, I completely cleaned out our home. It had needed doing for years. I went through everything, chucking out stuff that had piled up over time—old t-shirts, files, trainers. I wanted to reorganize my life, and this was a good start. Everything was a jumble in the cupboards, so I created separate compartments for swimming, tennis, cycling, traveling. My mind-set is “if in doubt throw it out,” but Joan is a collector, so when it comes to spring cleaning there can be battles (fortunately she wasn’t at home!). It was a really worthwhile exercise and I felt more organized.

  Over in the UK, post-referendum chaos continued, with unpleasant, racist incidents on the rise and a complete lack of leadership when Britain needed statesmanlike behavior from its politicians. I was surprised to see news of my meeting with Theresa May had leaked.

  “I suppose I wasn’t exactly inconspicuous running into Westminster,” I said, looking at the headlines about our “Secret Brexit Talks.”

  As Boris Johnson and Michael Gove’s Machiavellian tactics backfired horribly, Mrs. May was emerging as the leading candidate to become Prime Minister. Meanwhile, David Cameron continued his duties as PM while the leadership campaign rumbled on. We had an appointment to meet at Farnborough Air Show on 11 July.

  When I arrived at Gatwick from the Bahamas, there were other exciting plans to reveal. We were introducing Virgin Atlantic’s new A350-1000 aircraft to our fleet. The $4.4 billion order was a real investment in the future of our airline. The A350 is 30 percent more fuel- and carbon-efficient than the aircraft it replaces in the fleet and is reducing the airline’s noise footprint at its airports by more than half. As Virgin Atlantic CEO Craig Kreeger put it, we were creating “one of the youngest, cleanest, greenest fleets in the sky.”

  We landed at the Farnborough Air Show, where David Cameron was on hand to celebrate the UK jobs the new planes would create.

  “The fantastic Airbus A350 is part-built in the UK with Rolls Royce engines and other suppliers across the country,” he announced. “It’s an investment in the UK itself, and our world-beating aerospace industry.”

  Afterward, we stood on the veranda looking at the Red Arrows as they performed a stunning display in the blue skies above. There were pictures of me putting my hand on his arm, leaning over and speaking. The first word I said to him was: “Bugger.” He agreed, and told me he expected to be in office for another two months, and was as busy as ever.

  We then departed, and within ten minutes the news came through that Theresa May’s main rival Andrea Leadsom had pulled out of the Tory leadership contest. I watched on as Mr. Cameron made the correct and only decision in stepping down, allowing Theresa May to become Prime Minister. How fast things change. Brexit had cost him his job and his legacy, and
was costing most companies and the country a whole lot more. Having said that, in my opinion he was a decent person who, Brexit aside, had done a pretty good job in tough circumstances.

  The Brexit debate rumbled on, and the UK is still no closer to knowing how it will end up. In retrospect I shouldn’t have spoken out immediately after the referendum; keeping my powder dry for two years would have been more effective. But it was a horrible feeling seeing companies we loved being damaged and knowing millions of people would suffer. I continued reading the views of experts, historians and politicians, eager to learn more. But the one that summed up Brexit best came from Groucho Marx: “Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly, and applying the wrong remedies.”

  Reflecting on my own forays in politics in 2016, I had broken my own rules. I don’t regret it. I was—and remain—so genuinely worried that I would have kicked myself more for not speaking out than for speaking out. There may be Brexit or Donald Trump supporters boycotting Virgin because I say what I believe in. Knowing Trump, there could be situations where Virgin loses out in America. But we’ll take that risk. Regretting not doing something is worse than regretting doing something. It means I can sleep with a clear conscience. We all have to fight for our values and protect the things that matter to us, but also appreciate the joys life brings us. I fully intend to continue doing both.

  CHAPTER 40

  Traingate

  To me, August means holidays with the family. It means Sam’s birthday and all of our friends and loved ones joining us on Necker Island. But for the media, August has always meant one thing: silly season. And August 2016 ended up being particularly silly, after the Leader of the Opposition in the UK decided to take a Virgin Train up to Newcastle.