Richard Branson: Business Stripped Bare

At Virgin, we try as far as we can to make people feel as if they are working for their own company. Our more senior people have share stakes or options in the companies they run and, as a result, we’ve created a lot of very successful people over the years. But however our staff are employed, every one of them should feel that, in some respect or other, they own their own work.

Within reason, this is more important to people than their salary. I’ll give you an example: Qantas’s cabin crew earn $66,400 a year on average based on ‘seniority’! Virgin Blue’s much younger crews get $40,000. Our crews clock in for over 700 hours a year. Qantas’s work for just 660 hours. This difference is likely to be eroded over time as the business matures, but in the meantime Virgin Blue’s customers are reaping the advantage in lower fares.

How is this possible? Are Virgin Blue’s staff of poorer quality?

Not a bit of it. Some people think airline hospitality is an easy job, and maybe it is — on paper. I’ve tried being an airline steward for a few days and I know just how hard it is. To get it right and have people come back again and again, the staff have to be absolute perfectionists in terms of their customer-service ability. So whereas at some airlines you could literally go into a pub on a Saturday night, hand out some business cards, train a few people up and that would be it, Virgin Blue puts its guest-facing crew through a rigorous five-stage recruitment process.

Why would they go through all that for a lower salary? Because Brett has introduced a reward system on Virgin Blue. Instead of creating a climate of fear, he has set things up so that the cabin attendants can take responsibility for their actions. He calls it ‘First to Know, First to Fix’, so that if cabin crew sort things out and it is recognised then they get a free flight ticket, which they can give out to anyone. This is typical of Brett’s approach. Another point he insists on is that people with self-discipline don’t need to be treated like naughty schoolchildren. It is important not to hammer people who make mistakes, provided they were made with honest intent.

After all, we only live once, and most of our time is spent at work, so it’s vital that we are allowed to feel good about what we do . Throwing yourself into a job you enjoy is one of life’s greatest pleasures — but it’s one that some leaders of industry seem determined to stamp out at all costs.

Enjoyment at work begins where all other enjoyments begin: in good health. I write this with no small twinge of conscience, as I do get unfit from time to time. Week after week goes by and I hardly seem to leave the air or airports. I think of Nelson Mandela: during his years in captivity, he kept himself fit with press-ups and sit-ups. He kept his brain alive with a daily routine of exercises. Recently I spent about four months travelling back and forth to Australia, and I could have done with some of Mandela’s spirit. I think I only managed an hour’s surfing during a one-night stop-off in Bali; at least the buzz from that kept me going for days.

There is no denying, it’s easier to stay fit in pleasant surroundings. Our Virgin health clubs make the experience as pleasant as possible, but it’s a lot easier to spend an hour chasing rays in the shallows off Necker than it is to slog up and down in a swimming pool. Still, exercise is a bullet worth biting, whatever your surroundings and whatever the pressures of the day. The more energy we can bring to our working days, the better.

It’s important, if you see someone overdoing it, to say, ‘Go on a holiday.’ If someone has lost a family member, let them take as much time off as they need. There’s no point in having people working under unmanageable stress. You’ve got to give people time to mend . It’s the decent thing to do, it makes practical sense and, when you’re in the kind of business we’re in, it may even, one day, save a life. Remember, we run airlines. We run train companies. We take people’s money and in return we hurtle them about the globe at hundreds of miles an hour. Our chief engineers need to ensure that their engineers are contented, fulfilled and enjoying their work. This is the only surefire method we know of inculcating a culture of safety and routine excellence — and Virgin’s safety record is, as a result, second to none.

While we’re on the subject, I might as well mention another one of our safety measures. You’ve probably noticed that all our trains and planes have names. By giving these huge, powerful, potentially lethal machines names, we help our people remember where they were working yesterday, or last week, or last month. We help them recall specific problems and gripes with individual engines, coaches or aisles. We make communication easier. People don’t have to reach for their diaries every time they’re asked about some niggling detail. We never forget that our engineers and flight crew are people, and we’d much sooner personalise our machinery than mechanise our staff.

I find it extraordinary that so many managers pay no attention to the fabric of their workplaces. How are people supposed to believe in your company when all they see of it, day after day, is a couple of dying pot plants and a fire extinguisher? At Virgin, we give people the tools they need to do their job properly. How else are they ever going to feel pride in where they work? Virgin people have told me that at the end of a tiring day, when they are off duty, having a drink in the pub, or a meal, they’re occasionally asked where they work. When they say, ‘With Virgin,’ the enquirer usually replies, ‘Lucky you! That must be a great place to work.’

Our staff usually agree.

For many of our companies, the work environment is also public space. On our planes, for example, we make sure that our seats are the most comfortable in the air, the food is excellent, the uniforms are the best and the planes are modern, safe and efficient. On board a plane, customer service and staff satisfaction are pretty much the same issue. They should be handled as one.

But a concern for surroundings is part of the general Virgin philosophy. It runs through all of our businesses, whether or not they deal directly with the public. We’re not talking about glitz or vast expense. We’re talking about providing people with the right tools for the job. Do that, and your employees will approach every day with freshness and enthusiasm. If you file and forget them in some kind of stationery museum, the keenest heart will wilt.

It occurs to me that so far in this chapter, I’ve been giving you a lot of ‘don’ts’. Don’t micromanage. Don’t ignore people’s needs. There’s a better way of looking at the manager’s role, and I can best express it by telling you about the first time I met Gordon McCallum.

Virgin Atlantic’s inaugural flight landed in San Francisco in 1996. As we celebrated, I was buttonholed by an extremely vivacious Irish marketing executive who worked for McKinsey & Co. She invited me to talk to a group of the company’s analysts and consultants at their California Street offices.

McKinsey’s consultants spend most of the working week in the offices of their client companies. As a consequence, they don’t get much time with each other. So they have made Friday lunchtime their chance to get together: a bonding session over a brown-bag lunch of chicken-mayo subs and fruit juices. Usually, they have a guest to talk about business. Now it was my turn. I got my invitation on the Wednesday; I turned up on the Friday.

Was I prepared? I was not. I cannot for the life of me remember what I said. Whatever it was, though, Gordon made the effort to keep in touch. Years later, I asked him what I said at the meeting that had hit a nerve with the McKinsey people.