Best of British
If you ask somebody to name a successful British businessman, Sir Richard Branson is likely to be the first that will spring to their mind. Indeed, his reputation as an entrepreneur is international: he has both made a guest appearance on Friends and been the butt of the humour of The Simpsons, and has even taken to writing articles for Oxford University's second-favourite weekly paper in a bid for attention. It was therefore with some disappointment that on meeting Sir Richard I realised that, behind the carefully stage-managed image and the equally carefully tended facial hair of the Virgin tycoon, there is hidden a surprisingly normal bloke.
Of course, Branson is by no means an average guy - one look at his bank balance would prove that. But the charisma that comes across so well through photos and press releases about anything from a balloon trip to a new mobile phone company is surprisingly lacking in the flesh. This is the man who dressed up as a blushing-but-bearded bride for publicity, and yet he seems nervous and tentative both in addressing the Union and in conversation afterwards, repeatedly stroking his chin and offering a toothy smile when in mid-sentence he runs out of things to say.
And yet this may be where the root of Branson's appeal and success lies. Do people buy into the Virgin brand partly because they feel the man at the top is 'one of us'? Branson is clear that his down-to-earth manner has helped him, in that "if I'm, say, launching a financial services company I won't use words like 'bid offer spread', I'll use language which people understand because that's the language I understand." The unpredictable path his company has taken over the last two decades, whereby in his words "a lot of it has just been one challenge leading onto another", has given his rise to success a devil-may-care quality that marks him out from the stereotypical big-businessman; his image is that of the chirpy underdog taking on the established corporate hierarchy and winning, with Virgin's seemingly foolhardy challenge to British Airways a prime example.
One the domestic front, Branson is at pains to stress that he leads, as far as possible, a fairly quiet life. "My wife's from Glasgow, she's very down to earth and she's kept my feet on the ground," he says, insisting that while their Oxfordshire cottage is "big... it's not a mansion". He has also tried hard to give his children as normal an upbringing as possible, and is proud of his 20-year old daughter, currently studying medicine in London. Although the odd detail does let slip the truth that this man is hugely privileged - the odd mention of his "retreat in the Caribbean" sets him apart somewhat - his desire to take care of matters in life besides his bank balance does seem genuine.
Although the subtle hint intended in my question concerning his charitable nature (that certain students in his vicinity might be extremely grateful of a small contribution towards their tuition fees) went unnoticed, Branson is also clearly keen to put his wealth to the best use possible. While much of it is ploughed back into the business, he has set up a foundation to try to give back to society some of what it has given him. "One has to appreciate that there are a lot of people who have serious problems in life," he says. Unfortunately, he adds "we can help a few, but not an enormous amount." Never mind. Maybe the next billionaire I bump into will have a bit more spare cash handy.
Despite this let-down, by the end of the interview my initial disappointment that this mega-rich individual was in fact very similar to the rest of us had given way to a more optimistic feeling that perhaps, given a bit of luck and enthusiasm, a fraction of that sort of success might not be beyond the reach of us mere mortals either. Clearly Branson is a hugely talented businessman, but he still makes you feel like an equal when in conversation with you, a skill certain recent visitors to the Union have perhaps not been endowed with. The fact that he lacks the polished speaking style of most Union speakers actually makes you far readier to believe what he says. I'm sure he's no saint - to make so much money one must have a degree of ruthlessness - but perhaps the best indicator of his general likeability is that I failed to envy the man half as much as I had expected to.
9th May 2002