they ever have found any trace of that secret. If Virgin’s executives, with Branson’s agreement, had not initiated the confession, their agreements with BA would not have been exposed.
‘Virgin wants to put down a marker about fixing the Passenger Fuel Surcharge with British Airways,’ said the Virgin lawyer. ‘Are we the first?’
‘Yes’, replied Hammond, disguising his surprise.
‘I want you to hold our place in the amnesty,’ said the lawyer.
‘You’re the first. You’ve got thirty days to perfect your marker and tell us if you’ve got something or not.’
Before the end of that period, Virgin Atlantic and its three senior executives formally confessed to the crime, and in exchange were granted immunity from prosecution and any punishment. The agreement was kept secret until, on 10 March 2007, Virgin’s lawyers approached the Office of Fair Trading (OFT) in London to admit the company’s involvement in a criminal cartel with BA and again ask for immunity from prosecution.
According to Virgin’s confession, the conspiracy with BA had started with a telephone call in August 2004 between Paul Moore, Virgin Atlantic’s director of communications, and Iain Burns, his counterpart at BA. Who initiated the call was disputed, but the content of the conversation was agreed. The two men discussed the time and date both airlines would announce the increase of a Passenger Fuel Surcharge to £6. After both referred their discussion to their superiors, the first of several secret agreements was implemented: both airlines would announce their own surcharge on the same day. The backgroundto that first conversation reflected Branson’s financial problems over the previous years.
The terrorist attacks on New York and Washington in September 2001 had cost Virgin Atlantic about £100 million over the following year. Despite Branson’s confident prediction that his airline would recover within three years, he had postponed the delivery of the new Airbus A380 double-deckers, saying some airports were not ready for the planes. The excuse was denied by Airbus’s spokesman, who added that no other airline had delayed delivery. To protect Branson from embarrassment, nothing more was said, but Virgin abruptly terminated publicity of Branson’s colourful promises about parties in the sky in the new plane’s bars and mile-high sex in its double beds. To conceal Virgin’s financial reality – and the airline is still not flying an A380 – Branson resorted to gimmicks to embarrass BA.
His first machination followed Concorde’s crash in Paris in 2000, which killed 113 people. In the aftermath, Air France and BA decided, on the manufacturer’s recommendation, to abandon the loss-making and unserviceable supersonic plane. Branson criticised that decision. Virgin Atlantic, he said, wanted to buy and fly Concorde. In 2003, he offered BA £1 for the aircraft, the price he said the airline had originally paid. When BA refused, Branson demanded that they should repay £600 million to the government in compensation for what Branson called the ‘hoodwink’ in the early 1980s. Next, he demanded that Tony Blair, the prime minister, save Concorde. Many were puzzled by his sustained attack. Concorde usually flew half full, lacked spare parts, cost a fortune in fuel and damaged the environment. Yet Branson, despite his financial problems, insisted that Virgin wanted to inherit the plane. The government refused. ‘Branson’s just looking for publicity,’ was BA’s comment.
His next wheeze occurred during Virgin Atlantic’s inaugural flight to Australia. Branson offered his passengers sick bagsdecorated with the ill-fated ethnic designs which BA had painted on the tails of its aircraft. BA had discarded the designs amid ridicule.
The third ploy reflected Branson’s habit of enjoying a competitor’s discomfort. In the aftermath of 9/11, Branson pointedly mentioned BA’s financial difficulties, especially as a result of
‘Virgin wants to put down a marker about fixing the Passenger Fuel Surcharge with British Airways,’ said the Virgin lawyer. ‘Are we the first?’
‘Yes’, replied Hammond, disguising his surprise.
‘I want you to hold our place in the amnesty,’ said the lawyer.
‘You’re the first. You’ve got thirty days to perfect your marker and tell us if you’ve got something or not.’
Before the end of that period, Virgin Atlantic and its three senior executives formally confessed to the crime, and in exchange were granted immunity from prosecution and any punishment. The agreement was kept secret until, on 10 March 2007, Virgin’s lawyers approached the Office of Fair Trading (OFT) in London to admit the company’s involvement in a criminal cartel with BA and again ask for immunity from prosecution.
According to Virgin’s confession, the conspiracy with BA had started with a telephone call in August 2004 between Paul Moore, Virgin Atlantic’s director of communications, and Iain Burns, his counterpart at BA. Who initiated the call was disputed, but the content of the conversation was agreed. The two men discussed the time and date both airlines would announce the increase of a Passenger Fuel Surcharge to £6. After both referred their discussion to their superiors, the first of several secret agreements was implemented: both airlines would announce their own surcharge on the same day. The backgroundto that first conversation reflected Branson’s financial problems over the previous years.
The terrorist attacks on New York and Washington in September 2001 had cost Virgin Atlantic about £100 million over the following year. Despite Branson’s confident prediction that his airline would recover within three years, he had postponed the delivery of the new Airbus A380 double-deckers, saying some airports were not ready for the planes. The excuse was denied by Airbus’s spokesman, who added that no other airline had delayed delivery. To protect Branson from embarrassment, nothing more was said, but Virgin abruptly terminated publicity of Branson’s colourful promises about parties in the sky in the new plane’s bars and mile-high sex in its double beds. To conceal Virgin’s financial reality – and the airline is still not flying an A380 – Branson resorted to gimmicks to embarrass BA.
His first machination followed Concorde’s crash in Paris in 2000, which killed 113 people. In the aftermath, Air France and BA decided, on the manufacturer’s recommendation, to abandon the loss-making and unserviceable supersonic plane. Branson criticised that decision. Virgin Atlantic, he said, wanted to buy and fly Concorde. In 2003, he offered BA £1 for the aircraft, the price he said the airline had originally paid. When BA refused, Branson demanded that they should repay £600 million to the government in compensation for what Branson called the ‘hoodwink’ in the early 1980s. Next, he demanded that Tony Blair, the prime minister, save Concorde. Many were puzzled by his sustained attack. Concorde usually flew half full, lacked spare parts, cost a fortune in fuel and damaged the environment. Yet Branson, despite his financial problems, insisted that Virgin wanted to inherit the plane. The government refused. ‘Branson’s just looking for publicity,’ was BA’s comment.
His next wheeze occurred during Virgin Atlantic’s inaugural flight to Australia. Branson offered his passengers sick bagsdecorated with the ill-fated ethnic designs which BA had painted on the tails of its aircraft. BA had discarded the designs amid ridicule.
The third ploy reflected Branson’s habit of enjoying a competitor’s discomfort. In the aftermath of 9/11, Branson pointedly mentioned BA’s financial difficulties, especially as a result of
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