Atlassian defends climate warrior CEO’s private jet bill

Such are the costs of being rich and famous, we suppose. Atlassian’s partnership with Formula 1 racing team Williams means Cannon-Brookes just has to burn all that jet fuel to go to the Grand Prix, doesn’t it? Or he risks being seen as lacking faith in his own team.

And he’s done plenty of travel, according to Atlassian’s latest proxy statements to the US markets.

The global software giant reimbursed Cannon-Brookes $US1.9m for travel in his luxury $75m Bombardier 7500 in the company’s last fiscal year.

That’s until he certified the aircraft as a charter vehicle last November, and presumably listed himself on whatever version of Uber that rich people use.

Atlassian handed over another $US1.8m for the remainder of the year in renting the Bombardier when its founder needed the plane for business use.

Cannon-Brookes, as the plane’s owner, received “substantially all of the fees” for those charter flights.

But, fear not, Atlassian shareholders, he’s not rorting the system.

Not only has the bearded climate warrior never had to reimburse the company for ferrying around friends and family on the jet on private use, he certainly doesn’t profit from the rental.

“Due to the fact that the predetermined rate we pay for the use of the private aircraft is less than the actual operational costs incurred, Mr Cannon-Brookes does not profit from this arrangement,” the company told its shareholders.

“The arrangements allow for significant benefits in terms of safety, security, efficiency, privacy, confidentiality, flexibility, and productivity for Mr Cannon-Brookes’ role as CEO.”

And it’s value for money, it really is. Seriously. If Atlassian bought the jet, or rented one from a charter company that wasn’t run by its founder, it would cost the company far more.

“We believe the amounts we pay pursuant to this arrangement are reasonable, necessary, appropriate, and for the benefit of us and our stockholders, particularly in light of their business purpose and the fact that Mr Cannon-Brookes receives only a nominal salary and does not receive any bonus payments, equity awards or other incentive compensation,” the company says.

When The Australian took a close look at his flight records a few months ago, Cannon-Brookes’ plane had already racked up enough air miles to get him to the moon and part of the way back.

That’s a lot of flight time for a man who has “deep internal conflict” about even owning one. And the luxury jet is also subject to an “extremely rigorous carbon regime” for its use, which Cannon-Brookes claims means the flights have a net negative carbon footprint.

Not as negative as it could be without trips to watch the Grand Prix events in the UK, Montreal and Miami – or, most recently, to Austin, to unveil Williams’ “heritage livery”.

And he still does fly commercial occasionally. Once, at least, after The Australian started poking around in the Bombardier’s flight records.

To be fair to Atlassian, though, at least the company is prepared to tell shareholders how much it spends flying Cannon-Brookes around the world on his own jet.

Unlike, for example, Fortescue, which owns the Bombardier 7500 used by chairman Andrew Forrest in his global campaign against carbon emissions, but doesn’t bother to break out its cost to shareholders.

Humblebrag or Mayday signal?

Did BHP boss Tim Day get stuck in a lift? Had Rio Tinto finally made an offer too good to refuse? Or was the Big Australian sending out a desperate Mayday call over its iron ore negotiations with China?

All of these questions and more were getting asked by baffled West Australians on the weekend, after the side of BHP’s Perth offices were lit up with what looked like an SOS call – or the words SUS, writ large on the side of its offices.

 

It turns out it was none of the above, but just the incomplete version of a BHP humblebrag at the size of its $5.5m donation to Kerry Stokes’ Telethon in Perth at the weekend.

Pictures of a later version posted to BHP’s WA Facebook page did have the dollar sign, which eventually helped settle the confusion.

Mind you, given the size of the ad campaign BHP is currently running to remind everyone of its 140th birthday, you’d think it might also have sprung for something a little bit more sophisticated than blocking up a few windows in the office to get the message through.

Or perhaps the mining giant could have settled with being happy with doing good for good’s sake?

Still, given Stokes’ notoriously fierce devotion to the annual fundraiser, it’s probably worth highlighting your generosity while he’s still the biggest media mogul in the country.

This article first appeared in the Margin Call section of The Australian as Atlassian declares $5.7m private jet costs for climate warrior CEO; BHP’s message a bit SUS