Steve Varsano on Corporate Jets, Dealmaking, and Buying Back Time

When we hear the phrase private jet, most of us picture champagne, status, and excess. Steve Varsano sees something else, a business tool, a time machine, and a product that buyers often misunderstand until someone explains it properly.

That is what makes his story so good. It is not only about aircraft. It is about work ethic, judgment, sales, and the difference between looking successful and being useful.

A first flight at 14 changed everything

Steve Varsano did not grow up around wealth, aviation, or polished boardrooms. He grew up in a rough part of New Jersey, raised by a single mother supporting four kids while working two jobs. He had been working since childhood, sweeping floors, washing dishes, and waiting tables.

Then came the turning point. At 14, he joined a friend and that friend’s older brother for a small plane ride. The moment the aircraft lifted off, something clicked. He knew he wanted to fly.

That kind of early clarity is rare. As Varsano points out, many young people now see endless images online but get fewer real-world experiences. They may consume ambition all day and still not know what they want to do.

He took the hard route from the start. He would work for three or four weeks just to pay for a single hour of flying time. That early pattern matters because it shows the theme that runs through the rest of his career: he did not wait for the perfect setup, he bought progress one hard-earned step at a time.

From aviation school to Capitol Hill, then into jet sales

Varsano studied aviation in college and landed an early role in Washington representing aircraft and engine manufacturers. At only 22 or 23, he was walking the halls of Congress, helping protect the industry from harmful legislation and arguing for policies that supported jobs and growth.

By his own telling, it was an ego job. The title sounded impressive. The pay did not.

So he worked nights in a Washington nightclub, and that side job changed his life. One evening he noticed a man with a jet tie pin. That man sold jets. A few conversations later, Varsano saw what the commissions looked like and decided he had to get into the business.

He pushed until the boss agreed to hire him, but with one catch that Varsano suggested himself: hire him for free until he sold something. That gave him a way in, and after nine months he closed his first aircraft deal, a Westwind II for $3.2 million.

The first sale was part thriller, part career test

That first transaction could have ended his career before it started. The buyer was a Venezuelan billionaire, and the closing involved representatives, tax mechanics, and a handoff that moved through North Carolina and then Miami.

What followed sounds more like a film than a sales story:

• Two buyer representatives demanded a personal fee after the deal was done.
• Varsano refused because the amount matched what his company was making.
• One of the men pulled a gun and told him he was going to Venezuela until they got paid.
• After landing in Miami, Varsano escaped through the terminal when one man stepped away to pay for fuel.
• He jumped into a taxi, hid out, confirmed the deal had closed, and got back to Washington safely.

He described the emotional swing perfectly. One moment he felt like James Bond on his first jet deal. The next, he felt like a terrified kid trying to get home alive.

The striking part is not only the story itself. It is that he stayed in the business. Many people would have walked away. He sold another plane instead.

A career detour helped create The Jet Business

Varsano spent six years at that first firm, then moved through other roles in aviation before working closely with a billionaire dealmaker involved in mergers and acquisitions. That led to 15 years around major corporate transactions and high-level operators during the takeover-heavy years of the late 1980s and 1990s.

Then came a sharp turn. Through family business ties, he entered fast food, helped run a restaurant group with 2,600 locations, and later worked in an international role after the company was sold to Yum Brands. That chapter took him to London in 2003 and sent him across Central and Eastern Europe, including Russia and Ukraine.

It looked like a break from aviation. It was not. The fast food business card got him into CEOs’ offices, and once he was inside, he kept noticing aircraft models sitting on desks. That reopened old relationships and built new ones.

After his marriage ended, he left the food business and returned fully to aircraft. This time he had a bigger idea: instead of selling jets from airports and back offices, why not build a city showroom where buyers could learn in comfort?

That became The Jet Business in Mayfair, London, widely recognized as the first street-level showroom dedicated to corporate aircraft. Corporate Jet Investor’s profile of the showroom captured why it stood out so quickly, and The Jet Business still centers its offering on that in-person education model.

Varsano says the first six months were brutal. High rent, high overhead, and a concept most people had never seen made the launch feel fragile. Yet once the first sales came through, media attention followed. Later, social media expanded the reach again.

Why Steve Varsano says “corporate jet,” not “private jet”

One of the clearest takeaways from the conversation is terminology. Varsano dislikes the phrase private jet because he sees it as misleading. In his view, corporate jet is usually the more accurate term.

His reasoning is simple. Most aircraft are owned through companies or special-purpose entities, not by individuals using them only for leisure. He says roughly 70 percent of passengers are middle managers, about 20 percent are C-suite travelers, and less than 10 percent of use is purely personal.

That lines up with a broader truth in business aviation: the aircraft often serves a mission first, not an image. Matching that mission well matters. As we have covered in our look at aircraft selection, the right starting point is route length, passenger count, baggage load, runway needs, and cabin size, not the biggest jet or the flashiest badge.

Varsano also shared a useful snapshot of the market. He put the global fleet at roughly 24,000 corporate jets, with about 60 percent based in the United States and about 15 percent in Europe. He contrasted that with China, where airspace control and airport access still limit growth. Recent business jet market reporting continues to show how dominant the U.S. remains in activity and fleet concentration.

London, meanwhile, was both a life decision and a business decision. Varsano has been candid that love brought him there. Still, he also saw a gap in the international market and turned London into a base. He notes that the city’s wealthy client mix has shifted in recent years, shaped by taxes, geopolitics, and post-COVID travel patterns, with more movement toward hubs like Monaco and Dubai.

The best salespeople do not feel like salespeople

Varsano’s strongest business insight has very little to do with aircraft. He believes face-to-face contact still beats phone calls and video calls when the stakes are high. A showroom helps because it lets clients learn fast, ask questions freely, and react in real time.

That is also why his style works. He does not describe himself as a hard closer. He wants to educate first, because educated buyers make firmer decisions.

The strongest pitch in corporate aviation is often no pitch at all. Teach well enough, and the buyer begins to trust their own decision.

That approach runs through everything he says about relationships. He does not walk into a room and start talking to billionaires about airplanes. He waits for the door to open. He lets friendship and trust come first. Sometimes business grows out of that naturally.

He also makes a sharp point about personal brand. In his view, people are brands long before companies are. The core rule is simple: do what you say you will do, and do it when you said you would do it. Reliability beats polish.

At the same time, he does not confuse authenticity with rigidity. He agrees that we all need to adapt. The way we speak with a CEO should not be the way we speak with a pilot, spouse, lawyer, or mechanic. That is not being fake. That is reading the room.

His negotiation style follows the same logic. Buyers will almost always say the price sounds high, no matter what the number is. So he avoids apologizing for price and focuses on justification, pedigree, maintenance status, equipment, and fit. His point is blunt and memorable: nobody wants the cheapest sushi restaurant, so why chase the cheapest aircraft without asking what is missing?

Why people fly corporate, and when ownership makes sense

One of the most useful parts of the conversation is Varsano’s rejection of the fantasy version of private aviation. Most corporate jets are not floating penthouses. Many feel closer to a well-appointed van in the sky than a palace. The true luxury is not caviar. It is time.

That view matches much of what the industry’s biggest access providers have built their businesses around. Large fleets, card programs, and fractional shares exist because many clients do not need full ownership. They need dependable access, consistent service, and a model that fits how often they fly.

Varsano’s framework is practical:

He argues that if you are below that 150 to 200 hour range, you usually should not own. Fractional access or card programs can be a better match because the pricing is more stable and the aircraft quality is more predictable. If you want a deeper look at those access models, our guide to top private jet membership programs is a good companion read.

He also points to the time gain. A corporate jet flying about 400 hours a year can add the equivalent of weeks back into an executive’s schedule when compared with commercial travel. That includes less wasted time in terminals, more direct airport access, and productive work in the cabin. For many firms, that is the real return.

At the same time, newer buyers now think harder about optics, operating cost, and aircraft age. That is one reason interest in newer fleets and eco-friendly private jets keeps growing alongside traditional performance concerns.

Corporate jet etiquette still matters more than people think

For readers who care about the lifestyle side of private aviation, the etiquette section is worth saving. Varsano’s rules are simple, old-school, and completely right.

1. Take the less desirable seat first. Let the owner or host set the cabin order.
2. Do not dominate the flight with chatter. Follow the tone that the host sets.
3. Do not overeat or overdrink. Start with water, not champagne.
4. Keep the flight private. Photos and videos are not automatic.
5. Never compare the aircraft to someone else’s jet.
6. Pack light, and ask about luggage limits before showing up.

These rules sound obvious, but the story Varsano told proves they are not. He recalled a couple boarding a nine-passenger jet with 14 pieces of luggage. It got worse. To make room, the other passenger tried to leave Varsano’s own bags behind for a later flight. That is not bad etiquette. That is social sabotage in travel form.

There are also implied rules that no polished traveler needs explained twice. Respect the cabin. Respect the crew. Respect the fact that you are a guest.

The bigger lesson has nothing to do with airplanes

The conversation ends in a place that feels bigger than business aviation. Varsano prefers the positive over the cynical. He dislikes fake posturing, social media exaggeration, and the modern version of macho behavior that confuses aggression with strength.

His standard is much simpler: be truthful, be nice, and do not build a life around how strangers might judge you.

That is why his career story lands so well. The aircraft are interesting, but the deeper lesson is about credibility. People trust the person who knows the product, keeps their word, reads the room, and does not need to perform importance.

In a market built on speed, status, and high stakes, that may be the rarest asset of all.