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'The most common dream I have is flapping my arms and taking off."

Sir Richard Branson offers this information from a chair, where he is seated squarely, in Toronto's Spoke Club.

He dreams this often?

"I do," the daredevil adventurer and founder of Virgin Group replies solemnly.

Jungian psychologists would have a lot to say about that.

"I'm sure they would," retorts the married, 57-year-old father of two children who is estimated to be Britain's 11th richest person, with a fortune of £3.1-billion ($6.2-billion). "There must be an element of showing off," he offers with his gaze firmly at his feet.

Sir Richard has flown into Toronto on his private plane for little more than 24 hours to attend last Monday's star-studded fundraising gala in support of Virgin Unite, the independent charitable arm of his conglomerate. With burlesque performer Dita Von Teese, singer Elvis Costello and illusionist Criss Angel as entertainment, the event raised more than $2-million.

He is Action Man, a rugged, fearless and unflappable boy-adult, in a fine wool sports coat and jeans, who can endure anything. He floats through the gauntlet of interviews as if aboard a balloon, unfazed by turbulent questions, forever gracious, smooth. His helicopter people - the phalanx of handlers from Virgin Mobile Canada and a local public-relations firm - rescue him when time is up.

"I spend about 50 per cent of my time now on social issues rather than business issues," Sir Richard remarks. He says he is not relinquishing control of Virgin Group, which is among the largest privately owned corporations in Europe with almost 300 business interests and 55,000 employees. He owns the airline carriers Virgin Atlantic, Virgin Nigeria, Virgin Blue (in Australia) and Virgin America, the expansion of which he announced recently with one of his over-the-top acts of publicity - rappelling off the side of the Palms hotel in Las Vegas.

The title of his latest book, Screw it, Let's Do It, appears to be his entrepreneurial imperative. Among his other companies are Virgin Trains, Virgin Media, Virgin Mobile, Virgin Money, Virgin Active (spas and health clubs), Virgin Games (gambling), Virgin Drinks and Virgin Brides. You can buy condoms, makeup, wine, a holiday on a game preserve, a limousine ride, a helicopter service and, in 2009, a trip into outer space from a Virgin company. For $46,000 (U.S.) a day, you could also purchase a group holiday on Necker Island, his private Caribbean retreat in, you guessed it, the British Virgin Islands.

His fortune started with Virgin Records, which he founded as a mail-order business when he was a teenager who'd dropped out of Stowe, a prestigious boys school in England. "It was going to be either Slipped Disc or Virgin, and fortunately we went for Virgin," he explains. "I had great trouble registering the name. [The registry office] thought it was rude, so I had to write a long letter to say that it was the opposite of rude."

But if his entrepreneurial focus was once primarily on giving the world what it wants, he is now concentrating on delivering what it needs. The charitable foundation Virgin Unite aims to establish what he calls a "war room" that would search for best practices addressing Africa's medical crises and co-ordinate initiatives cost-effectively.

But some of his initiatives smack of his trademark publicity-grabbing strategy. One Virgin Unite program, Heaven's Angels, sends health-care workers on motorbikes into remote sub-Saharan areas to deliver essential services. Isn't there the danger that this seems too gimmicky?

"I don't think philanthropy has to be stuffy," he says calmly. "There are a lot of things that Virgin Unite does that we don't publicize. We just built a big clinic in South Africa for AIDS patients ... [but] you can't generate wealth and donations for something like that. With Heaven's Angels, you can capture people's imaginations."

The Virgin way has always been to enter a field and address the problems in an unconventional, fresh manner. Sir Richard is a latecomer to the environmental cause, he concedes. As someone in the transportation business, it was "wishful thinking" when he believed global-warming skeptics.

But when he announced a few years ago that he was going to build an oil refinery because of the price of oil, Al Gore and Ted Turner called him up, he says. He read books and studies, and later met James Lovelock, the scientist who called attention to ozone erosion and posited the Gaia hypothesis, the idea that the world works as an interconnected superorganism.

Sir Richard has the zeal of a recent convert, but his environmental initiatives have encountered some criticism. Last year, he pledged $3-billion (U.S.) over 10 years, including 100 per cent of proceeds from Virgin's transportation interests, to invest in development of clean fuels. Some people argue that the effort is rife with self-interest. The only way to save the planet, they point out, is to encourage people to change behaviour - in other words, not to fly so much.

"We have a choice," the maverick says bluntly. "We either sell our planes to someone else and they'll carry on flying them and 100 per cent of profits go to shareholders, or we keep our planes flying and we pledge 100 per cent of profits to developing fuels so that people can fly in the future without damaging the environment. Obviously I'm biased, but I think the latter course is best."

Next February - 10 months ahead of schedule, he points out - Virgin will fly its first 747 plane with a percentage of its tank filled with clean fuel.

Virgin has also recently sponsored a competition offering $25-million to anyone who finds a way to remove carbon already in the atmosphere.

In part, his love of flying has fuelled his environmental enthusiasm. "You see the world from a different perspective," he says, when discussing his various near-fatal attempt to circumnavigate the globe in a hot-air balloon without stopping.

"I imagined the world being ruined if you saw it from above, but what was fascinating on the balloon trip is how much of the world is beautiful and pristine. Fortunately, mankind stays in these little cities and you see these clusters of lights when you go around the world, but for thousands of miles, you see nothing," he says, his voice light and dreamy.

"I want to do everything I can to protect it," Sir Richard concludes.

Which makes sense. After all, from on high, the environment fits his brand. It looks like a virgin.

shampson@globeandmail.com