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Billionaires say a private jet is one of life's greatest luxuries. Here's how much it costs.

Billionaires say a private jet is one of life's greatest luxuries. Here's how much it costs.

More than 15 years ago, Oprah Winfrey shared one of her famous nuggets of wisdom: "It's great to have a private jet," she said at Duke University's 2009 commencement. "Anyone that tells you that having your own private jet isn't great is lying to you."
But she did leave out one detail: Having a private jet is expensive — really expensive.
Costs such as crew, custom features, and maintenance can add to the already hefty price tag of purchasing a private plane, companies that manage these and charter fleets told Business Insider.
"There is a lot that goes into owning an airplane, a lot of expenses that aren't on the surface," said Jamie Walker, the executive chairman of jet management company Jet Linx.
Some of the most popular private jet models — the Bombardier Challenger 300 and 350, the Embraer Phenom 300, the Cessna Citation XLS+, and the Gulfstream G550 — cost between $9.5 million and $33 million brand new, Walker estimated. The cost fluctuates by model. But even when purchased used, many list for sale for eight figures.
That's not including customization, which is "where things get fun," Walker said.
See: Paris Hilton's "SlivAir," a Gulfstream G450 with a Barbie pink paint job and "That's Hot" written on a wing.
"We've seen clients spend anywhere from a few hundred thousand to several million on customizations," Walker said, who compared it to "building a luxury home."
Interior upgrades like custom cabinetry and headrests imprinted with logos start at about $65,000. Premium woodwork and Hermès leather seats can exceed $1 million. WiFi from Starlink or L5 can cost between $120,000 and $450,000.
A private jet can cost more than $1 million a year to run
Once a jet is delivered, the costs of operating it start to add up. Leona Qi, the president of the US division of charter firm VistaJet, estimated that it typically costs more than $1 million a year to run a single jet.
Members of a private jet's crew — at least two pilots, sometimes an air host — are typically considered full-time employees. Each can earn between $150,000 and $400,000 a year. They also have to be properly certified, trained, and insured, at the owner's cost.
While some jet maintenance is scheduled — much like a car's, it's based on mileage and crew — unexpected fixes can leave an unlucky owner seven figures in the red in a bad year. An engine overhaul, for example, can cost as much as $1.5 million per engine, Walker estimated (and most jets have two).
Then there's a hangar. A parking spot in New York or Miami can cost as much as $450,000 a year, significantly more than one in smaller cities like Omaha or St. Louis. Fuel can make up about one-third of all ownership costs, Walker said. And most private jet owners hire a company to manage it all. Jet Linx said it charges between $7,000 and $12,000 a month for its management services.
To charter or not to charter? That is the multimillion-dollar question.
The expenses and headaches of owning a plane have some uber-wealthy turning to charter.
Qi at the jet charter company said she doesn't think it makes financial sense to own an aircraft unless you fly more than 350 hours a year, want a completely personalized jet with a toothbrush and a set of fresh clothes on board, or need it at a moment's notice.
Through charter companies like VistaJet, members can buy a certain number of flying hours a year, while fractional ownership firms like NetJets sell members a share in a specific aircraft.
Even when money is no object, some of the wealthiest in the world choose to charter out of privacy concerns. Privately owned jets can be tracked by the public, while charter jets — whose passengers aren't revealed publicly — are much more discreet.
"The group had a plane and we sold it," LVMH CEO Bernard Arnault said of his company's jet, speaking in 2022 on a French radio station. "The result now is that no one can see where I go because I rent planes when I use private planes."
Others charter jets when they can't use their personal planes. As many as 50% of VistaJet's clients own their own jets but use VistaJet as a backup service when their aircraft is undergoing maintenance or is already in use, the company said.
On the other hand, there are private jet owners who don't use their planes very often and charter them out to mitigate some of the costs associated with ownership. (They do something similar with their superyachts.)
"Most people who are unfamiliar are surprised," Walker said. "They're like, 'Really, people with that much wealth and companies that are that big that make that much money care about offsetting half a million bucks?' And they do. They absolutely care about that."
Well, they care, but not enough to forgo a plane altogether.
Look at the infamously frugal Warren Buffett, who resisted a private jet for years. Once he splurged, there was no looking back.
"Were I to die tomorrow, you could be sure Berkshire's earnings would increase by $1 million annually, since Charlie would immediately sell our corporate jet, The Indefensible (ignoring my wish that it be buried with me)," he wrote in Berkshire Hathaway's 1990 investor letter.
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The H-1B has given me so many opportunities. But even after 12 years, my life in the US feels unstable and temporary because of it.
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The H-1B has given me so many opportunities. But even after 12 years, my life in the US feels unstable and temporary because of it.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Surbhi Madan, 30, a senior software engineer at Google. She lives in New York. It has been edited for length and clarity. Business Insider has verified her employment and visa details. I came to the US in 2013 to pursue a bachelor's at Brown University. I was inspired by my older brother, who went to the US for his master's and liked the teaching approach. College was a big cultural adjustment, and I wasn't prepared for how cold the East Coast got. Still, I loved building an independent life, finding new hobbies, and meeting people from all over the world. During my four years of college, I didn't think seriously about my long-term future in the US. I interned at Google's New York office one summer and landed a full time offer with the company a semester before I graduated. I kicked off the process for my Optional Practical Training and received my H-1B visa in the lottery on my first try. While the one-third probability of getting picked in the lottery remains the same since I applied in 2017, the job market when I graduated felt better. Companies were hiring and willing to sponsor H-1B applications. I feel like I got really lucky when I compare it to the situation for recent graduates now. Long-term stability I've been with Google for eight years and have grown to become a senior software engineer. I'm in a phase of my life where I'm thinking about long-term stability. I'm looking for leadership roles and have considered a career change. In college, I was a teaching assistant, and I still volunteer for teaching opportunities, especially for women in tech causes. I've thought about pivoting into a teacher career or pursuing teaching opportunities along with a full-time job, but a work visa like the H-1B doesn't allow for either of those options. I enjoy my work, but there is an internal expectation to do well because my performance is the only thing in my hands. I cannot control the economy or the layoffs that have been sweeping tech. I'm not putting down roots I've been living in the US for 12 years. My challenges feel very different from my friends who are US citizens. I have friends involved in activities like bike lane advocacy in New York. I refrain from volunteering because it means contacting my immigration lawyer to make sure it's safe to get involved. I'm anxious about making mistakes when I drive or file taxes because I don't want anything to threaten my stay in the country. Because of the visa, my life in the US feels temporary. I have friends who are buying apartments. I find it hard to put down permanent roots. I have an option to renew my apartment lease for one or two years, and I always choose one year because I never know how long I'll be allowed to live in the US. One time, I was returning to the US after traveling abroad. At immigration, a US border officer asked me about the purpose of my visit, to which I replied, "I live here." I remember him saying, "You don't live here; you work here," which left a mark on me. I remember thinking: "It's true." My visa has become a consideration in my family planning, too. I'm 30, and I have been looking into egg freezing as an option. While researching the process, I thought about what would happen if I no longer had working rights in the US and wanted to retrieve the eggs. I had this vision of rolling into the US on a tourist visa with a suitcase to pick up my eggs, and I thought: "It's not worth it." I also can't imagine having a person depend on me while I'm on a temporary status tied to having a job. Once a year, I sit down and have a check-in with myself. I take into account the last few years, and the anxiety I feel about the future, and ask myself if this is still worth it. The answer has been yes — so far. On the days I feel anxious, I try to refocus on the things in my control. I also have a decent financial cushion by now, which is another benefit of working in tech in the US for eight years. here.

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