Well that all happened rather swiftly, didn’t it? Unscheduled landing, emergency exit flung open, slide inflated and Whooshka!

Down he goes, out into the deep blue sea, no life jacket or rescue whistle, just a suitcase full of crisp, green 100 dollar bills – a golden handshake that King Carl Lewis couldn’t jump over in his prime.

When that Qantas board eventually moves, it moves quickly, doesn’t it? Couldn’t wait another month, another week, even another day. We’ve got a crisis on our hands, press the eject button, get him out, get the new CEO in the chair … anything to create a fresh conversation.

And to think it all came just two weeks after our national carrier announced a bumper annual profit of $1.7 billion. Goes to show, it’s not just “the what” that matters, it’s also ”the how”. The cutting of this, the culling of that, cost of flights soaring, customer service standards plummeting, executive bonuses ballooning.

On account of accumulated public “crimes”, Alan Joyce in recent years has become “the most hated corporate figure in the country” – and no amount of brand reinvigoration or PR spin or carefully, craftily created image renewal is ever going to remove the stain.

See ya, wouldn’t want to be ya.

A couple of hours north, assuming the flight’s on time or hasn’t been cancelled, there’s another mutiny brewing – different sector, different stage, but with circumstances that in some ways are eerily similar to Alan Joyce.

Queensland premier Annastasia Palaszczuk is also under heavy siege, with Labor party powerbrokers increasingly convinced that her passport, just like Alan Joyce’s, has been stamped by the public, angrily and irretrievably.

If so, in Palaszczuk’s case, there’d be the delicious irony of that stamp in said passport sitting adjacent to the entry of Italian immigration officials when the premier touched down in Rome for her curiously undisclosed Amalfi Coast holiday a week or so ago.

There’s still a lot to play out yet of course – the fat lady hasn’t even picked up the microphone. Government bureaucracies work at very different speeds to boards of multi billion dollar corporations. And in politics, there’s typically a lot more moving parts, clandestine practices.

When you hear the words, “the leader has our total commitment and unwavering support”, you can almost guarantee the locks on the door of the “big office” are already being changed. Like the coach of a footy team languishing in 1bth spot on the ladder with two rounds to go.

So where and when did it start to go wrong for the heavily pilloried pair? Pretty simple – too much imbibing of their own Kool-Aid. When the leader of any organisation, be it our national carrier or a suburban scout den, starts to believe they are bigger and more important than the entity they represent, they’re destined to hit heavy turbulence.

Alan Joyce accepting bumper bonuses, rumoured to be in the vicinity of $18 million across three years, at a time when Qantas was performing appallingly in so many of its “mission criticals” was, in the eyes of the Australian public, purely offensive.

Throw in telling us how to vote in the referendum, the “timely” sell down of his Qantas share portfolio and his uncomfortably cosy relationship with Albo, and the unpalatable quickly became the indigestible.

Palaszczuk’s conduct over the past 12 months has suggested that she, too, is increasingly out of touch, not just with the electorate but with all her wide and varied stakeholders.

Through punters’ eyes, there’s been far too many red carpet events, far too many froth and bubble social media posts and happy snaps, spewed out by her crack digital media battalion, just one division of the 90-strong media army that keeps Queenslanders “informed” of her movements around the clock.

“Hey look, here’s a photo of the premier with a Matildas player. Hey look, here’s a photo of the premier with two more Matildas players”. When there’s a hot ticket in town, grab a handful. On the positive side, smiling soccer players made a welcome change from all the usual hard hat and safety vest images.

Ducking off to Italy without telling key colleagues was for many the final straw. The decision smacked heavily of either guilt or avoidance, probably both.

To acknowledge the view of the conspiracy theorists, maybe she did circulate her plans and is just being “hung out to dry?” An example of that clandestine behaviour referenced earlier? Either way, “Houston, we have a problem”.

Nobody of sane mind would dare deny our civic leaders the right to a holiday, but timing and optics are everything. The Amalfi Coast, at a time when criminal youth had more control over the state than the government? Pul-leeeease – read the room, the tea leaves, the newspapers – wherever you get your intel.

In the fall from grace of both Joyce and Palaszczuk, it’s logical to question the role of their respective “minders”, the heavily scripted horde who typically in organisations, follow the leader around, making sure they are well briefed, stay on script and mind their “Ps and Qs”.

Two possible scenarios – their message and advice was poor (or non-existent) – or far more likely, their advice was sound and insightful but simply ignored.

“Premier – the Amalfi Coast, right now? I seriously question the…”

“I can holiday where and when I like.”

That poses another question – why have them in situ in the first place?

If large corporations and governments wanted to save themselves a fist full of dollars – they could simply duck down to the nearest pub and run a quick poll in the front bar.

“Hey guys, got a question for you – does this pass the pub test? Nup? OK – thanks. My Shout.”

We’re pretty good at that in Australia – calling bullshit when we see it.

And working out who’s been drinking too much of their own Kool-Aid.