Steve Jones is the kind of person whose kindness isn’t something he switches on when it’s convenient, it’s something he lives and breathes. While many of us wake up thinking about our to-do lists, Steve wakes up thinking about how he can give. How he can lift someone’s spirits, hold a space for someone in despair, or remind someone they are not alone. His heart seems permanently tuned to the needs of those around him.
It was this natural instinct to care, paired with a story of profound personal suffering, that sparked the beginning of what Steve now calls “Steve 2.0”. Steve came back from the brink of death. After a suicide attempt, then enduring major surgery to remove his stomach and esophagus, he lay in a coma for days, being told his sons should say goodbye. But Steve didn’t stay down. He chose to live. He chose to convert his pain into purpose. He relearned how to write, how to live, how to meaningfully connect.
Then he found his mission. Drawing from his lived experience of despair and survival, Steve decided to bring hope, kindness and connection to others battling mental-health struggles. He began running – every day. He’s taken on massive challenges in effort to raise funds, spark conversation, train crisis-line volunteers, support people in the shadows. He calls this version of himself “Steve 2.0”, a man on a mission to spread kindness, vulnerability and presence.
Steve’s story is not about perfection. It’s about being raw, honest, visible. He speaks openly about how he thought no-one else needed to hear his burdens even while he was drowning. He describes the moment in his emergency surgery when he had a vision of his father saying: “We don’t want you. You’ve got work to do. You’re not ready.” That message changed everything.
Now Steve uses his voice, his body, his mindset for good. He shares a book, a clothing brand designed to spark conversations, publically commits to running and mental-health advocacy. His daily disciplines are anchored in gratitude (“I make my bed and take that as a win”), education, conversation and observation.
And the impact? It’s rippling outward. Steve shows up. He trains volunteers who answer the calls of people in despair. He invites us all to see that failure is just feedback, and that each act of kindness… no matter how small… can plant seeds of hope in someone’s life.
People like Steve remind us that true generosity still exists in Australia. They remind us that kindness is thriving, often in the quiet corners of our community where no-one is watching. They remind us that sometimes the smallest gestures can shine the brightest.
If you know someone like Steve, someone whose everyday actions make the world softer, warmer and more hopeful, you can nominate them for recognition, or simply support their work. Because the quiet heroes among us give not for applause but simply because it’s who they are.