We do not live in a world that celebrates kindness. When we're praising our friends and lovers to others, we might use accolades like "sexy" or "funny" or "really good at pétanque", but kindness rarely gets a look in. We hardly ever see it on TV – whether what we watch reflects our aspirations or actualities, anyone who sat through the last series of The X Factor or The Apprentice could be forgiven for thinking that we all live to belittle and demean people in the hope that it will help us pursue our own advancement. Kindness is weakness; it isn't fashionable.

But after reading author George Saunders' commencement address to the Syracuse University graduating class, I'm hoping this is about to change. In the speech, which was made several months ago, but reposted thousands of times from the New York Times website over the weekend, Saunders recalls his greatest regret: not being kinder to a former classmate, who was bullied, saying "what I regret most in my life are failures of kindness". The huge response to Saunders' speech suggests his regret might be shared by many, and that the call for more kindness has struck a global chord.

Catherine Newman recently wrote in the New York Times that she does not want her 10-year-old daughter to be "nice", even though she's "deeply kind, profoundly compassionate and probably the most ethical person I know". Newman's piece suggests too many people confuse kindness with niceness. We are nice because we want people to like us; it has an agenda, formed from our own weaknesses and vanities. Being nice is much easier than being kind, and often has a more immediate pay-off. Being kind might not benefit you immediately, or in ways that you can measure, but it's infinitely more important.

Kindness requires bravery. It's about doing what we truly believe to be good, even if it leaves us open to mockery or unpopularity. We have no right to expect it of others if we can't commit to it ourselves. This doesn't need to involve grand gestures or expensive plans, but looking for the small opportunities to be kind, and practising it whenever you can.

Tampa Bay footballer Tom Crabtree recently illustrated how much we crave kindness, absent as it often is from our lives. He tweeted to his 90,000 followers "how cool would it be to live in a world where George Zimmerman offered Trayvon Martin a ride home to get him out of the rain that night". Many of us complain about lives lacking in traditional values, and long for a return to demonstrable community spirit, but few of us would feel safe offering any stranger a lift on a rainy night. We're so focused on seeking out threat that paranoia dominates. Kindness doesn't have the space it needs to flourish.

Twitter has recently come under fire for the unkindness of its users. What isn't being discussed is the positive nature of the platform. Every day, I see unsung acts of kindness in my feed. People offer to help strangers find jobs and places to stay. You see friendships formed over pictures of puppies. For every troll, there are hundreds of users who are there to share the things that make them laugh and bring them joy. My experience of Twitter makes me think there isn't a shortage of kindness in the world – it just isn't being prioritised, or celebrated.

We're often too quick to be suspicious of the kindness of others. When someone embarks upon a course of action to support a cause they care about, they are met with hostility. We assume that any celebrity supporting a charity is doing so as a PR exercise. Are we too proud of our cynicism to celebrate effect before intention?

We might think Saunders' stipulations sound obvious, but ultimately happiness depends on our kindness and the kindness of others. If we all made an effort to respond with kindness before we responded with criticism, we'd soon have less cause to criticise at all. The people who are most likely to meet acts of kindness with derision tend to be those who are concerned with being in the right. But you can never be right if you can't be compassionate, or considerate, or tender-hearted. As Kurt Vonnegut wrote: "There's only one rule that I know of, babies – 'God damn it, you've got to be kind'."