When I watched Jack Simpson compete in Milan, nothing about his routine felt stiff or scripted. He was composed, but his voice carried honesty and belief. Every line felt lived. He spoke in a way that made people lean in, not because he was delivering a performance, but because he clearly meant every word.

Seven years of work had led to that moment. Most of it happened far from cameras and crowds, in quiet training rooms after long shifts at Axil Coffee Roasters in Melbourne. It is a city that treats coffee like a sport, so competition is fierce.

Jack finished third at the World Barista Championship once, then second, and then finally won in Milan. He brought home Australia’s fourth world title. His routine was powerful because it felt real. He built it around coffee from Finca Zarza and Finca Deborah, and he used his time on stage to talk about the people behind those coffees. Farmers. Risk. Responsibility. The message stayed with the judges and with the room.

After the win, he looked relieved and grateful. You could sense how heavy the journey had been. Even with the trophy beside his name, he sounded like someone who still wants to keep learning.

You will hear that in the answers below.

You said you’ve been preparing for this moment for seven years. What did that preparation look like over that time?

Training over this time looked different as time went on. The last three years I spent a ridiculous amount of hours in the training room. Once I had my ideas and concept of what I wanted to present, I would be practicing speech and workflow for hours on end. 4 hrs most nights after work and all hours over the weekend. I pushed myself to have my routine as polished as possible.

The early years were definitely a little more relaxed. Less complex in workflow and the word count was much lower. It was more about getting out there and giving it a go.

But this transitioned into me dedicating most of my time towards it.

The outgoing champion hands the trophy to the new champion

Most people see your routine, not the struggle behind it. What kind of pressure did you put on yourself, and what did it cost you?

Oh a huge amount of pressure. Mentally it was a bit of a strain at times, but for my personal development I love putting myself in these situations. It has taught me so much about myself and seeing what is possible.

After I finish competition, normally it takes at least a month to get back to a normal state of mind.

But in the same breath, it has given me so much. New friends, connections, joy with friends and family and travel around the world. While it can be tough, it has only given to me, not taken.

Your routine presentation highlighted producers. Why was that narrative important enough to you to make it part of your competition routine?

This year I was not going to compete. I did not have a concept that I felt strong enough about. I had a visit to see Johnathon from Finca Zarza and Jamison Savage from Finca Deborah.

It was on this trip that I had a light bulb moment. I love both these producers, they both pour their time and dedication into what they do. There were a couple of things that struck me on this trip, notably the risks Johnathon took to produce world class coffee and the environmental impacts Jamison was dealing with.

So this year I only wanted to use their coffee and share these stories with everyone that would watch. Sharing the message that we are responsible for sharing the value, the message we send and representing these amazing producers.

When you finally heard your name announced, what memory came to mind first? What made the tears fall?

That is a hard one. There was a lot of emotion right then. I was over the moon, but a big sense of relief. The fact my family, the producers and their families were there to all share the joy was the real highlight.

You have spent years learning how to create balance in flavor. How did you find balance in your own life while chasing a world title? Did you find that balance?

Sadly there was not much balance. As much as I try it is difficult. I got much better this year, making sure I was eating well and exercising. But there is lots I give up. Time with friends and family is almost nonexistent, anything social was out of the picture and spending time on basically anything other than competing was out. I never wanted to regret not training enough.

Seven years of preparation led to this

You were mentored by Axil Coffee founder Dave Makin, a two-time Australian Barista Champion, and Axil’s director of coffee Matthew Crowley. What lessons from them shaped you most, technically, and as a person trying to find his place in coffee?

Too many to mention here. But to pick a few, Dave definitely showed me the work ethic required to get to this level. Not taking shortcuts and doing everything possible to achieve our best. He continues to push me to this level. Other lessons he has taught me are to be in the moment. With barista competition there are a million things going on when you are practicing or on stage. You have thousands of small tasks but each one needs as much focus as the rest, so really concentrating on each one.

Matt always has a judge’s perspective, so really focusing on “does it make sense” and “how will it be perceived” so really reminding me of the importance of each and every decision I make.

You have competed three years in a row. What changed inside you between finishing third, finishing second, and finally winning?

Confidence definitely grows, learning every day from the mistakes that were made and becoming more comfortable with the decisions you make. But at the end of the day, I am still the same. The work ethic remains but perhaps with a little more stoicism.

Winning changes how the world sees you. Has it changed how you see yourself, or the kind of barista you want to be from here?

I am definitely proud of the effort I put in to achieve this, but I do not see myself any differently. Fundamentally I am the same person. Win, lose or draw. It does not make me who I am.

I focused on the responsibility of the barista. So I want to live this and do my best to set that example. We are the final piece of the puzzle when it comes to serving coffee, so if I can inspire other baristas to keep sharing the amazing value of the producers’ work in cafes and on stage I would be stoked.

Click here for final rankings

Interviewing Jack did not feel like speaking to someone who had just reached the top of his field. There was no ego. No sense of performance. He talked openly about pressure, sacrifice, and the cost of chasing excellence.

But he also talked about joy. Producers who feel like family. Mentors who shaped his routine and his character. When he remembered hearing his name called in Milan, surrounded by farmers and family, his voice softened. It sounded like a person letting go of a breath he had been holding for a long time.

Somewhere, another barista has already started the same climb. It may take them seven years too. Jack seems to understand that. The trophy is only part of the story. What matters now is how he uses his voice. He wants to inspire young baristas. Shine a light on producers. Protect the value of their work.

That might be the part of his win that stays with people long after Milan. Not the title. The message he chose to carry.

Images by Axil & WBC


Discover more from FLTR Magazine

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.