Interviewed by Kathryn Soter | GFDA Executive Director
We spoke with Saloni Mehta, an internationally trained architect, interior designer, and urbanist whose diverse experience spans residential, workspace, and retail design, as well as urban green planning and project management. With an advanced degree in Sustainable Systems Management, Saloni is deeply committed to crafting high-performance design strategies that prioritize both sustainability and user well-being.
As an architect trained in India, now working across architecture, interiors, and sustainability consulting in the U.S. How has this cross-border experience shaped your understanding of sustainable design?
SM: It’s been deeply eye-opening. Practicing in both India and the U.S. has shown me that sustainability is not a fixed concept—it evolves dramatically with culture, climate, and context. In India, sustainability is woven into traditional practices—reuse, passive design, and resourceful minimalism are instinctive. In the U.S., there’s a strong framework of certifications and performance standards. Both approaches have their strengths and blind spots, and my goal has been to integrate the best of both—honoring cultural wisdom while embracing measurable environmental impact.
What kinds of sustainable practices from Indian traditional architecture do you believe are still undervalued in the West?
SM: So many! Elements like jali screens, central courtyards, lime plasters, and mud construction are brilliant examples of low-tech, climate-responsive design. They naturally regulate temperature, encourage airflow, and reduce the need for mechanical systems. What’s often overlooked is that these practices aren’t just culturally significant—they’re also quantifiably efficient. For instance, life-cycle assessments show that adaptive reuse and natural materials can often outperform even LEED-certified buildings in terms of carbon payback. There’s a lot of untapped potential in learning from these systems.
You’ve worked on LEED and WELL-certified projects in the U.S. What do you think those systems do well—and where do they fall short?
SM: Certifications offer a valuable structure and encourage awareness, which is essential. But there’s a performance gap—buildings can meet all the criteria on paper yet fall short in actual energy savings or occupant wellbeing. These systems also don’t always translate well across diverse economic or cultural contexts. I’ve seen clients struggle to apply rating systems that don’t reflect their lived realities. What truly drives sustainable outcomes is intent—thoughtful design, stakeholder engagement, and behavioral change. Certification should support that, not replace it.
That’s a great point. Do you think there’s a risk of performative sustainability in the U.S.?
SM: Yes, especially when certification becomes a checkbox exercise. There’s a tendency to equate “green” materials or smart systems with sustainability, without considering the broader impact—like embodied carbon, maintenance needs, or social equity. In contrast, in India we often achieve sustainable results not because of a label, but out of necessity—through reuse, adaptability, and community-driven design. I’d love to see more value-based frameworks in the West that account for both environmental metrics and cultural intelligence.
Speaking of equity—how do you define social sustainability, and how does it show up in your work?
SM: To me, social sustainability is about dignity, inclusion, and long-term resilience. It’s ensuring people have access to safe, healthy, and affordable spaces where they feel a sense of belonging. In India, even informal housing often nurtures strong social cohesion—shared courtyards, multifunctional spaces, intergenerational living. In the U.S., I’ve worked on affordable housing projects that are “green” on paper but disconnected from community needs. If a building isolates its users or is financially inaccessible, it’s not sustainable—no matter how efficient its HVAC system is.
So, would you say sustainability is ultimately about more than materials and energy?
SM: Absolutely. Sustainability is a mindset—a way of designing that acknowledges the interconnectedness of environment, culture, and people. It’s about reuse as much as it is about respect. When we design with both data and empathy—when we listen to the rhythms of a place and the needs of its people—that’s when we get truly sustainable architecture. My mission is to keep bridging that gap, across borders, disciplines, and worldviews.
Now for some fun. We like to get to know our subject’s design sensibility a little better. Indulge me for a few more questions!
1. My hope for the future of design:
That design becomes more about empathy than ego—centered on listening, cultural intelligence, and long-term stewardship. At the Good Future Design Alliance (GFDA), we often speak of design as a tool for both planetary and human healing, not just a vehicle for visual expression. My hope is that we move beyond aesthetics and certifications toward regenerative systems that genuinely nourish people and the planet—where circularity, accessibility, and equity are treated as foundational, not aspirational. Most of all, I hope we educate future designers to embody these values early—not only through professional hardship or environmental crises, but through a design education rooted in responsibility, systems thinking, and care.
2. A place or experience that made me care the most about the environment:
Growing up in Mumbai, where dense urban life meets fragile coastlines, I witnessed the constant tension between rapid development and ecological vulnerability. But the true turning point came during my involvement in a coastal revitalization project following a devastating monsoon flood, and again in New York for the Urban Heat island reversal. Collaborating with community members, ecologists, and urban planners revealed how profoundly design choices influence resilience and equity. That experience solidified my belief that design must always serve both people and the planet—especially in high-risk, underserved environments. I believe design is not just a profession but a reflection of how we think, feel, and respond to the world—and it should evolve with empathy, and hope at its core.
3. How would you sum up your design philosophy?
Rooted in place, responsive to people. I believe good design listens before it speaks. It should feel inevitable—like it grew from the ground up, rather than being imposed. I also believe that luxury and sustainability are not mutually exclusive—in fact, true luxury lies in craftsmanship, longevity, and a meaningful connection to context. When we slow down and prioritize quality over convenience, we create space to uplift local materials, celebrate artisan skill, and foster cultural identity. It’s the pace of fast design—driven by trends and disposability—that erodes sustainability. Thoughtful, place-based design not only endures longer but also resonates more deeply.
4. What’s one design trend that should go?
Fast furniture and trend-chasing minimalism that lacks soul or context.
5. One material that’s underrated in design:
Lime plaster. It’s antimicrobial, breathable, and beautiful with age. A forgotten gem in modern construction, especially as we rethink healthy indoor environments.
6. A vintage piece/item I own and love:
A brass diya (oil lamp, pictured below) from my grandmother. It’s passed through generations, and to me, it symbolizes continuity, warmth, and design that transcends time.
Thank you Saloni!
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