Why I’m building ReShiki

It’s been a week and a half since I released the first version of ReShiki, my chemical structure editor.

The response has been much bigger than I expected. People from academia, industry, and outside institutional settings have shared it on X. Seeing that response, I’ve felt how many people have been looking for an alternative to ChemDraw.

For me, this is about something very personal: being able to express your ideas in chemistry.

My chemistry journey started in 2009, when I entered university. The university provided students with access to ChemDraw through a site license, and I still remember how fascinating it was to use it for the first time.

Before that, I had been drawing structures by hand. Suddenly, I could make figures that looked like the ones in published papers. The bonds, fonts, angles, and spacing—all those small details were taken care of.

Three years later, I joined a lab and started drawing more complex organometallic compounds, including substituted cyclopentadienyl ligands. Those structures taught me how much flexibility matters. Sometimes you need to tilt a ring, adjust a bond, or carefully arrange a structure to communicate what you mean.

I read papers illustrated with ChemDraw. I used it to prepare my own papers. It became part of how I thought about and communicated chemistry.

I’m still grateful that my university gave me access to it.

ChemDraw is excellent software. The care accumulated over decades is visible in details that you might never notice until you try to draw without it.

And that is exactly why access matters.

Chemical structures are part of the language of chemistry. Their presentation affects how readers understand—and judge—our work.

An awkwardly stretched ring, inconsistent bonds, or poorly placed labels can distract from an otherwise good scientific argument. Before someone has read the experimental details, they may already have formed an opinion about how carefully the work was done.

I know this because I’ve caught myself doing it.

I’ve looked at structures in papers or patents and immediately thought, “This doesn’t look like it was drawn by a chemist.”

But what does that impression actually tell me? Does it tell me anything reliable about the science? Or am I reacting to the software, its defaults, or the tools the author had access to?

I don’t like admitting that bias. I like even less that access to drawing software can help determine whether someone’s work looks credible.

A good structure editor removes much of that burden. For many everyday structures, applying a journal-appropriate style gets you most of the way there. You can focus on the experiment, the interpretation, and the discussion.

You shouldn’t need to become a professional illustrator to communicate chemistry.

But what happens when you lose access?

I’ve lost access to ChemDraw and other good structure editors several times. What frustrated me most was losing the ability to represent my thoughts the way I wanted.

The ideas were still there. My understanding of chemistry hadn’t changed. My ability to put those ideas on the page had.

Alternatives such as ChemSketch have played an important role in making chemical drawing more accessible. But the broader problem remains: access can depend on where you study, where you work, and what you can afford.

If you have the budget for professional software, paying for it makes sense. Good software takes enormous effort to build and maintain.

But a price that feels modest to one researcher can be a serious barrier to another.

A student is still learning and may have very little income. Someone between jobs may need to prepare a research presentation for an interview precisely when they no longer have an institutional license. A researcher in another country may face the same software price on a very different salary or research budget.

These people are part of our community. They should be able to write papers, prepare presentations, learn chemistry, and share their ideas professionally.

That is why I’m building ReShiki.

I want it to help people whose access to tools doesn’t match their ability or ambition. And I want to make it good enough that the whole chemistry community benefits.

As a reader, I want clear structures that let me concentrate on the science. As an author, I want my ideas to be understood without avoidable distractions. And I want students to have tools that help them learn the language of chemistry and eventually contribute discoveries of their own.

If you work in industry, please use ReShiki. Tell me what works and what needs improvement. If you find it valuable, consider contributing or sponsoring its development so I can keep working on it.

If you’ve used ChemDraw for years, please try ReShiki, even briefly. Tell me which features you miss, which details feel wrong, and what would make it useful in your daily work. That experience is valuable.

And if you’re a student, I hope ReShiki helps you learn, explore, and express your ideas. Someday, I hope you’ll make a discovery and give something back to the community in your own way.

I benefited from having the right tools when I was starting out. I want to help give others that same opportunity.

Noblesse oblige. May the future of chemistry be bright.