Flame retardant chemistry hardly stands still, especially when it comes to keeping flexible plastics like thermoplastic polyurethane (TPU) out of harm’s way. Back in the day, most approaches to flame resistance meant loading plastics with generous amounts of halogenated additives. As research kept pouring in about toxicity and persistent pollutants, industry folks got busy searching for less hazardous ways to slow a fire. Masterbatch technology entered the scene as a practical solution, mixing concentrated flame-blocking compounds into TPU during the compounding process. The early nineties yielded smarter, more efficient flame retardant blends — a step away from messy powder-additive art toward cleaner, user-friendly pellet forms. By the turn of the millennium, the menu of masterbatch solutions had grown to cover modes of action from anti-drip agents to smoke suppressants, answering a call from manufacturers juggling stricter safety codes and customer expectations for clean-label products.
A flame retardant masterbatch for TPU sits in the form of small, colorless or colored pellets. Producers blend this masterbatch into TPU resin at a defined ratio during the extrusion or molding step. The aim is simple: help the final product pass safety standards like UL94 or EN13501. Different recipes balance halogenated and halogen-free chemistries, depending on whether the project calls for top fire performance, low smoke, flexibility, or environmental transparency. The function of the product turns on careful design — encapsulating active ingredients in a carrier resin well-matched for TPU. This keeps the process lean, cuts dust, and lets processors dose retardants with precision. My own experience as an engineer taught me that poor mixing or using the wrong masterbatch often kills mechanical properties, which is why trusted blend recipes and strict QC are non-negotiable here.
Masterbatches match the host polymer in their basic look, but the loaded fire suppressants inside bring their own weight, smell, and sometimes even a tacky feel. Brominated, phosphorus, and mineral-based mixes each change the density of the pellets. Speak to anyone managing a compounding line, and they’ll tell you about the tricks of static charge or the challenges of dispersing heavier components evenly. The melt flow of a masterbatch must closely mimic TPU resin to avoid dead spots and keep surface finish predictable. Chemically, these concentrates need to hang tight under high heat, resisting hydrolysis and breakdown during melt processing. Most carry anti-drip agents, synergists, or smoke suppressants. These chemicals work together in the just-right sequence, bridging the trade-off between crystallinity, transparency, and flammability. I’ve seen first-hand how flame retardant masterbatches sometimes affect color or clarity, especially in translucent TPU, so color-matching is no casual affair on the compounding line.
For a buyer, the datasheet isn’t just a technical checkbox. Masterbatch grade, dosage, and compatibility with TPU resin types all show up on the label. Vendors detail loading recommendation (maybe 10% for standard fire codes or up to 30% for tougher specs), pellet shape, specific gravity, and safe storage limits. Each pack, whether bagged or boxed, typically lists shelf life, recommended drying conditions, and transport cautions. Key safety ratings like RoHS, REACH, and VOC compliance have crept onto the label in the last decade, nudging companies to trace every ingredient. Technical staff I’ve worked with always check for the limiting oxygen index (LOI) value, smoke density, and mechanical impact at the recommended dose — these numbers predict whether a part will actually pass third-party fire certification.
Most masterbatch plants run a twin-screw extruder as the workhorse. This machine melts down the carrier resin with flame retardant additives — such as ammonium polyphosphate or melamine derivatives — using tight temperature controls to avoid burning or premature decomposition. After extrusion, the mix cools and gets chopped into pellets. Workers monitor for uniform pellet size and visually inspect for “fish-eye” lumps, which signal poor dispersion. Some plants throw in a specialty step, using an underwater pelletizer for cleaner cuts or a vacuum vent for better degassing. There’s real hustle in keeping batch records straight; any switch in additive loading or carrier type ripples downstream, affecting part strength or color. I’ve watched plant operators struggle with dusty loads — modern automated feeders drastically cut this problem, shaving losses and keeping air clean around the line.
To keep up with shifting fire codes and green chemistry trends, chemical modifications to masterbatch recipes never really let up. Companies fine-tune the structure of phosphorus esters, swap out suspect brominated compounds for safer alternatives, and bolt on synergists like antimony trioxide or zinc borate. These tweaks change the temperature at which flame retardants activate, the way smoke forms, or how the material reacts under a torch. Microencapsulation has taken off, locking the active ingredient in a thin shell and boosting processability. I remember seeing side-by-side tests: a microencapsulated formula can flame-proof TPU with half the dose of an old-school mix, cutting cost and preserving flexibility. Sometimes, a blend with nitrogen-rich agents takes the spotlight — these act in both the gas and condensed phase, slowing burn and shrinking toxic gas output. This field moves forward through a steady dance of lab work, pilot trials, and daily talks between chemists and manufacturers.
Anyone trying to source flame retardant masterbatch for TPU will quickly run into a thicket of brand names and synonyms. Catalogs list them as “TPU FR MB,” “Fire Shield MB,” or even product-specific codes like MB7010-P. Chemical shorthand, such as “APP-based masterbatch” or “halogen-free concentrate,” adds to the confusion, especially for smaller shops without a deep technical bench. I’ve had to double-check as a customer that a supplier’s “halogen-free” truly covers bromine and chlorine or just bromine. With the expansion of Asian, European, and North American suppliers, product codes and certifications sometimes conflict with local industry lingo, so sharp attention to datasheets saves money and headache.
Safety in masterbatch factories and at the processing line runs on clear SOPs and good PPE. Pelletized blends cut down on airborne dust, but hot-field hands still face risk from fumes if the plant’s exhaust systems fall behind or additives decompose. Quality vendors train operators to avoid direct skin contact and provide Material Safety Data Sheets to cover all the angles: flash point, decomposition, and spill cleanup. Most carriers pass as inert, but flame retardant additives sometimes present chronic inhalation risks, especially older powder grades with antimony or halogenated aromatics. Real improvement comes with regular on-site air monitoring for VOCs and a strict “no mixing unknown sources” rule, since cross-reactions surprise even savvy process chemists. In day-to-day production, keeping clean hoppers and good ventilation proves itself; years in plastics left no doubt — contamination stings both safety and final part quality.
From cable jacketing to sports soles, the reach of flame retardant masterbatch for TPU stands tall. Appliance makers, phone case manufacturers, and automotive firms rely on these compounds to keep plastic parts from feeding a spark. Footwear blends need the soft touch of TPU, but with enough fire resistance to pass international shipping and school safety checks. Wire and cable sheaths present another big market, since fire requires those parts not to drip, smoke, or lose mechanical strength at elevated temperatures. Medical device makers look for clear and non-toxic options, while electronics brands ask for tight halogen-free specs with exact smoke indices. Over the years, projects I’ve worked on saw cost-driven users gravitate toward masterbatch over pre-compounded fire safe resins — a nod to flexible sourcing and leaner inventory. The field expands whenever a new regulation or transit policy sets stricter fire resistance targets.
Academic and industry labs swarm with studies on fire-safe plastic blends. Scientists test additive chemistries for lasting performance, aging effects, and ways to minimize smoke or toxic fume output. New projects investigate nano-scale synergists, like carbon nanotubes or clays, blended into masterbatch to cut additive load without losing flame resistance. Universities run comparative burn tests to map trade-offs in flexibility, plasticizer compatibility, and color stability. Green chemistry studies now crowd the journals, measuring the migration of unwanted additives from finished parts over years of real-world use. From lab bench experience, collaboration with masterbatch suppliers always beats going solo — formulas built in isolation rarely survive processing, especially for demanding parts like flexible films or wearables.
Health risks from flame retardants spark regular headlines. Legacy chemicals like PBDEs or chlorinated paraffins linger in the environment and turn up in wildlife, prompting bans. Current generation products strike a balance by swapping out the worst offenders for phosphorus or nitrogen-based agents, but the industry hasn’t solved every problem. Chronic low-level exposure and end-of-life disposal hang over the industry, with recycling streams sometimes complicating matters by mixing fire-safe and standard TPU waste. Worker exposure during hot processing or spills gets managed by safety protocols, but communities continue pushing for formulations with track records for minimal migration and low-combustion toxicity. In parts of Europe, compliance with REACH and strict local environmental laws now shapes the slate of available masterbatches, with many brands investing in long-term toxicity studies to maintain market access. It’s not a topic that ever feels settled, given the public wake-up calls from recurring chemical safety reviews.
Tomorrow’s flame retardant solutions draw fuel from two demands: regulatory pressure and end-user expectations for both safety and environmental performance. I expect to see more grades engineered for low-smoke, zero-halogen standards, along with smart masterbatches tuned for new types of TPU, such as bio-based or medical grades. Producers already develop blends that let processors dial up toughness or clarity without losing fire performance. Nano-modified and microencapsulated formulas seem set for rapid growth, cutting required dose and streamlining manufacturing. Digital tracking for chemical traceability grows more common, answering calls from global buyers looking for transparent, ethical sourcing. Open research collaborations between suppliers, processors, and independent labs will likely unlock even smarter flame retardant systems, with data-backed claims matching real-world user needs. The goal: strong fire resistance, cleaner air, and plastics that stand up to whatever the market or regulators dream up next.
Most folks never really think about what goes into the plastic that covers the wires behind their TV or the smooth grip on a power tool. We might take for granted that these things don’t burst into flames at the first spark. Still, without the right kind of protection, they could. That’s where flame retardant masterbatch steps in, especially for materials like thermoplastic polyurethane, or TPU.
TPU is everywhere—phone cases, sports gear, wire coatings, footprints of sneakers, medical equipment. This material bends, stretches, and bounces back, which makes it popular across industries. The downside? Plastics catch fire easily. In places where heat and electricity run close—inside cars, electronics, or home appliances—the risk climbs. People want peace of mind that a charging cable won’t turn into a torch.
A masterbatch is a mixture, loaded with flame-retardant chemicals, and blended with TPU pellets before the manufacturing process. I remember working in a small cable factory and seeing how the workers tossed handfuls of these pellets into the hopper with regular polymer. It’s not glamorous work, but it makes a huge difference. The resulting material gets a shield: it resists fire or slows it down if it starts.
Take electrical cables, for example. Without flame-retardant help, a short circuit behind the wall could quickly set nearby insulation on fire and spread down the line. With the right additives in the mix, the cable might char instead of burning through, buying precious time and keeping damage contained. The same goes for headphones, scooter charging ports, or fridge seals. Every product that plugs in or holds a current can benefit.
It’s not just about looking for problems where there aren’t any. Fire-related accidents still count among the leading causes of property damage across the world. Regulators pay close attention—most regions set specific flame resistance levels for plastics used in electronics or auto parts. I’ve seen prototypes sit on a shelf, unable to reach markets, just because they couldn’t pass a flame test.
There’s always a catch. Some flame retardants contain chemicals that raise health or environmental concerns. For years, brominated compounds offered top-notch performance, but evidence linked them to pollution and health risks. I’ve watched producers scramble to replace old recipes with safer alternatives—often without raising costs too much or messing with the feel and toughness people expect from TPU.
Today, there’s more demand for halogen-free ingredients. Research keeps moving forward, searching for blends that do the job without side effects. Sometimes it’s metal oxides, sometimes it’s special phosphates—each comes with its own price tag and processing quirks.
Flame retardant masterbatch for TPU isn’t just a technical fix. It’s part of a larger effort to make everyday products safer without giving up performance. No one wants flammable cables, but no one wants to trade safety for pollution or poor quality, either. Better transparency, stricter standards, and constant innovation can help get it right. When factories and buyers talk more openly about what goes into their plastics, everyone gets a safer deal.
Adding masterbatch to thermoplastic polyurethane (TPU) isn’t new. Still, picking the right loading level makes all the difference between a product that pops and one that fails under real-world use. For most color and additive masterbatches, people start with loading levels around 2% to 5%. That range holds steady whether you’re trying to enrich a foam roller for the gym or boost clarity in an electrical cable jacketing.
Higher percentages look tempting, especially if you want stronger colors or boosted flame-retardant traits. Trouble is, how TPU handles the load matters more than just pouring in extra pigment. Once you go beyond 6%, TPU sometimes gives up a bit of its signature toughness or flexibility. I once worked on a cable project where a push to 7% made the outer sheath crack in freezing tests. We had to back off. Adding more masterbatch for a better look made the cable stiff and much harder to process.
The key comes down to mixing. At 2 to 5%, color stretches far enough to cover and performance additives can still work. Factories need a loading level where the masterbatch melts and spreads without problems. Most extrusion and injection machines are dialed in for this bracket, so you run stable, cost-effective batches. That’s the sweet spot: color is deep, properties hold up, and material cost doesn't balloon.
Some spots do call for a lighter hand. At 1% or so, a masterbatch for antistatic features or a transparent color tint might be enough. I’ve seen medical device shells where the designer wanted the faintest hue so you could still see the tubing inside. On the other hand, UV stabilizer masterbatches can edge past 5% in outdoor-use goods, but that’s mostly when TPU faces relentless sun and weather—or when regulations hand down strict deadlines. Even then, going above 8% introduces new risk. Melt flow shifts, surface finish takes a hit, or the masterbatch clumps.
It’s worth pointing out, not all masterbatches play nicely with TPU. If the carrier resin inside the masterbatch doesn’t match, you’ll see streaks, or the blend turns weak. I've had a batch where the carrier resin was polyethylene and it wrecked the TPU bond, causing delamination after only a few months at the customer’s site. That problem alone proves how important it is to look past just percentage and focus on how the masterbatch and TPU work together.
Most factories do small trial runs. They adjust the loading level based on color strength, physical traits, and how smoothly the compound flows. Real floor tests catch things spreadsheets can’t. And if problems show up, like splay or haze, operators trim the percentage or switch formulation to fix it. Real experience counts more than theory here.
Every finished product hopes to blend sharp looks, toughness, and affordability. Settling for that 2–5% range helps strike a balance. Go too low, and the results look washed out. Go too high, and either the TPU’s traits take a hit or the cost climbs without reason. Process engineers work with suppliers to run trials, pin down the right level, and pull out samples that actually work in the field. Skipping that step just to save time or money usually ends up costing both.
Not every flame retardant masterbatch skips halogens. Many older versions relied on brominated and chlorinated compounds because they stifle fire better than anything else we’ve learned to make so far. Plenty of commercial pellets, especially cheaper ones, still lean on halogen chemistry. Honestly, before you start tossing around the term “halogen-free,” it pays to ask for the exact formulation.
I’ve walked through factories that run extrusion lines all day. Back in college, the air from some of those lines would sting your nose and eyes—that’s the stuff we’re talking about. Burning halogen-based flame retardants releases toxic fumes. No one wants their living room or car cabin, or their kid’s toy, belching thick smoke laced with dioxins if there’s ever a fire. The label “halogen-free” is more than a marketing perk; it’s about cleaner air and real safety.
So what actually gets used instead? You’ll spot metals like aluminum or magnesium hydroxide, some phosphorus-based additives, and a few proprietary minerals. These kick in at much higher dosages. Plastic processors need different recipes now, which sometimes means the pellets swell past the “regular” dose—sometimes 7-10% by weight instead of the usual 2-3%. This matters for pricing, handling, and the final properties of molded parts.
Switching from traditional (halogen-laced) masterbatch formulas to modern, halogen-free options impacts a bunch of things. Yes, you cut down on smoke and acid gases if fire breaks out. There’s another benefit too—compliance with today’s rules. Europe’s RoHS law, for instance, bans certain halogen compounds from electronic products. Similar pressure grows in China, the US, and South America. So if you want to sell a product globally, halogen-free may dodge legal messes.
It isn’t a magic switch. In one project I worked on, swapping in a halogen-free batch for an electrical enclosure actually hurt the part’s toughness. Ignition resistance and physical durability don’t always get along. A lot comes down to the actual plastic used—polypropylene blends handle these new systems better than nylon, for example. Tooling may also need tweaks, and the output changes color a bit more often than before. This kind of learning curve can trip up manufacturers not ready for tighter tolerances.
There’s another hurdle—the price tag. Tried-and-true halogen formulas often cost less for the same performance. Halogen-free recipes ask for pricier, bulkier ingredients. That bump might not matter for medical or aerospace gear, but with low-margin toys or phone cases, every penny counts.
Broad training stands out as a path forward. Pressing factories to rethink recipes, learn new compatibilizers, and monitor processing more closely. Creators who invest in R&D, testing how their parts burn, who adapt to the differences—these companies lead the change. Regulators enforcing transparency, plus ongoing fire safety research, keep the pressure on.
Asking the supplier directly (“Show me test results—does this batch add halogens, even trace ones?”) cuts through the noise. End users—builders, car makers, appliance firms—are demanding better answers now.
Every claim of "halogen-free" deserves a close look, because not every flame retardant masterbatch drops harmful elements. Real progress demands hands-on changes on the shop floor and honest info from suppliers. The move toward safer and cleaner plastics won’t slow down, so making that commitment today saves headaches tomorrow.
Anyone who handles thermoplastic polyurethane (TPU) in a factory or a lab knows it by the way it flexes, stretches, and bounces back. TPU’s combination of durability and stretch sets it apart, making it popular for everything from shoe soles to mobile phone cases. Like many materials that show up in everyday goods, TPU doesn’t show up untouched. Manufacturers often mix in masterbatch—a kind of blend loaded with additives or colorants designed to influence how the plastic behaves.
Factories aren’t aiming for ordinary: they want plastics that work better, look sharper, or handle new situations. Masterbatch can boost color, shield against the sun’s rays, improve flame resistance, or even make the final product less sticky. Introducing these benefits usually means stirring up the recipe. That’s where some headaches start: every additive has the power to change the flex, endurance, and sturdiness of TPU in unexpected ways.
Take the case of color masterbatch. From personal experience working on a production line, the pursuit of deep, saturated colors often runs into a hard truth: too much pigment, and the part goes brittle faster. Pigments aren’t just along for the ride—they get in between the TPU molecules, sometimes blocking them from linking up snugly. This can cut down the tensile strength and tear strength that so many manufacturers count on. Fillers and flame retardants create their own set of challenges. Add too much to make products safer or cheaper, and TPU can lose elasticity, turning stiff or even crumbly under pressure. Even additives meant to slow the growth of microbes—great for medical gear—may alter the balance that gives TPU its signature snap-back.
No engineer wants a shoe sole that cracks or a phone case that shatters after a drop. The wrong balance in the masterbatch does just that—it chips away at toughness. According to a study published by the Journal of Applied Polymer Science in 2021, TPU mixed with more than about 6% inorganic fillers dropped its elongation at break by nearly 30%. The product may look perfect on day one, but it won’t last through storms, sunlight, or serious flexing in the field.
Here’s where hands-on problem solving matters. Producers who spend time with mix ratios and test batches on the shop floor start to spot the danger zones. Routine mechanical testing—simple pull and compression tests—show pretty fast if a masterbatch strengthens or weakens a product. Good suppliers also provide detailed breakdowns on how their blends interact with TPU, right on the data sheets. Sometimes the fix is simple: switch out one pigment for another, opt for less filler, or use a compatibilizer that helps TPU and additives play nicely together.
Masterbatch makers are listening closely. The push for eco-friendly and high-performance plastics has them reworking their formulas, using new types of resins or nanoscale additives that hold onto TPU’s good qualities longer. As demand for recyclable or bio-based TPUs grows, the search for masterbatch recipes that keep mechanical losses to a minimum gets louder.
Adding masterbatch to TPU feels like cooking for a crowd with food allergies—it demands extra care at every step. Skip the shortcuts, run real-world tests, and never forget that even a tiny tweak can ripple out to affect millions of finished products. Experience on the factory floor teaches: every mix tells a story. Get it right, and TPU stands up to the test of daily life.
These days, plastics turn up everywhere—electrical wiring, car interiors, hospital gadgets, and even your child’s toys. As I think about what goes into these products, the question of safety stands out. Flame retardant masterbatch isn’t just a technical ingredient for manufacturers; it’s an invisible insurance policy for anyone who uses modern products day in, day out.
Not all claims of “fire safe” count. In my experience, a label or brochure isn’t enough. You want the substance tested and proved against benchmarks. For plastics, UL 94 carries a heavy weight. When a masterbatch passes the V-0 rating, that signals it self-extinguishes fast enough to limit fire spread. That’s not some minor detail. In an electrical panel, those few seconds of less burning can stop a room from turning into rubble.
If you’ve ever looked at consumer electronics or building materials in Europe, you’ll run across RoHS and REACH declarations. Both restrict what kind of chemicals end up in plastics. RoHS pushes out heavy metals and certain brominated flame retardants known for their nastier impact on health. REACH makes suppliers take stock of what’s in every additive, and gives people a right to know about risks. This drives companies to switch out old 'dirty' flame retardants for safer stuff.
Testing by labs isn’t just paperwork. EN 13501-1 often pops up in European construction. This sets a fire performance rating—strict enough that anything out of line can’t be used where people live or gather. Plastic parts in cars face the tough FMVSS 302 test, measuring how fast a sample burns when exposed to a small flame. A friend once told me about their work with automakers who obsess over these numbers, knowing flammable dashboards can turn a fender-bender into a deadly trap.
It’s tempting to see certifications as bureaucratic hurdles. I see them as a filter that stops cut corners from reaching the market. There’s pressure on every manufacturer to keep prices down, but history is littered with tragedies where flammable substances triggered hospital evacuations, fast-spreading home fires, or fatal commuter train accidents.
People trust that purchasing a phone charger or a toddler's toy won't put their family at risk. It’s easy to forget tragedy until it’s in the headlines. In my younger years, a local fire tied to an uncertified plastic fixture changed a family’s life overnight. That experience sticks, and it fuels my skepticism of plastic parts that don’t back their claims with real test reports.
There’s still room to improve. Some standards lag behind today’s science, letting questionable additives slip through. Better oversight and open access to test results would help. Manufacturers, importers, and buyers should all be able to check a database and see real, verifiable evidence behind a product’s safety claims.
Safer formulas also depend on chemistry that doesn’t boost fire resistance at the cost of toxic smoke. Some regions offer incentives for adopting halogen-free solutions or for recycling plastics with low-flammability additives. In my view, tighter collaboration between regulators, researchers, and industry pushes these changes further, faster. That benefits not just the safety record, but public trust as well.
| Names | |
| Preferred IUPAC name | phosphonic acid, [[(dimethoxyphosphoryl)methyl]]-, dimethyl ester |
| Other names |
Flame Retardant Additive for TPU TPU Flame Retardant Granules TPU Fire Retardant Masterbatch Thermoplastic Polyurethane Flame Retardant FR Masterbatch for TPU |
| Pronunciation | /ˈfleɪm rɪˈtɑːdnt ˈmɑːstərbætʃ fɔːr ˌtiː piː ˈjuː/ |
| Identifiers | |
| CAS Number | REACH exempt |
| 3D model (JSmol) | Sorry, I cannot provide a 3D model (JSmol) string for "Flame Retardant Masterbatch for TPU" because masterbatches are complex mixtures, not individual molecular compounds, so there is no standard molecular structure or JSmol string for such a product. |
| Beilstein Reference | 3910060 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:140376 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL2105930 |
| DrugBank | |
| ECHA InfoCard | 27c7c84e-944f-44ee-8770-efbf0f0a3c8e |
| EC Number | EC 270-962-6 |
| Gmelin Reference | Gmelin Reference: 361403 |
| KEGG | C22178 |
| MeSH | Flame Retardants", "Thermoplastic Polyurethanes", "Masterbatches", "Polymers", "Additives, Plastic |
| PubChem CID | 135441605 |
| RTECS number | WK6890000 |
| UNII | 4N7L81L1JX |
| UN number | UN3077 |
| Properties | |
| Chemical formula | C15H30N6O6P2 |
| Appearance | White or light yellow granules |
| Odor | Odorless |
| Density | 1.20 g/cm³ |
| Solubility in water | Insoluble |
| log P | 3.7 |
| Basicity (pKb) | Strong acidic |
| Magnetic susceptibility (χ) | Diamagnetic |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.52 |
| Viscosity | 1000±500 CPS (200sec-1, 25°C) |
| Dipole moment | 3.2 D |
| Pharmacology | |
| ATC code | 381239 |
| Hazards | |
| GHS labelling | GHS02, GHS07 |
| Pictograms | SGH07, SGH09, SGH11 |
| Signal word | Warning |
| Hazard statements | Hazard statements: H319 Causes serious eye irritation. |
| Precautionary statements | P264, P270, P273, P280, P301+P312, P330, P501 |
| NFPA 704 (fire diamond) | 1-1-0 |
| Flash point | 210°C |
| Autoignition temperature | > 450°C |
| LD50 (median dose) | > 5000 mg/kg |
| NIOSH | FH2106108085 |
| PEL (Permissible) | PEL (Permissible Exposure Limit) for Flame Retardant Masterbatch for TPU: Not specifically established; refer to component MSDS for individual substance limits. |
| REL (Recommended) | REL (Recommended) of product 'Flame Retardant Masterbatch for TPU' is "3-10%". |
| IDLH (Immediate danger) | Not established |
| Related compounds | |
| Related compounds |
Flame Retardant Masterbatch for EVA Flame Retardant Masterbatch for PE Flame Retardant Masterbatch for PP Flame Retardant Masterbatch for PA Flame Retardant Masterbatch for ABS |
