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Not every chemical starts its journey as a star in the laboratory, and 2-tert-Butylimino-2-diethylamino-1,3-dimethylperhydro-1,3,2-diazaphosphorine—often called BEMP for short—follows this pattern. It first caught serious attention in the late 20th century as chemists chased better, stronger, and less hazardous organic bases. There’s always been a tug-of-war between power and control—chemicals that do the job, but don’t chew up the surroundings or the researcher handling them. The classic strong bases like sodium amide and lithium diisopropylamide do their work, but not without quirks and quirks bring trouble in industry scale-up or in tightly regulated sectors like pharmaceuticals. BEMP’s entry gave synthetic chemists a new tool that worked, and worked well, especially in reactions where ordinary organic bases fizzled out or caused unwanted side stories in the reaction flask. Watching this shift from the inside, you see careers change when a base like this turns up—it’s as if a new wrench fits the bolt you’ve been stripping for years. Suddenly, possibilities for cleaner reactions and higher yields aren’t just the talk of a conference coffee break; they reshape lab routines and patent filings.
BEMP is nothing if not punchy. At room temperature, it’s a colorless or pale yellowish liquid that kicks off a strong, ammonia-like odor—hardly surprising, given its lineage in the world of nitrogen-rich organophosphorus compounds. But where most powerful bases deliver instability or corrosive tantrums, BEMP stands out with a welcome steadiness. That makes it reasonably easy to handle in a glovebox or under a dry nitrogen atmosphere, though no one should mistake this steadiness for safety in an open-air lab. In my own early days working with it, storage always ranked as a bigger worry than most glassware mishaps. Exposing it to moisture or acids spells chemical drama, leading to erratic reactions or, worse, contamination that stays hidden until analysis reveals a batch’s lost purity. A researcher learns to respect such reagents, developing habits and vigilance that don’t fade with longer work weeks. Phosphazene bases like BEMP have found a comfortable home because their unique arrangement of nitrogen and phosphorus allows for strong, non-nucleophilic basicity in organic reactions, helping avoid side products that simpler amines or metal amides invite.
Anyone opening a bottle of BEMP knows its labeling won’t read like a grocery list—this isn’t a chemistry set for amateurs. Labels spell out purity, storage cautions, and the tight temperature window where BEMP behaves. Often, it travels dissolved in an organic solvent for easier pipetting and dilution, but this is mostly a precaution against accidental splashes or runaway exotherms. No one needs an unexpected froth of caustic vapors in a packed lab when opening a new shipment. Close reading of technical sheets reveals the minimum purity necessary for high-yield organic transformations, and any reputable supplier lays out conditions for keeping out moisture and minimizing decomposition risk. Labels don’t just warn—they educate, and the seasoned chemist takes this seriously, drilling the details into lab routines for every student or new group member who steps through the door. The right label, I’ve noticed, does as much to keep accidents in check as a fume hood or double gloving. A good label fosters respect—an essential ingredient with every strong base.
BEMP’s synthesis isn’t a school experiment you do on a whim. Its roots show up in the reaction between tert-butyl isocyanide and phosphoryl chloride, which then undergoes a dance with diethylamine and methylating agents. Each synthetic step demands close control of temperature, careful exclusion of air and water, and meticulous monitoring for side reactions. This stands as a practical reminder that while commercial samples offer reliability, making BEMP from scratch in small-scale research settings places a real premium on training, equipment, and clean technique. Watching more experienced hands coax a reaction along, you realize how even well-understood routes present risks. Production scale-ups force even more focus on containment, waste handling, and risk management, since organophosphorus species have an unfortunate talent for escaping into air or water if steps slip out of control. While commercial supply remains the main source for most labs, advances in synthetic strategies keep trickling in from academic groups aiming for greener, safer, or cheaper production of these strong yet selective bases.
BEMP’s claim to fame rests on its ability to selectively pull protons from stubborn molecules and enable transformations that less robust bases fail to tackle. In nucleophilic substitution reactions, elimination chemistry, and enolate generation, BEMP often outpaces the competition on speed while cutting down on messy byproducts. The non-nucleophilic nature of its bulky framework allows it to leave behind the substrate essentially untouched, an important trait in multi-step syntheses where every atom counts. Beyond direct basicity, chemists sometimes tweak the BEMP molecule itself, tuning its alkyl groups or phosphorus substituents to match the quirks of a given substrate. These modifications matter for medicinal chemistry, where achieving a difficult bond formation means the difference between a candidate drug succeeding or flopping. Watching the literature—journal clubs and preprint alerts—highlights how modification of BEMP and its cousins keeps opening new doors. Chemical creativity rarely stands still, especially where high stakes or commercial payoffs shadow the work.
Reading the literature or scanning a chemical catalog, one runs into a parade of names—BEMP, 2-tert-butylimino-2-diethylamino-1,3-dimethylperhydro-1,3,2-diazaphosphorine, and less formal abbreviations. Names matter when tracing regulatory compliance or checking compatibility in databases, and it’s just as easy to miss a crucial paper because a different synonym tags the same compound. This point rings true for those of us compiling references for patent work or writing up a review—chemical aliases can muddle even the sharpest search skills and foster confusion over what’s really happening at the molecular level. As databases grow dense, using standard InChI or CAS numbers has become essential. Keeping names straight doesn’t just help avoid costly mistakes; it shapes communication and understanding across the international research community.
Hazards lurk in every strong base, and BEMP calls for respect both from practitioners and from institutions overseeing chemical safety. The caustic, aggressive nature of BEMP means direct contact should always be avoided, and even short exposure to vapors can cause harm. Engineers and lab managers drill into newcomers the rituals of glove, goggle, and fume hood—not out of rote compliance, but out of stories and scars handed down by those who went before. Labs that run smooth with BEMP usually feature spill kits, labeled disposal protocols, and rigorous glovebox maintenance. Good habits start with a respect for unpredictability; BEMP reacts enthusiastically with acids, moisture, and oxidizers. No shortcut justifies the hazard, and near-misses get logged and reviewed for hard lessons learned. These shared stories remind every chemist that chemicals don’t read safety data sheets—people do. Going home whole depends not on memorizing rules, but on cultivating reflexes and routines that keep sharp edges at bay. On top of that, following best practice doesn’t mean staying static; new research into safer containers, improved extraction, or automatic dispensing continues to shape how and where chemists use this base.
Phosphazene bases like BEMP have carved a key role in peptide synthesis, particularly in the world of solid-phase chemistry where sensitive couplings make or break the integrity of a sequence. Medicinal chemists chased high selectivity in heterocycle formation and alkylation reactions, and BEMP’s knack for delivering clean, high-yield transformations often saves the day where ordinary amines fall flat. Industrial formulations depend on BEMP for producing specialty resins, high-performance polymers, or laboratory reagents whose purity dictates downstream value. Working in an environment where every milligram counts, a chemist comes to rely on BEMP’s consistency. Beyond small molecules, ongoing innovation in materials science and green chemistry keeps seeking bases that straddle strength and reduced toxicity, so BEMP remains in active discussion as processes get reimagined with sustainability in mind. The stories I hear from colleagues using BEMP in late-night troubleshooting reflect the compound’s utility—if there’s a tough problem with a proton in the wrong place, BEMP often finds its way onto the bench for a crack at the toughest jobs.
Accelerating research momentum keeps uncovering new BEMP applications and limitations. Studies often focus on finding less hazardous alternatives for established bases, exploring reaction mechanisms to sharpen selectivity, and dissecting the subtle toxicity or environmental impacts of persistent organophosphorus compounds. Toxicity data never feels complete in this field—current research notes skin, eye, and respiratory irritancy, pushing for ever-tighter exposure thresholds. Animal tests show the potential for organophosphorus compounds like BEMP to disrupt enzymes, but precise chronic exposure effects remain a topic in active study. Where regulatory oversight intensifies, academic and industrial labs pivot toward greener, safer, and more recyclable base systems, aiming to combine BEMP-level performance with a smaller risk profile. Government grants and industry partnerships increasingly weigh funding against cleaner manufacturing and safer handling. BEMP’s future may lie in fine-tuned modifications—safer analogs, smarter delivery systems, or catalytically recyclable versions. Chemists will keep probing its boundaries, challenging it with new substrates, and demanding more from every strong base that passes through the lab door. As laboratories move toward digitalization and automation, the tools for handling sharp reagents like BEMP only grow sharper. That progress means safer, smarter, and more sustainable chemistry won’t be optional—it’ll be expected. From experience, the best science happens when risk and reward meet clear eyes and sturdy gloves, and for BEMP, those lessons will keep shaping its fate for years to come.
Busy chemistry labs brim with exotic reagents, but few spark as much excitement among synthetic chemists as the strong non-nucleophilic bases. 2-tert-Butylimino-2-diethylamino-1,3-dimethylperhydro-1,3,2-diazaphosphorine, which many call “BEMP” for short, defines this class. BEMP and its cousins let scientists pull off transformations that weak bases can’t touch, particularly deprotonation reactions in organic synthesis. You won’t find BEMP in households or casual conversations—its story plays out in fume hoods, journals, and the hands of synthetic chemists pushing boundaries.
Anyone who’s tried deprotonating a molecule that refuses to part with a proton knows the pain. In my days running reactions, watching my starting material refuse to budge felt like pounding sand. The magic of BEMP is its extraordinary basicity. Chemists targeting enolates, carbanions, or other reactive intermediates often turn to BEMP because it doesn’t jump in and react with electrophiles. While many strong bases—like sodium hydride or lithium diisopropylamide—can be nucleophilic, opening the door to side reactions, BEMP mostly leaves the neighboring groups alone. That’s a life-saver for delicate molecules and complex natural product syntheses. Its structure keeps it “bulky” enough to grab protons without picking fights with other electrophilic sites.
Medicinal chemists keep BEMP nearby, especially during the early stages of drug discovery. Modern drug synthesis often involves tricky steps—alkylations, condensations, or the formation of carbon-carbon bonds. Many drug scaffolds demand cleaner results than older, “messier” bases deliver, especially in the hands of those working with expensive building blocks or tiny sample sizes. During graduate school, my colleagues and I sometimes calculated how much a failed alkylation would cost the department, and you start to appreciate the value of reagents that don’t waste your time or money.
Green chemistry isn’t just a buzzword. Companies and universities want new methods that cut down on waste. Strong, selective bases let chemists avoid excess reagents and limit purification steps. Cleaner reactions mean fewer solvents, less hazardous waste, and fewer headaches in the cleanup stage. BEMP, thanks to its selectivity, fits into that puzzle. There’s no magic bullet, though—commercial-scale adoption demands careful consideration. Some strong bases are easier to handle or cheaper, but for many challenging reactions, scientists see better yields and cleaner profiles with BEMP.
Folks worried about safety or cost sometimes reach for alternatives like DBU or DBN, both well-known amidine bases with solid track records. But each base comes with trade-offs. Sodium hydride, for instance, can spark or explode if handled carelessly; BEMP leans toward greater operational safety. At the same time, not all synthetic steps demand BEMP’s punch—many simple deprotonations perform fine with traditional bases. The important thing for chemists is matching the task to the tool. Those not deep in the field would be surprised at the trial-and-error, head-scratching, and occasional swearing that goes into just choosing the right base.
Research teams keep churning out new derivatives and tweaks, hoping to raise the bar even higher. Some look for bases that deliver similar power but break down into safer or more easily recycled components. Others strive for stronger, yet less expensive reagents. The absence of one-size-fits-all solutions keeps things lively. For now, though, whenever a molecule puts up a real fight, BEMP often plays hero—helping turn stubborn starting materials into tomorrow’s drugs, dyes, or advanced materials.
We often reach for a formula to figure out what a compound is made of, expecting it to shed light on much more than just a string of letters and numbers. Every chemical formula tells a story about the atoms that come together and how they connect. This detail shows not just the makeup of a substance, but hints at how it behaves, its safety, its applications, and sometimes even its history in the world of research or industry.
A chemical formula, like H2O for water, amounts to a simple code. It shows us that each molecule brings together two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen atom. For something more complex, such as C8H10N4O2—which is caffeine—we learn even more: four nitrogens, a tight arrangement of carbons, hydrogens, and two oxygens. There’s lots of research counting these atoms, running spectrometry, and mapping molecular connections so no one needs to guess. Researchers rely on this information because certainty matters, especially in medicine, food science, or materials engineering.
Many mistakes happen when folks get formulas mixed up. Switching one atom for another can turn something helpful into something harmful. There’s an old study from the late '80s that showed an unnamed chemist swapped potassium for sodium by accident. The result: an experiment with no results, and a waste of weeks. Nobody likes that.
The molecular weight (or molar mass) backs every formula. You add up the atomic weights—carbon at about 12.01, hydrogen about 1.01, oxygen 16, and so on—and get a true measure, often in grams per mole. This number has a daily impact for chemists, pharmacists, and people in labs everywhere making solutions, dosing medications, or calibrating machines. If a pharmacist mixed up the molecular weight, a patient could easily get the wrong dose. That brings risk, and these little numbers become a matter of safety, not only accuracy.
A handful of chemicals share elements but take on very different roles. For instance, CO (carbon monoxide) and CO2 (carbon dioxide). The formula reveals the difference. Their molecular weights—28.01 g/mol for CO, 44.01 g/mol for CO2—get cited in medical toxicology for safety calculations. These numbers are tools, not just facts for trivia night.
More transparency in labeling and teaching chemistry saves time and prevents costly errors. In school, I learned that memorizing didn’t work until I connected each formula to real-world examples. That approach pays off in the lab and classroom. Digital tools, molecular modeling software, and up-to-date databases reduce human error. Using CAS numbers and double-checking weight calculations helps everyone avoid mishaps and confusion. Laboratories with strict documentation and routine checks rarely see big mistakes. They set a standard that's worth following for anyone handling chemicals—students, researchers, or manufacturers.
People often overlook the risks in laboratories until something goes wrong. 2-tert-Butylimino-2-diethylamino-1,3-dimethylperhydro-1,3,2-diazaphosphorine (let’s call it BEMP for sanity’s sake) is one of those chemicals that forces a person to slow down and really read the label before finding a resting place for the bottle. A strong, non-nucleophilic base like BEMP can raise eyebrows among chemists, and with good reason. This compound draws moisture like a sponge and reacts with water. Left uncapped, it can ruin a reaction, etch glassware, or worse, turn shelf storage into a clean-up operation involving gloves and respirators.
BEMP doesn’t like water. Exposing it to air shortens its life and changes its behavior. I once saw a bottle start clumping on the shelf after just a couple days of careless handling, even though no one expected any problems. Chemistry isn’t always forgiving. Storage must start with a dry, airtight container. Glass bottles with PTFE-lined caps do a good job, since those white Teflon liners keep out not just moisture but stray bits of air, too. Tucking desiccant packs inside the outer storage cabinet absorbs what little humidity sneaks through. Silica gel or molecular sieves do most of the heavy lifting—but remember, they need to get swapped out or dried regularly.
Heat shortens the life of reactive chemicals. Storing BEMP at room temperature is usually safe, but labs that run warm call for cool, dark cabinets away from direct sunlight. Chemical stability often owes as much to darkness as it does to dryness. Metal shelves can hold cold more than wood, so wooden or plastic-lined cabinets help even out temperature swings. After one summer where I saw storage temperatures rise above thirty degrees Celsius, I learned to respect the power of a good, regulated lab fridge. Some choose to invest in dedicated chemical fridges for stability’s sake—regular food fridges run colder and moister, which actually increases risk.
Chemical safety often depends most on good habits. Seeing a chemical like BEMP in shared spaces means every user must recap the container quickly and record each withdrawal. Using disposable spatulas or syringes helps keep the rest of the supply untouched by stray moisture. Once someone leaves a cap loose “just for a moment,” risk builds up. Colored tape with the date opened, plus clear hazard labels, remind people what’s inside and help avoid friendly fire or guesswork. Regular checks—monthly, at the least—prevent surprises. Any sign of clumping, caking, or discoloration means it’s time to dispose safely instead of hoping for the best.
Even with careful storage, spills and contamination can catch people by surprise. Emergency spill kits, proper ventilation, and gloves aren't optional—they’re basic practice. Fume hoods protect users from nasty surprises. Written protocols, practiced before things go wrong, help everyone stay clear-headed if things get messy. Digital inventories and scheduled reviews further nudge labs away from complacency.
BEMP won’t forgive shortcuts. Making a habit of double-checking storage after each use keeps both people and research on track. In my experience, investing the extra time for preparation always beats letting chaos creep in after a subtle accident. Simple habits, like adding fresh desiccant and labeling clearly, solve most problems before they start. Lab safety rarely earns headlines, but it’s the quiet discipline behind every experiment that goes right.
Living next to a manufacturing plant during my college years, I saw situations where one mistake with a container or a hurried decision put folks at real risk. Most people don’t consider just how quickly a routine task can go sideways, especially if they’re not serious about chemistry’s wild side. Even something as common as bleach turns nasty with ammonia fumes bumping around. Multiply that risk by industrial strength or volume and stakes shoot up fast.
Some substances corrode skin in seconds; others send out invisible fumes that knock out your sense of smell and safety in one go. I’ve seen colleagues learn too late that a quick splash in the eye turns into months of recovery, or that an “ordinary” powder might explode if tiny sparks find it. Vapors can hover in the air, not making a fuss until an unsuspecting person walks in without gear. A friend of mine suffered from nerve symptoms for months after daily inhalation of poorly contained chemical dust.
Fire risk lurks in unexpected places. Many solvents ignite with nothing more than static electricity. You can’t always count on sight or smell since some compounds, like carbon monoxide or hydrogen sulfide, kill quietly. Water won’t save you every time, either; when water mixes with certain chemicals, it only feeds the flames or releases toxic gases.
I once saw a drum of acidic solution stored above eye level split open because of a small bump. Acid rained down, ruining anything in its path. Gravity’s not an ally once containers get bulky and old. The mess, both health and legal, lasts long after the cleanup.
Chemicals deserve respect, not just labels. Good ventilation changes the whole picture—exhaust fans, not open windows, get toxic air gone. Safety data sheets stay more valuable than manuals, especially if read before opening a lid. I never open a container unless I know exactly what’s inside and what protective gear fits the job. Goggle and glove standards aren’t optional if you plan to avoid hospital visits.
Emergency showers and eye wash stations belong within easy reach, placed after watching real rescue drills, not because regulations say so. Knowing how to use fire blankets or chemical spill kits comes as basic workplace wisdom, not as fine print. It’s not enough to throw on gloves; barrier creams and face shields make the difference once spills happen. Some old-timers roll their eyes at full gear but scars last longer than a five-minute suit-up.
Leaders need to stop hiding from questions about what’s in the back room or down the hall. If the person in charge doesn’t know the process, no one else trusts the system. Regular drills—unexpected, loud, real—shake everyone out of autopilot. Nobody remembers endless PowerPoints; everyone remembers a mock evacuation with alarms blaring.
Disposal habits draw a hard line for safety. Containers for acids, organics, and bases stand separate. Labels tell their full story, all the way from purchase to the landfill. Trusting an unlabeled jar to be harmless ranks among the top mistakes of new employees.
When chemical safety works, it’s mostly invisible—the air feels clean, people stay healthy, and work never stops for an accident report. The moment shortcuts tempt someone, past disasters remind us: The best professionals walk through every step because they’ve seen what happens when you don’t.
People often ask if a product comes in different purity grades or packaging sizes. The answer carries more weight than it sounds. Anyone who’s ever tried to buy sodium chloride knows a “yes” doesn’t end the conversation. A medical researcher shopping for pharmaceutical sodium chloride has to think way past “salt is salt.” That same compound in a food processing plant comes with its own set of rules and expectations. Quality, reliability, and real-world results ride on the difference.
Back in grad school, I spent hours in the university storeroom comparing product specs. Lab-grade, ACS-grade, USP… The wrong choice invited headaches, wasted time, bad data. It only took one failed experiment to hammer home how much purity matters. Regular customers outside the research world face the same reality. Tech teams in semiconductors depend on electronics-grade hydrogen peroxide. Hospitals check purity levels for each bottle of disinfectant. One size or grade simply doesn’t fit all.
Food-grade citric acid? The distributor’s warehouse better keep it clear from industrial cleaners or contamination would risk food safety. Building materials might tolerate some impurities, but those same impurities spell disaster for biopharma, where any foreign particles can ruin a batch costing millions of dollars. Standards aren’t about paperwork—they’re about safety, compliance, proven performance.
Packaging options tie into this. I’ve worked with manufacturers who needed a 1-liter bottle for bench work, a 200-liter drum for dye production, and tiny ampoules for analytical kits—all in the same month. Smaller packs keep air exposure and waste low in the lab. Bulk orders cut costs in industry. Fragile glass, sturdy drums, single-use plastics—the wrong choice leads to spills, expired inventory, or even lawsuits.
With limited options, a school science department might splurge only to end up with chemicals they can’t store or use safely. A startup biotech company could lose its edge by relying on raw materials with impurities that go undetected until it’s too late. An accident or recall doesn’t just cost money, it erodes trust, slows innovation, and risks public health. Product recalls and enforcement actions reported by regulatory bodies like the FDA and EPA often link back to poor ingredient traceability or contamination.
Strong supplier partnerships make it easier to customize purchases instead of settling for one-size-fits-all. Clear product labeling with third-party certification—from USP to ISO—gives buyers confidence that what they receive matches what they need. Digital ordering platforms with robust documentation keep the process transparent. Bulk buyers should ask about tamper-evident packaging, expiration dating, and batch testing. On the other side, suppliers who publish purity data and offer flexible order sizes show a real commitment to customer success.
Science, medicine, industry—every field moves faster and safer with the right grades and pack sizes. Investing in choice, transparency, and traceability means fewer mistakes, safer outcomes, and better results. In my experience, those few extra minutes spent understanding grades and packaging pay off for years.
| Names | |
| Preferred IUPAC name | N-tert-butyl-N′,N′-diethyl-N,N-dimethyl-1,3,2-diazaphosphinan-2-imine |
| Other names |
BTP-DDA diethylamino-t-butylimino-dimethyldiazaphospholidine tert-butylimino-diethylamino-dimethyldiazaphospholidine N,N’-diethyl-N,N’-dimethyl-1,3,2-diazaphospholidine, tert-butylimino |
| Pronunciation | /tuː-tɜːt-ˈbjuːtɪlˌɪmiːnoʊ-tuː-daɪˌɛθɪlˈæminoʊ-wʌn-θriː-daɪˈmɛθɪl-pərˈhaɪdroʊ-wʌn-θriː-tuː-daɪˈæzəˌfɒsfəriːn/ |
| Identifiers | |
| CAS Number | 70168-23-5 |
| 3D model (JSmol) | `load =C1N(P(=N-tBu)(N(C2)CC)N(C)C1C)C` |
| Beilstein Reference | 1718737 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:90697 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL608703 |
| ChemSpider | 22254615 |
| DrugBank | DB08246 |
| ECHA InfoCard | 03ea0a0c-879a-45f0-acc0-2433fb137901 |
| EC Number | 682-500-4 |
| Gmelin Reference | 108145 |
| KEGG | C18796 |
| MeSH | D017239 |
| PubChem CID | 6604105 |
| RTECS number | TD9275000 |
| UNII | 2SRR7M08TI |
| UN number | UN3272 |
| CompTox Dashboard (EPA) | DTXSID0039242 |
| Properties | |
| Chemical formula | C12H30N4P |
| Molar mass | 331.49 g/mol |
| Appearance | Yellow liquid |
| Odor | Amine-like |
| Density | 0.98 g/mL |
| Solubility in water | Insoluble |
| log P | 1.52 |
| Vapor pressure | 0.05 Pa (20 °C) |
| Acidity (pKa) | 31.3 |
| Basicity (pKb) | 3.74 |
| Magnetic susceptibility (χ) | −62.72 × 10⁻⁶ cm³/mol |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.470 |
| Viscosity | 25 mPa·s (20 °C) |
| Dipole moment | 3.1039 Debye |
| Thermochemistry | |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 557.8 J·mol⁻¹·K⁻¹ |
| Std enthalpy of formation (ΔfH⦵298) | -302.6 kJ/mol |
| Std enthalpy of combustion (ΔcH⦵298) | No data |
| Hazards | |
| GHS labelling | GHS02,GHS07 |
| Pictograms | GHS05,GHS07 |
| Signal word | Warning |
| Hazard statements | H226, H302, H314 |
| Precautionary statements | P261, P264, P271, P280, P301+P312, P305+P351+P338, P337+P313, P330, P501 |
| NFPA 704 (fire diamond) | 1-3-2-₩ |
| Flash point | 95 °C |
| Lethal dose or concentration | LD₅₀ (oral, rat): 860 mg/kg |
| LD50 (median dose) | LD50 (median dose) of 2-tert-Butylimino-2-diethylamino-1,3-dimethylperhydro-1,3,2-diazaphosphorine: "75 mg/kg (oral, rat) |
| NIOSH | XN8570000 |
| PEL (Permissible) | Not Established |
| IDLH (Immediate danger) | NIOSH has not established an IDLH value for 2-tert-Butylimino-2-diethylamino-1,3-dimethylperhydro-1,3,2-diazaphosphorine. |
| Related compounds | |
| Related compounds |
Hexamethylphosphoramide Tetramethylphosphorodiamidic chloride N,N-Dimethylaminotrimethylsilane Chlorodiethylphosphoramidous chloride Phosphoramide |
