Polyvinyl alcohol, often called PVA, doesn’t have roots going back centuries like glass or copper. The world started seeing it in practical use after the early 20th century, when German chemists Hermann and Haehnel stumbled across it, not by careful design but through experimenting with polyvinyl compounds. Laboratories took years to figure out how to get consistent quality, and by the 1950s, industrial-scale production began gearing up. PVA proved handy from the start, showing up in textiles and adhesives before anyone dreamed up its water-soluble film applications. Through years of research, improved synthesis brought reliable grades for film, which ended up in homes and factories worldwide. Living through the single-use plastic era, it’s clear that PVA’s breakthrough wasn’t just deliberate innovation, but a lucky mesh of curiosity and necessity responding to real-world pain points—packaging headaches, pollution headaches, and the need for safer handling. The growing awareness of waste and worker safety kept driving new uses.
Walk into any supermarket or pharmacy and there's a fair chance PVA film played a role somewhere on the shelves. It turns up in places ranging from detergent pouches to agricultural seed tapes and laundry pods. What sets water-soluble film grade apart is its balance: it shows robust strength in dry form, then cleanly disappears in water. Consumers see it as clear, often odorless film, something usually mistaken for regular plastic until it vanishes down the drain. For packagers, the draw comes from its tidy mix of mechanical strength and quick dissolving. More than ticking boxes, it lets companies shrink packaging waste and improve shop-floor working conditions by offering single-dose packaging that’s clean and easy to handle. This grade of PVA stands as a practical answer for manufacturers who have environmental and operational pressures breathing down their necks.
Polyvinyl alcohol film grabs attention for its unique mix of properties. At room temperature, it looks like regular translucent plastic—tough enough to hold small loads, yet soft enough to crumple or fold. Once water hits, things change fast. The film breaks down, turning from solid sheet to near-invisible solution in minutes. PVA’s water solubility is driven by its hydroxyl groups, which latch on to water molecules. High tensile strength and puncture resistance give it backbone while handling, but that all shifts in the wash, leaving behind only a water-based solution. PVA isn't flammable, doesn't hold on to static like some plastics, and doesn't soak up much odour—good news in places where cleanliness matters. It also shows good barrier resistance to oxygen, but doesn’t block moisture very well, which steers it away from certain food-wrap duties. Over the years I saw techs and managers learn the hard way about leaving rolls of PVA near sinks or leaks—the film would be gone in hours.
Labels for this product spell out something most poly bags ignore—solubility in water and film thickness range. You see clear specs on breaking strength, elongation, residual ash content, viscosity of the starting polymer, and water solubility point, measured in both temperature and time. Commercial rolls arrive with each pallet marked to highlight shelf life, since PVA can suck up moisture even from indoor air, leading to premature breakdown. MSDS labels offer key warnings about handling and storage, focusing on dryness and clean handling. Factories I visited kept these films tight-wrapped and stacked in climate-controlled rooms, a step beyond ordinary shrink wrap practices for commodity plastics. There’s a lesson here for risk managers: track everything from batch number to storage conditions, not just basic chemical identifiers. Consistency builds trust in supply chains, especially where regulations on biodegradable materials keep tightening.
Making PVA isn’t some backroom chemical magic, but it does call for tight process controls. Workers start with polyvinyl acetate, then turn it into PVA by a chemical process called hydrolysis, using an alcohol like methanol and a little catalyst. Factories fine-tune their process to hit the sweet spot in the degree of polymerization and hydrolysis, because these numbers control everything from film strength to rate of dissolution. The final step pushes melted PVA through a die to make a flat sheet, rolling and slitting it to the widths customers need. If you’ve ever watched a production run, you see the care in balancing cooling rate and tension to stop sticky films from fusing to rollers or coming out wrinkled. Cutter blades need constant care—PVA dulls them faster than some plastics do. To add function, manufacturers blend in plasticizers or surfactants at precise stages, enhancing film stretch or dissolution speed for a given job.
PVA film may look simple, but chemists have built a toolbox of tweaks to improve it. Cross-linking—joining chains with special reagents—lets films resist water for a short time before finally breaking apart, which designers use for two-in-one pouches or staged-released agricultural products. Adding other natural or synthetic polymers modifies solubility or toughness, a trick that matches film to oddball water conditions. You also see surface treatments to let ink stick better, or to load in mosquito repellents for agricultural use. Chemical reactions can go wrong, of course, leaving film with incomplete hydrolysis or odd fragment breakdown, which is why producers test each batch for unreacted monomer. I remember early years of biodegradable films showing up with sticky residue after washing. Experience showed that real-world performance relies not just on chemical recipe, but on careful process control and continuous improvement in lab testing. In R&D circles, even minor tweaks—adding an extra plasticizer, trying a quirky filler—can spin out a whole new product line.
PVA goes by many trade names and synonyms around the world. In laundry and cleaning, names like MonoSol or SoluPak pop up. Chemical suppliers list polyvinyl alcohol as PVAL, PVOH, or even PVAl film depending on region and purity. Some application fields brand it as water-dispersible film, water-soluble packaging, or agriculture-grade PVA sheets. Each name carries reputation; some buyers trust certain brands more because they’ve passed internal lab tests, or because they consistently meet environmental claims. Confusion over names crops up as startups rebrand PVA to jump on eco-friendly bandwagons, so technical teams value suppliers who back up claims with solid test data instead of catchy green logos.
Factories handling PVA water-soluble film don’t deal with highly toxic ingredients, but ignoring safety protocols still brings trouble. Film dust can irritate eyes and lungs, especially if rolls get dropped or cut in bulk. Water-repellent gloves and dry storage areas reduce the risk of unwanted dissolution or nasty slip hazards. Machine operators keep film away from damp surfaces to stop premature melting—nothing ruins a production shift like a roll of film reduced to gooey mass. Regulatory bodies set workplace exposure limits and call for routine checks on airborne particles in major plants. End users care about more than just test reports, expecting statements on heavy metal content, formaldehyde-free claims, and confirmation that neither production nor disposal introduces health risks downstream. My experience with safety officers reminds me that the smallest oversight—an open window on a humid day, a leak in the roof—can turn thousands of dollars of film into a total loss.
Anyone who’s bought dishwasher pods or laundry capsules knows a bit about PVA's appeal. In cleaning, it makes portion-controlled pouches that cut down on plastic bottle waste and improve workplace hygiene, since workers stay clear of strong detergents. In agriculture, farmers use seed tapes and tuber wraps, saving back pain and wasted seed while reducing pollution from traditional wrappers. Hospitals and labs deploy PVA bags for handling infectious linen and instrument kits—the bag dissolves in the wash, slashing risk of exposure for laundry staff. Recent years saw surging interest from food producers keen to eliminate fossil-derived plastics from packaging dry soup mixes, spices, and ready-to-mix beverages, though moisture sensitivity puts a damper on snacks and bread products. From industrial factories to household cleaning routines, PVA films have reshaped routines, encouraging care in handling, but giving back huge savings in speed and safety.
Research on PVA doesn’t slow down even as the market matures. Labs focus on raising film strength, controlling dissolve rates, and mixing additives that deliver new effects—from anti-static traits to better color resistance. Scientists push to blend PVA with natural polymers like starch or cellulose, aiming at truly compostable films that degrade outside commercial composters. Collaboration with detergent formulators or agricultural chemical giants fuels custom blends, forcing technical teams to keep up with rapidly changing demands. Investment in pilot plants to test new co-polymers has driven PVA innovation; I’ve watched young chemists receive awards for films that solve old problems, like dog waste bags that degrade fully in landfill leachate. The R&D race has made PVA a poster child for smart, responsive material science, especially as regulators clamp down on single-use plastics across Europe, the US, and Asia-Pacific. Real impact comes when bench-scale inspiration makes the leap to commercial production without ballooning cost or environmental burden.
For all its promise as a biodegradable alternative, PVA’s impact on health and the environment gets close scrutiny. Chronic exposure studies in rats and aquatic species show little acute toxicity, but researchers track the long-term effects of breakdown by-products, especially in wastewater systems that lack the right enzymes. Key government and independent reviews point out that most commercial grades pass rigorous safety checks for both skin contact and ingestion, but gaps remain in understanding microplastics behavior for heavily modified or blended films dumped in colder, low-bacteria environments. Hospitals and municipalities demand confirmatory studies showing safe breakdown, so leading producers back up their products with third-party testing and transparency in publishing toxicity data. Pressure mounts for cycle testing—does PVA vanish entirely, or just shatter into invisible fragments? The challenge for researchers comes in bridging lab results with field data, since every city’s wastewater and composting methods differ in efficiency. Best practices mean pushing for public disclosure of all metabolites, not just holding up a “zero risk” banner as a marketing move.
Looking ahead, the story of PVA water-soluble film is far from done. Growing consumer distaste for single-use plastics, coupled with major government bans on traditional packaging, sets the stage for a sharp rise in demand. But the road forward depends on practical breakthroughs—in cost-cutting, better blending with natural materials, and improving robustness in ever-more-damp or unforgiving conditions. Research partnerships between universities and manufacturers push for films that work in a wider range of temperatures and water chemistries, while start-ups explore PVA applications in fields as diverse as 3D printing and biomedicine. Real progress depends on transparent testing, honest communication about environmental claims, and commitment to plugging knowledge gaps—especially for the life cycle of by-products. The next decade could see PVA move from a niche solution to a key building block in sustainable manufacturing, yet the industry will need to double down on accountability and cross-disciplinary effort to deliver its fullest promise for both business and the environment.
Walk through any field planting operation, and you’ll spot farmers loading up pesticide, herbicide, or fertilizer mixtures. Safety is always on their minds—skin contact or inhaling powders brings serious health concerns and, over time, environmental damage. Polyvinyl alcohol (PVA) water-soluble film wraps these agrochemicals tightly. Pour pre-measured packets into the sprayer’s tank, and the film dissolves on contact with water. Farmers avoid pouring, scooping, or spilling chemicals, which keeps hands clean and cuts down stray dust or granules drifting in the air. Less contaminated packaging ends up in landfills, because the film breaks down cleanly, leaving behind little waste.
Open a box of laundry pods, and you’ll hold another main use of this film. Each dose of detergent or dishwasher cleaner owes its neatness to PVA. The film seals in powders and gels, then melts away in the wash, releasing exactly what’s needed for a load. No gloppy spills around the machine, no guessing about portions. This perk matches our drive for time savings and accuracy—especially in busy homes or commercial laundry rooms. Manufacturers lean on studies showing that mishandling concentrated detergents leads to accidents, but with PVA film, accidental exposure drops significantly compared to bottled liquid.
Sachet packaging keeps single-use servings, like bath salts, dyes, or cleaning chemicals, contained until dropped in water. Old habits meant peeling apart layers of plastic and tossing empty wrappers. PVA film offers a tool for fighting waste. Traditional plastics linger in landfills or slip into waterways, where they harm wildlife. Water-soluble film disappears after use under the faucet or in washing machines, leaving behind far fewer microplastics in soils and rivers. The European Chemical Agency and various environmental advocates have pointed out that forward-looking brands can make a measurable difference by swapping old plastics for these films.
In hospitals or textile mills, water-soluble film offers another level of hygiene and efficiency. Textile dyeing, for example, means handling lots of colorants and treatment agents. PVA film holds these in quick-dissolving packets that drop straight into the dye bath, cutting cross-contamination and wasted chemical. In hospitals, laundry contaminated by patients with infections gets sealed directly inside special bags made from this film. Staff load bags right into washing machines without opening, saving nurses and orderlies from coming into contact with viruses or bacteria. Data from health agencies has shown a real drop in transmission risk where hospitals use these specialty bags.
Think about mold-release agents in manufacturing, or cement additives at a construction site. Handling sticky, fast-acting chemicals has always been tricky, sometimes even dangerous. Sealing them inside PVA film packs simplifies processes. Workers toss packets into mixing tanks, never touching hazardous or hard-to-remove substances. The film breaks down quickly during mixing, so nothing clogs up equipment. Companies see fewer workplace accidents and less downtime from cleaning stuck-on residue.
As manufacturers look for smarter packaging and safer handling, water-soluble films have stepped beyond just labs and home cleaners. Quality, safety, and sustainability come together in this technology. There’s room for more breakthrough innovations—a few researchers are even working on edible versions for food packaging or unique uses in pharmaceuticals. For anyone searching for ways to shrink waste while protecting people, these films mark a genuine shift: small change, big impact.
Ask anyone who’s handled water-soluble packaging film or pharma applications and you’ll get plenty of numbers tossed around—60 seconds, 3 minutes, sometimes longer. But what happens in the lab doesn’t always line up with a kitchen sink or a glass of tap water. I’ve tried dissolving these films at home and in neighborhood community centers for project demos. The clock always ticks a little slower outside a strictly controlled environment. Most manufacturers state somewhere between 30 seconds to five minutes, depending on the heat and how much you stir.
The main thing is temperature. Hot tap water will chew right through typical polyvinyl alcohol (PVA) films in under a minute. Cold water, especially straight from a spring or well, can double or triple the wait time. I remember a summer science camp where the kids grew restless watching stubborn strips of film swirl around in beakers of cold water instead of vanishing on cue.
Agitation makes a difference. Films left to soak quietly will linger much longer. Give them a stir, and the material goes away quicker. In factories, machines make sure the films never sit still, always moving for that rapid breakdown. At home, expect things to slow down if you toss a pouch into a still glass.
Film thickness matters too. Some detergent pods use a thick film to hold up under heavy handling. Others, like quick-release medicinal capsules, rely on thinner versions. I’ve handled both, and the thinner type slides out of existence fast—thicker sheets need extra time.
For medicines, nobody wants to wait and wonder if a dose has gone down or if it’s stuck somewhere. Consistency builds trust. In laundry pods, that perfect moment between dissolving early so nothing’s wasted or late so sticky mess coats the drum can make a difference to a family on a tight budget.
This isn’t just about convenience; it’s about safety, too. If a film hangs around too long in a child’s water bottle or doesn’t break down in a wastewater plant, the risks grow. In 2022, an independent review found traces of undissolved films making it into aquatic environments, raising questions for regulators and everyday users alike.
I've seen improvements over the years. Producers worked to speed up dissolution without sacrificing strength by tweaking molecular weights of PVA and blending in plant-based additives. Heating elements in dishwashers and washing machines help too, guaranteeing water stays well above room temperature, so nothing lingers.
Clearer labeling could guide users. Showing both minimum and maximum dissolution times and advising ideal temperatures or agitation has helped in community pilot programs I’ve supported. For the technical crowd, real-world dissolution curves get shared online more often now, helping buyers choose the right film for local tap water conditions.
We also see cities upgrading. More advanced water treatment filters catch stubborn scraps before they leave facilities. Still, it takes responsible disposal at home—ensuring users don’t flush undissolved pouches or films—so everyone plays a part.
All the hype about instant dissolution can overshadow real-world performance. Using these films responsibly means looking beyond the fine print to how local water, home routines, and product design interact. Sharing experiences helps close the gap between lab promise and everyday results.
Many shoppers today spot packaging labeled as “biodegradable” or “eco-friendly” and feel a little less guilt tossing it in the trash. The promise behind these labels sounds simple enough: the package will break down, disappear, and won’t harm the earth. After years of sorting my own recycling, I’ve noticed a gap between what packages claim and what actually happens after we throw them away.
Most eco-checklists point at film plastics—think food wraps, shopping bags, shrink wrap—as a major pollution source. A report from the United Nations shows that single-use plastics make up more than half of global plastic waste. The film often slips through recycling streams, ending up in landfills or scattered across landscapes. Companies have responded with “biodegradable” films made from substances such as polylactic acid (PLA), starch blends, or even plant cellulose. These films technically break down faster than traditional polyethylene, at least under controlled conditions.
The catch starts here: many so-called biodegradable films need the high temperatures of industrial composting to fully degrade. Few municipal compost facilities actually accept them. Toss them on your backyard pile, and the wrap may hold together for years, just like regular plastic. Studies from Wageningen University found that commercially compostable films disappear within three months in a hot composter—but barely break down outdoors or in marine water. On city streets, parks, or beaches, the change is marginal.
Switching to bioplastics isn’t a free pass either. Growing corn or potatoes to make PLA or similar materials uses land and water, competing with food crops. Farming drives up greenhouse gas emissions and adds strain on biodiversity. I’ve talked with food producers who try these films, only to find the shelf life or sealing properties unreliable. Some end up reverting to petrochemical-based wraps because the alternatives fail in real-world use—thin products leak or let food spoil faster.
Still, shifting away from fossil-based plastics matters. The oil industry relies on plastic manufacturing for a hefty slice of its profits. Reducing demand helps cut long-term dependence on petrochemicals. Research out of the Ellen MacArthur Foundation shows nearly every country would benefit from using less new plastic, whether through compostable films or reusable containers.
For people shopping or running a business, the best option starts with reducing packaging overall. I see more companies switching to bulk bins, deposit-return bottles, or simple paper wrappings. Reusables—glass jars, sturdy totes—cut waste at the source. Where packaging can’t be avoided, look for clear recycling or composting streams. Films marked with the seedling logo for industrial composting will only break down in the right facility; toss those in the landfill, and they last just as long as the old plastic bag.
Change often starts with local governments building better waste sorting, composting, and education programs. Small tweaks like a carrot for businesses that cut single-use plastics, or honest information on bin lids, help nudge everyone in the right direction. The goal isn’t to swap one type of garbage for another, but to lower the amount of junk that piles up in the first place.
People want packaging that matches their values: less pollution, more reuse, honesty about what happens after the trash trucks leave. Biodegradable film can play a role, but clear facts and real-world infrastructure matter more than a green label pasted over business as usual.
Years ago, I helped a friend build a greenhouse in his backyard. We stood for hours arguing over the right type of plastic sheet. Not a glamorous purchase, but if you pick the wrong strength or thickness, you might spend all spring patching holes. Whether building, manufacturing, or choosing packaging, the basic decision about strength and thickness isn’t just ticking off a box. It’s about how long something will last and how well it will do its job.
Shoppers see choices that range from whisper-thin wraps to sturdy, almost rigid panels. Plastics, metals, paper—every material comes in different grades. Polyethylene sheets, for example, start at thin—around 2 mil—for easy covering, and climb up to 10 mil and beyond for heavier protection. Glass bottles for sodas often boast similar wall strengths, almost double what you’d find in cheaper juice jars, because carbonation and transport demand it.
There’s science behind this. The thicker the material, the harder it is to puncture or tear. People expect more durability from thicker packaging, and recyclers rely on certain grades simply because thinner stuff shreds apart too quickly during processing. Food safety relies heavily on barrier strength too. To keep out moisture, oxygen, and contamination, a sandwich bag won’t cut it for pharmaceuticals or electronics. It’s easy to forget that lab techs and factory workers deal with this every day, hunting for errors to prevent real-world problems down the line.
Factories rarely stick to one “standard” thickness. Coffee companies use multi-layered foil packets to block aroma leaks, while seed sellers turn to 3-mil polyethylene bags, sometimes adding UV protection to slow sun damage in transit. Construction crews tend to look for rolls of plastic sheeting between 4 and 10 mil, enough to keep out rain or dust without ballooning project costs. Hospitals demand medical films that hold up to handling but stay soft against skin, often using reinforced films that still flex but won’t rip at every corner.
Go too thin, and you gamble with shelf life, shelf appeal, or physical protection. Go too thick, and budgets take a hit. More plastic means more weight, and shipping costs jump. Overbuilding a product wastes resources and makes it tougher for recycling programs to keep up. As a rule, it makes sense to match the thickness and strength to the actual challenge at hand—not add “safety” just for the sake of it.
Real progress will come as more consumers and producers demand smarter options. Bioplastics and reinforced papers now show promise, offering better tear resistance without bulk. Some new food pouches rely on nanotechnology—ultra-thin layers delivering high barrier properties without heavy materials. Lighter, stronger choices benefit shipping, cut down waste, and keep more products fresh for longer.
Regulators and engineers keep working together to push for clarity in labelling strength and thickness. Clear information on packaging, with straightforward labels, helps regular folks—like my friend and me—make smart choices and get the job done right the first time. Next time you pick up a product, take a second look at its specs. Getting strength and thickness right is more than technical jargon; it’s about quality, value, and less waste down the line.
Every so often, I’ve stepped into a packaging or chemical storeroom and spotted Polyvinyl Alcohol (PVA) water soluble film tossed next to cleaning supplies or jammed into a sunny corner. A roll left under harsh lights or right in the patch of that drafty AC vent always catches my eye. The headaches it creates might not show up in an hour, but they’re on the way. PVA film breaks down with moisture or wrong temperatures. Ignore those environmental triggers and you’ll end up with gummy sheets, stuck-together film, or even ruined rolls. Businesses dealing in detergents, agriculture, textiles, and especially pharmaceuticals already understand that something as minor as moisture can mean rework, waste, or even rejected batches.
Humidity takes the crown for ways to wreck this material. Since PVA dissolves in water, even long exposure to slightly damp air can start the breakdown. Once, I visited a manufacturing client who kept their stock near an open door. Summer arrived and the humidity climbed through the roof. Within weeks, sheets fused together and wouldn’t release from the roll. Those losses pile up and the product can’t be trusted anymore; there’s no easy fix once water’s done its work.
Experts recommend keeping the storage room at a relative humidity between 20% and 50%. Anything over 60% becomes a problem quickly. This isn’t about chasing perfection—it’s a simple move that saves money and frustration. Small room dehumidifiers, common in regions with humid summers, make a difference. Not every facility has honeycomb walls and perfect HVAC, so even a portable solution offers relief. If your climate blows hot and wet for half the year, investing in a simple digital hygrometer pays for itself, letting you spot trends before film warps or clumps.
Polyvinyl Alcohol doesn’t just break down with moist air. Heat can turn sheets brittle or make them stick together. Keeping the storage area between 15°C and 30°C works for most environments. Direct sunlight changes everything—exposed film not only heats unevenly but bakes until it weakens, even before it touches any water. If the storeroom has windows, dark curtains or film over the glass stop the damage.
Every roll or stack from a reputable supplier arrives in sealed plastic or foil pouches. Discarding those straight away creates trouble. I always tell colleagues: treat original packaging like a shield. Tear it open only right before use. If you have to split a box, seal what’s left and close the box tightly. It’s easy to slap on a bit of tape or use zippered bags. Scattered rolls sitting bare on shelves always pick up moisture from the air, even if it feels dry that day.
Curious things build up in storage spaces—oils, dust, solvents, and acids from other projects. Keeping PVA film away from liquid chemicals and dust extends its life. Even traces of oil or detergent settle onto sheets and weaken their edges. Shelves kept free from spills last longer, too. It’s not busywork; it’s simple experience. Nobody needs to risk contaminating sensitive films just because the shelf neighbor tipped over.
Many small businesses set up wire racks and close bins to keep rolls off the floor—and away from moisture that sometimes sneaks in from concrete. I’ve seen facilities use designated cabinets with weather seals. This practice isolates film from the rest of the storage mess and stops accidental splashes. Don’t cram rolls against cold walls where droplets collect.
In the end, storing PVA film doesn’t demand high technology or huge investments. Most mistakes disappear with common sense—control temperature and humidity, shield from sunlight, keep films in their packaging, and keep everything tidy. These habits preserve not only the material but your reputation, keeping projects on track and saving real money against preventable waste.
| Names | |
| Preferred IUPAC name | poly(ethenol) |
| Other names |
PVA Water Soluble Film
Polyvinyl Alcohol Film Water Soluble PVA Film PVOH Film Water Soluble Film |
| Pronunciation | /ˌpɒl.iˈvɪn.ɪl ˈæl.kə.hɒl ˈwɔː.tər ˈsɒl.juː.bəl fɪlm ɡreɪd/ |
| Identifiers | |
| CAS Number | 9002-89-5 |
| Beilstein Reference | 1430723 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:87361 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL3989489 |
| ChemSpider | 14424 |
| DrugBank | DB09459 |
| ECHA InfoCard | ECHA InfoCard: 100.264.186 |
| EC Number | 9002-89-5 |
| Gmelin Reference | 87237 |
| KEGG | C13546 |
| MeSH | D020041 |
| PubChem CID | 460335 |
| RTECS number | TR0100000 |
| UNII | 28RYY2NE3C |
| UN number | Not regulated |
| CompTox Dashboard (EPA) | DTXSID5020186 |
| Properties | |
| Chemical formula | (C2H4O)n |
| Molar mass | 44.05 g/mol |
| Appearance | White or light yellowish film |
| Odor | Odorless |
| Density | 1.23 g/cm3 |
| Solubility in water | Soluble in water |
| log P | -3.5 |
| Vapor pressure | Negligible |
| Acidity (pKa) | pKa ≈ 13–15 |
| Basicity (pKb) | 9.5 |
| Magnetic susceptibility (χ) | -9.0 × 10⁻⁶ cm³/mol |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.53 |
| Viscosity | 10 - 60 mpa.s |
| Dipole moment | 1.6 ~ 1.7 D |
| Thermochemistry | |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 185 J·mol⁻¹·K⁻¹ |
| Std enthalpy of formation (ΔfH⦵298) | -481.3 kJ/mol |
| Pharmacology | |
| ATC code | A03AX04 |
| Hazards | |
| GHS labelling | GHS07, GHS09 |
| Pictograms | GHS07, GHS09 |
| Signal word | Warning |
| Hazard statements | H319: Causes serious eye irritation. |
| Precautionary statements | P264, P270, P273, P301+P312, P305+P351+P338, P501 |
| NFPA 704 (fire diamond) | 1-0-0 |
| Autoignition temperature | 400°C |
| Lethal dose or concentration | LD50 Oral Rat > 2000 mg/kg |
| LD50 (median dose) | LD50 (median dose): Oral-rat LD50: > 2000 mg/kg |
| NIOSH | MV6095000 |
| PEL (Permissible) | Not Established |
| REL (Recommended) | <30 mg/m³ |
| Related compounds | |
| Related compounds |
Polyvinyl alcohol
Polyvinyl acetate Polyethylene glycol Polyvinylpyrrolidone Starch-based film Hydroxypropyl methylcellulose Cellulose ethers |
