Vegetable carbon black holds a long story, striking back to early uses of wood and plant-based charcoal in food coloring and medicine across ancient civilizations. Artisans and healers centuries ago would grind charred plant matter to make inks and remedies before chemical analysis entered the picture. In the 19th century, the rise of industrial chemistry opened new ways to process plant carbon, sparking commercial use. Factories began shifting traditional small-batch methods to large-scale calcination, refining processes to improve purity. As food safety laws tightened, regulations pushed makers toward more standardized products, better control of raw material sources, and improved filtration techniques. Today’s product comes from this long line—modern processes reflect technology’s progress, but those early needs for safe, plant-based color haven’t changed. Personally, seeing old pharmacy bottles labeled “vegetable black” brings home how science sometimes cycles and evolves, rather than just moving in a straight line.
At its core, vegetable carbon black results from heating organic plant material (often wood, cellulose, or coconut shells) without oxygen—a process called pyrolysis. This removes volatile substances, concentrating the carbon content and leaving behind a black, fine powder. In food, you’ll recognize it as E153, a colorant used to shade baked goods, cheeses, or sauces. It isn’t just food where it shows up—a surprising number of medical, pharmaceutical, and industrial applications rely on it. Demand for plant-derived carbon black boomed after consumers grew wary of petroleum-derived options, especially when they learned about the cleaner profile of vegetable sources. With people now more interested in where ingredients come from, this shift makes complete sense. The food industry wants color that doesn’t raise red flags for safety; industrial manufacturers need a carbon source that meets specs without fuel-based residues.
Vegetable carbon black looks like a jet-black, odorless powder with a slightly gritty feel. If you rub it between your fingers, it leaves a persistent mark that water alone can’t shift. Under a microscope, tiny, irregular carbon particles form tangled webs—this high surface area helps in both coloring and activity as a filter. Its structure comes from aromatic rings linked in random patterns, making it tough and chemically stable. Heat resistance makes this material useful in baking and autoclaving, but too much acid or oxidizer will break it down and release gases. In water, it mostly hangs suspended rather than dissolving. Chemical tests usually show limited ash content and almost no trace metals if the producer follows good sourcing and manufacturing practice. After years in the research lab, cleaning and prepping glassware stained by carbon black always stood out as a stubborn chore because of its tenacity—a testament to the way those carbon bonds lock in structure.
Technical specs start with carbon content, often topping 96%. Moisture sits at low percentages, keeping the powder dry and easy to handle. Particle size affects dispersibility—a key factor in food processing and ink production. For food-grade batches, parameters include heavy metal limits, pH, and microbial load. European Union and US standards both say E153 or “vegetable carbon” should appear clearly on ingredient labels. Regulations stress batch traceability and source transparency to prevent contaminants from entering the food chain. As someone in the regulatory space, label audits for colorants often reveal how strict authorities have become. Producers must back up all claims with analytical results and batch certificates.
Manufacturing includes choosing clean, dry plant matter, charring at high temperatures (600–900°C) in a closed vessel, then cooling the residue. Any leftover volatile oils get vented. The resulting product is crushed, washed, dried, and sieved to make sure it’s fine and consistent. Some facilities use acid-wash treatments to remove metals and other impurities, before a last drying under controlled conditions. Workers need dust control systems, since airborne particles pose inhalation risks and leave stubborn stains on equipment. Over the years, changes in environmental rules pushed manufacturers to recover waste heat, treat fumes, and recycle water. The plant-based nature of the raw material still means that carbon black batches can reflect some seasonal and regional quirks.
Typical vegetable carbon black won’t react under mild conditions—it’s inert to most acids, bases, and solvents. It’s common practice to activate the surface by exposing the powder to steam or oxidizing gases, which creates functional groups that boost adsorption power for filtration or improve dispersion in polymers. Some labs graft organic molecules onto the surface, giving new uses in drug delivery and environmental cleanup. Letting carbon black sit with strong oxidizers can break down the structure, releasing carbon dioxide and changing the particle size. In my experience, most chemical tweaks boil down to balancing the need for surface area versus stability—a tricky task, since a too-reactive black won’t last, but a “dead” carbon powder won’t perform special roles. Recent advances in green chemistry target gentler activation, opening paths to novel uses in medicine and sensor technology.
Vegetable carbon black goes by a handful of aliases. In food, E153 and “vegetable carbon” top the list. Industry circles might use “carbon black (vegetable origin)”, “plant black”, or “carbonis ligni,” especially in older pharmacopeias. Specialty suppliers patent trade names for blends tailored to cosmetics and drugs. Some confusion arises from overlap with “activated charcoal,” which often starts from similar sources but undergoes harsher activation and higher porosity. In consumer goods, you might spot creative branding—“Black Pearl” or “EcoCarbon”—playing up the eco-friendly angle. People new to this area can miss important differences between ordinary charcoal and food-grade vegetable carbon—tools like material safety data sheets help sort out these fine points.
Regulators set clear rules about purity, allowable heavy metals, and microbiological safety for vegetable carbon black, particularly if it’s heading to the food or pharmaceutical market. Operators must train on best handling practice, including masks and protective clothing to keep dust exposure down and cleaning guidelines for spills. Regular third-party tests check for contaminants like lead, cadmium, or pathogenic microbes. National and international standard-setting bodies (FAO, JECFA, FDA, EFSA) regularly review acceptable daily intakes and label requirements. As a food technologist, handling this kind of product day-to-day means audits, paperwork, and sampling—safety doesn’t leave much room for shortcuts. Documenting every step means tracing a batch from the field or forest to the finished product, protecting both workers and end-users.
Vegetable carbon black covers a lot of ground. In food, it gives striking shades to licorice candies, gourmet breads, cheese rinds, and certain alcoholic drinks. In pharmaceuticals, it acts as an adsorbent or even as an antidote against poison when processed into activated carbon. Chic designers use it in cosmetics for eyeliner or mascara, relying on its deep color and skin safety. Beyond these sectors, environmental engineers use it for water purification, while manufacturers deploy it in rubbers and resins for heat resistance or pigmenting. Artists still grind their own from charred willow, a practice going back centuries. From a practical standpoint, the versatility always impressed me—one material moves from bread to battery lab or makeup counter just by tailoring the preparation.
Research centers focus on pushing both purity and functionality. Teams test new plant sources like bamboo or waste crop stalks, hunting for cheaper, more sustainable feedstocks. Laboratory projects continue to tweak particle size for targeted coloring or adsorption applications. Graphene-like materials from vegetable carbon spark excitement in electronics and drug delivery. Studies look at blending with minerals and biopolymers to form new composites with antimicrobial or UV-proof properties. Years spent in an R&D lab hammered home how tough it is to balance sustainability with technical performance—every “green” tweak needs hard data to prove benefits. Collaborations with farmers, chemical engineers, and toxicologists drive the field forward, with test batches moving rapidly from bench to pilot plant.
Food-grade vegetable carbon black earns its safety reputation after decades of toxicological review. Animal feeding studies show low absorption—most passes harmlessly through the digestive tract. The Joint FAO/WHO Expert Committee assigned it “not specified” status, meaning risk is minimal at normal use levels. High doses can cause gut irritation or constipation, problems seen mostly with activated charcoal in medical overdose treatment. Authorities keep a close eye out for residues of polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons, heavy metals, or dioxins, with test methods now sensitive enough to catch parts per billion. On the job, I remember training on when to escalate investigations into contamination—a factory batch with rock-high lead levels means all product gets pulled. Ongoing studies probe inhalation risk (such as in industrial settings), while researchers in Europe and Japan keep exploring long-term impacts in both food and non-food markets. So far, evidence supports its continued safe use with basic exposure controls.
Sourcing, sustainability, and smarter function shape the future of vegetable carbon black. With pressure rising to use renewable, traceable crops, attention focuses on streamlining the carbonization process to cut waste and energy use. Researchers are mapping out new pathways in nanotechnology, where vegetable black provides the backbone for sensors, drug carriers, and battery electrodes. Small tweaks in the manufacturing line could someday bring down costs and raise the adoption in electronics or environmental cleanup. Regulatory agencies look set to keep strengthening purity standards, meaning companies will refine testing and transparency. As consumer attention sharpens around ingredient origins, “clean label” carbon black—showing both safety and a sustainable story—looks ready to play a bigger role across markets. Looking back, my years seeing both industrial and culinary sides of vegetable carbon black confirm how tightly success will depend on joining innovation with safety and honest sourcing.
Vegetable carbon black usually starts with simple raw plants, often things like coconut shells, wood, peat, and sometimes cellulose-rich substances. A process called pyrolysis comes into play, which sounds complex but really just means heating this plant stuff in the absence of oxygen. Instead of burning to ash, the material breaks down and leaves behind almost pure carbon. Some food companies and cosmetics brands turn to this carbon because it’s a deep, rich black made from natural beginnings.
I once doubted if coloring from burnt plants could really be safe in food. Turns out, major food agencies like the European Food Safety Authority and the U.S. Food and Drug Administration have weighed in. Vegetable carbon black appears on lists of permitted food colorants in many countries. For instance, the European Union marks it as E153, capping how much can go into products like licorice, candies, and baked goods. They’ve run toxicology tests, and as long as you stick with approved amounts, it doesn’t build up in the body or trigger allergies in most people.
Factories generating vegetable carbon black often resemble charcoal facilities. Large retorts heat wood, coconut shells, or even olive pits to over 600°C, but oxygen stays away to block flames. Out flows gas; left behind is a dense, carbon-laden material. Grinding and washing refine it into a jet-black powder.
Producers want a product free of leftover oil, metals, or dust. My time talking with a small candy maker showed me that sourcing matters—a clean, consistent input means smoother results in fudge or icing. It’s not just chemistry; it’s about the choices and control built into every step.
People often hear “carbon black” and think of industrial soot or ink. Not all blacks are equal. Synthetic carbon blacks, made from petrochemicals, come with toxicity risks and can’t legally join the party in most foods. Vegetable-derived carbon black leans on plants, promising fewer contaminants. It’s vegan and kosher, which fits with trends in specialty diets. In my own kitchen, it adds color to pasta and baked treats without an aftertaste or chemical load.
No ingredient story comes without concerns. If the starting materials aren’t pure, things like heavy metals or pesticides could sneak into the finished product. This puts pressure on producers to test batches for contaminants. Calls for more transparent labeling aren’t just noise—honest sourcing builds consumer trust.
There’s debate around nanomaterials in colorants, and some researchers suggest more study to rule out tiny particle risks. Solutions include better public data from manufacturers and stricter safety checks before approving new plant sources.
Vegetable carbon black isn’t just a niche food dye. It finds use in toothpaste, cosmetics, and even pharma coatings. Younger buyers and people with sensitivities keep boosting demand for plant-based, “clean label” additives. Still, scaling up without cutting corners will be the big test as popularity grows. It pays to ask about origin and to support brands committed to safe, thorough testing.
Vegetable carbon black comes from burning plant material, often wood or coconut shells, in a controlled way so only carbon remains. You’ll spot it under names like “vegetable carbon” or “E153” in ingredient lists, turning some foods jet black. Ice cream, licorice, bread, and plenty of trendy desserts use it to grab attention. This pigment stays stable during baking and processing, grabbing interest from bakers and food manufacturers wanting bold results.
Any ingredient swirling around our food system should face the microscope. In Europe, the European Food Safety Authority (EFSA) says vegetable carbon is safe for use as a coloring agent, but not unlimited: E153 can’t jump into foods meant for infants, and its levels in other foods get capped at low amounts. In the United States, things look different—the FDA doesn’t approve E153 for use. American manufacturers often turn to alternatives, like activated charcoal, which brings its own debate.
The difference between places isn’t just about government red tape—it says something bigger about what kind of research backs a food additive, the pace of updates to rules, and the way local nutrition experts see risk. Regulatory agencies sift through data from animal studies, chemical analyses, and reports of actual reactions in people before making these calls. So right away, how much you trust vegetable carbon black depends partly on where you live and whose opinion you value.
Most research suggests this pigment doesn’t absorb into the bloodstream through normal digestion. The carbon mostly slips out of the body in your stool, unchanged. Studies haven’t turned up strong evidence linking it to cancer or long-term gut problems, but those studies don’t span decades of daily heavy use either. For most healthy adults, eating a cookie or an ice cream cone with vegetable carbon here or there doesn’t stack up as a health risk.
One area of growing concern comes for folks with particular medical conditions. Activated carbon, often sold in detox pills or used for poisoning, soaks up medicines or nutrients because of its high surface area. Vegetable carbon black for food is less reactive, but gut absorption can still vary between people. Some researchers warn against regular use in those taking critical medications or with chronic illnesses.
Flashy food coloring trends point toward deeper conversations about what we eat. My own kitchen sometimes dives into novelty foods—squid-ink pasta, beetroot bread—but the basics stay the same: clarity on what’s in the food, real science behind its safety, and an honest discussion about trade-offs. Just because something looks cool doesn’t make it risk-free, but assuming all modern food coloring brings doom short-changes science.
For those wanting to keep E153 in their diet, moderation goes a long way. A handful of black-dyed treats as part of a wide range of foods shouldn’t spark fear. For parents or people with health conditions, asking a doctor or dietitian helps. Clear labeling, public research, and a willingness for food agencies to update guidance as new science appears protect everyone who cares about what lands on their plate.
Food safety often sits at the crossroads of tradition, curiosity, and science. Respecting the facts while staying honest about what needs more research keeps both cooks and eaters informed.
Charcoal from vegetables does a lot more than make your backyard grill work. In the world of food, manufacturers use vegetable carbon black mainly as a colorant. Bakeries reach for it when they want bread with deep, jet-black interiors. Artisan chefs use it for dramatic touches on burger buns, crackers, and even pasta. More families look for natural options in their food, and vegetable carbon black fits the bill far better than dyes based on petroleum.
Food labeling isn’t just a legal requirement—it’s about trust. A product colored with E153, which is the regulatory code for vegetable carbon black in Europe, signals a choice for plant-derived ingredients. This kind of transparency connects the food chain with people who want simpler, more familiar food sources.
Supplements and over-the-counter tablets take on an inky look from vegetable carbon black. The black tone doesn’t just make a supplement stand out. It makes it easier for patients to differentiate between products, preventing accidental mix-ups. I’ve had to sort through vitamins before, and there's no mistaking a pill colored this way. According to regulatory agencies, vegetable carbon black meets strict purity standards, so folks can feel at ease about what they’re swallowing.
You’ll find vegetable carbon black in mascaras, eyebrow pencils, and eyeliners. It brings that bold, true black that makeup artists chase. Unlike many synthetic pigments, vegetable carbon black comes from plants, which appeals to conscious shoppers and people with sensitive skin. Having grown up in a family where allergies ran rampant, finding makeup products without harsh chemicals or questionable synthetics meant a lot to us, and this pigment fits that need.
Art supply brands mix vegetable carbon black into some watercolors, acrylics, and specialty inks. Artists enjoy its deep matte finish, one that feels organic and less “plastic” to the touch. Since it isn’t sourced from fossil fuels, its footprint fits better with artists who think about sustainability. I’ve seen printmakers and painters switch over to these inks, especially in environmentally sensitive projects.
Hospitals sometimes rely on vegetable carbon black as an antidote for poisoning. Activated vegetable carbon does not act like a magic wipe, but it helps absorb certain toxins before the body can soak them in. Doctors and nurses keep it on hand, and emergency kits often include it for accidental ingestion cases. Its porous structure makes it valuable for these situations, and its plant origin reassures families and caregivers.
Vegetable carbon black isn’t perfect—production scale still presents challenges, and regulations vary from country to country. When I read labels at the grocery store, I notice black food is still a rare sight in some regions, probably because not every area gives the same green light to E153. Brands can push for more global alignment and invest in better sourcing. More research into growing cleaner crops for better carbon black would help too. This simple pigment touches foods, medicine, art, and personal care. Choosing safer, plant-based colorants moves us all toward a healthier, more accountable supply chain.
Vegetable carbon black sounds harmless at first glance. The name paints a picture of something pulled from the earth—maybe processed from carrots or deep green kale. That isn’t what you get in reality. Black food coloring gets used in licorice, baked goods, gourmet desserts, or even trendy burger buns. Food scientists create it by heating plant materials like coconut shells, wood, or peat in an oxygen-free environment. The process leaves behind pure black carbon powder.
The story changes depending on where you look. Strict vegans want certainty that not a single animal product touched their food, so every ingredient comes under scrutiny. Vegetable carbon black comes from plants—nothing directly animal-based lands in the production. On ingredient lists, you’ll see it as E153 in Europe or “vegetable carbon” on North American packaging. Reputable manufacturers say the source material only comes from plants like wood or cellulose.
Still, the story isn’t simple. Food factories don’t always explain if anything else gets used to process or filter the carbon. Some filtration processes outside of food production may use animal by-products, like bone char, to produce pure carbon for industrial applications. Food regulations in Europe and North America typically restrict this practice for anything made for eating. But unless a brand spells out every step, doubt lingers among some in the vegan community.
Natural means more than just “comes from a plant.” Vegetable carbon black doesn’t grow on a bush. The process bakes, burns, and purifies the carbon material at extremely high temperatures. You don’t find it in an unrefined state at the base of a tree.
Natural food advocates challenge anything that goes through such heavy processing. Despite coming from a plant, the end result looks and behaves nothing like the wood or coconut it came from. It is a food additive, and any food additive made by strong heat treatments straddles the line between “natural” and “artificial.” Some certifying agencies, like those behind organic labeling, won’t allow its use in their stamped products.
Studies so far haven’t found vegetable carbon black to cause harm at the levels allowed in food. The European Food Safety Authority reviewed it and didn’t flag any toxicity. The U.S. Food and Drug Administration permits it too. People with sensitive stomachs or gut issues have little to fear compared to, say, artificial dyes derived from petroleum.
Product transparency helps clear up confusion and mistrust. Brands interested in earning trust from vegans and health-conscious shoppers need to publish sourcing information and clarify every stage of the process. More food producers now find it worth the trouble, as modern consumers push for clear answers.
People who want to avoid ultra-processed additives can look for foods using naturally occurring colorants like squid ink, black sesame, or even activated charcoal—although those all come with their own considerations. Vegans who want certainty can seek out products certified vegan or contact brands for more information. Certifications from groups like The Vegan Society encourage brands to show their documentation, not just claim it’s plant-based and hope for the best.
Transparency and communication from brands create trust. Better labeling won’t solve every gray area, but it will help people make informed decisions that match their food values.
Go through the list of ingredients on certain candies, or peer at the label of trendy “goth” foods, and you might find vegetable carbon black, sometimes called carbon black or E153. This colorant comes from charred plant matter—often burned coconut shells or wood—and gives foods an intense black shade that food dyes can’t always match. The stuff shows up in licorice, some sweets and ice creams across Europe and Asia. In the United States, it hasn’t made the journey into many foods, mostly staying in non-food products these days.
I try to know what goes into my food, especially with colorants that have natural-sounding roots but odd histories. Vegetable carbon black isn’t toxic like some dyes used to be, and it doesn’t get absorbed in your stomach or intestines. Instead, it rides straight through, heading out pretty much unchanged. The European Food Safety Authority reviewed available studies and found little reason to worry about it being poisonous for most people at typical levels.
Still, charred stuff always makes me a little nervous. Lab research has leaned into whether eating burnt things can hurt DNA or trigger cancer. The studies on vegetable carbon black haven’t demonstrated real trouble at standard food-use amounts. Scientists fed large portions to rats and didn’t see major tumor risk. But I remember that charcoal—including the type used as a filter or medicine in hospitals—has a track record of binding not just toxins, but also vitamins and prescription drugs. People using activated charcoal sometimes end up flushing out helpful nutrients or losing the effect of medication. Carbon black in candies probably offers smaller amounts, but folks with sensitive digestion or on medication might want to watch out.
Eating foods with vegetable carbon black once in a while won’t likely do much. My friends who snack on black ice cream at summer fairs have never gotten sick, and I haven’t seen a digestive problem after eating licorice from Europe. That said, some people report mild stomach upset or show black stools—something that can cause a real scare until they remember the purple popsicles or colored buns from lunch. Black coloring in poop usually means the colorant isn’t absorbing, not that you’ve got internal bleeding, but it’s something the doctor will want to know if other symptoms show up.
People with known allergies to smoky foods might feel itchy or rashy if their body doesn’t like plant ash. Kids with sensitive stomachs, older adults with delayed digestion, or anyone on daily medication should take note of their intake. The amount of vegetable carbon black in a single serving of candy is pretty low, but repeat exposure always deserves attention.
Labeling laws can change how much trust we place in food colorants. Countries in the EU require full listings for colorants, and shoppers can avoid what doesn’t make them feel right. I always appreciate brands that explain where their colors come from and whether there’s any documented risk. Eating too much of any additive—including a naturally derived black pigment—rarely adds health benefits, so keeping an eye on new studies stays important. Food manufacturers could help by sharing more about their sourcing and supporting studies on long-term safety, especially for kids and frequent eaters.
| Names | |
| Preferred IUPAC name | Charcoal |
| Other names |
Carbon Black Vegetable Black Carbon Vegetable E153 Food Carbon Activated Vegetable Carbon |
| Pronunciation | /ˈvɛdʒ.tə.bəl ˈkɑː.bən blæk/ |
| Preferred IUPAC name | Charcoal |
| Other names |
Carbo Vegetabilis Carbon Black Vegetable Carbon E153 |
| Pronunciation | /ˈvɛdʒ.tə.bəl ˈkɑː.bən blæk/ |
| Identifiers | |
| CAS Number | 1333-86-4 |
| 3D model (JSmol) | C[C@H](N)C(=O)O |
| Beilstein Reference | 3858014 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:82720 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL1207197 |
| ChemSpider | 22201 |
| DrugBank | DB11097 |
| ECHA InfoCard | ECHA InfoCard: 03-2119981507-28-0000 |
| EC Number | 931-328-0 |
| Gmelin Reference | 16290 |
| KEGG | C02947 |
| MeSH | D002242 |
| PubChem CID | 25351 |
| RTECS number | GF2925000 |
| UNII | 3P89Q2E59E |
| UN number | UN1362 |
| CompTox Dashboard (EPA) | DTXSID4020492 |
| CAS Number | 1333-86-4 |
| 3D model (JSmol) | `3D model (JSmol)` for product **Vegetable Carbon Black**: `C` |
| Beilstein Reference | 1461316 |
| ChEBI | CHEBI:85234 |
| ChEMBL | CHEMBL1207201 |
| ChemSpider | 16211204 |
| DrugBank | DB11097 |
| ECHA InfoCard | echa:100.028.770 |
| EC Number | 1333-86-4 |
| Gmelin Reference | 13530 |
| KEGG | C18635 |
| MeSH | D002241 |
| PubChem CID | 16686374 |
| RTECS number | WK4887000 |
| UNII | 3P6ZZ6R068 |
| UN number | UN1362 |
| CompTox Dashboard (EPA) | DTXSID5020187 |
| Properties | |
| Chemical formula | C |
| Molar mass | 12.01 g/mol |
| Appearance | Black powder |
| Odor | Odorless |
| Density | 0.250 g/cm³ |
| Solubility in water | Insoluble |
| log P | -0.236 |
| Vapor pressure | Negligible |
| Basicity (pKb) | 6.0 - 8.0 |
| Magnetic susceptibility (χ) | -12.02E-6 |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.7500 |
| Viscosity | 30~40 cps |
| Chemical formula | C |
| Molar mass | 12.01 g/mol |
| Appearance | Fine, black powder |
| Odor | Odorless |
| Density | 0.26-0.35 g/cm³ |
| Solubility in water | Insoluble in water |
| log P | -1.48 |
| Vapor pressure | Negligible |
| Basicity (pKb) | 8.5 |
| Magnetic susceptibility (χ) | Diamagnetic |
| Refractive index (nD) | 1.0 – 1.1 |
| Viscosity | 10-60 cP |
| Dipole moment | 0.0 D |
| Thermochemistry | |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 2.2 J/mol·K |
| Std enthalpy of formation (ΔfH⦵298) | 0 kJ/mol |
| Std enthalpy of combustion (ΔcH⦵298) | -393.5 kJ/mol |
| Std molar entropy (S⦵298) | 2.86 |
| Std enthalpy of formation (ΔfH⦵298) | 0 kJ/mol |
| Std enthalpy of combustion (ΔcH⦵298) | -393.5 kJ/mol |
| Pharmacology | |
| ATC code | A0A013 |
| ATC code | A0B200 |
| Hazards | |
| Main hazards | May form explosible dust-air mixture if dispersed. |
| GHS labelling | GHS07, GHS08 |
| Pictograms | GHS07,GHS08 |
| Signal word | Warning |
| Hazard statements | H373: May cause damage to organs through prolonged or repeated exposure. |
| Precautionary statements | Precautionary statements: P261, P264, P270, P272, P280, P302+P352, P333+P313, P363, P501 |
| NFPA 704 (fire diamond) | 1-0-0 |
| Flash point | >100°C |
| Autoignition temperature | Autoignition temperature: 343°C (649°F) |
| Lethal dose or concentration | LD50 (Oral, Rat): > 10,000 mg/kg |
| LD50 (median dose) | LD50 (median dose): > 8000 mg/kg (Oral, Rat) |
| NIOSH | VN3500000 |
| PEL (Permissible) | 15 mg/m3 |
| REL (Recommended) | 0.4 g/kg |
| IDLH (Immediate danger) | Not established |
| GHS labelling | GHS07, Warning, H335, H319, H335, P261, P305+P351+P338 |
| Pictograms | GHS07,GHS09 |
| Signal word | Warning |
| Hazard statements | H319: Causes serious eye irritation. |
| Precautionary statements | P261, P264, P270, P272, P280, P302+P352, P303+P361+P353, P304+P340, P305+P351+P338, P312, P321, P363, P501 |
| NFPA 704 (fire diamond) | 1-1-0 |
| Flash point | > 316°C (600°F) |
| Autoignition temperature | > 340°C (644°F) |
| Lethal dose or concentration | LD50 (Oral, Rat): > 10,000 mg/kg |
| LD50 (median dose) | > > 10,000 mg/kg |
| NIOSH | FC 590 |
| PEL (Permissible) | PEL (Permissible Exposure Limit) for Vegetable Carbon Black: 3.5 mg/m³ |
| REL (Recommended) | 0.4% |
| IDLH (Immediate danger) | No IDLH value has been established. |
| Related compounds | |
| Related compounds |
Carbon black Activated carbon Bone char Charcoal Lamp black |
| Related compounds |
Carbon black Activated carbon Graphite Charcoal |