Curiosity about molecules with chirality has pushed chemists to dig deep for more than a century, especially after Louis Pasteur recognized how life depends on subtle molecular differences. (1S,2S)-(-)-1,2-Diaminocyclohexane L-Tartrate carries that torch forward. Research journals from the 1950s started taking a close look at how the diamine backbone interacts with tartaric acid, focusing not only on academic interest but on real process improvements in chemical manufacturing. By the late twentieth century, researchers saw how powerful enantioselective ligands could be in making pharmaceuticals safer and more efficient. I remember reading early synthesis papers during grad school, marveling at how small changes had such huge biological implications. Today, this compound reflects years of gradual innovation—testament to the global effort behind selective catalysis.
This salt comes from two components: the (1S,2S) enantiomer of 1,2-diaminocyclohexane and L-tartaric acid. Together, they pack chirality into its physical core and into the chemistry it unlocks. Suppliers across North America, Europe, and East Asia offer the compound in grades meant for laboratory work, pilot projects, and full-scale industrial campaigns. Labs usually receive it as a white to off-white crystalline powder, shipped in moisture-proof packaging with batch certificates tracing every step of its journey. A wide range of industries, from fine chemicals to pharmaceuticals, place regular orders and trust the material for both its reproducibility and performance.
The salt usually appears as a white, crystalline solid with high solubility in water, which simplifies cleaning out glassware or dissolving measured charges. Its melting point reliably sits between 182°C and 188°C. This compound offers robust shelf stability in dry, controlled storage. It acts as both a strong base (thanks to the amine groups) and as a stereochemically defined scaffold for various organic reactions. I recall it stubbornly resisting decomposition at room temperature through long stretches of our lab courses—a detail I appreciated after some less cooperative analogs wasted hours of work. The product often has limited volatility and produces no noticeable odor.
Vial labels arrive with clear notations on optical purity—it’s not uncommon to see enantiomeric purity above 98%, and chemical purity from 99% upwards. Production batches get tested for water content, with specifications usually below 0.5%. Trusted suppliers also provide melting point data, free amine content, and trace metals analysis, helping regulatory teams tick boxes for compliance. On each container, hazard pictograms run alongside warnings about skin or eye irritation if handled carelessly. Shipping documents match each batch to a certificate of analysis. Every unit sold within North America or Europe also bears a lot number for traceability, making callbacks or post-market investigations much easier for safety-minded labs or manufacturers.
Most industrial syntheses of (1S,2S)-(-)-1,2-Diaminocyclohexane L-Tartrate start by isolating the correct enantiomer from a mixture of cyclohexanediamines. This separation often uses diastereomeric crystallization, where L-tartaric acid converts the diamine enantiomer into a tartrate salt, making other forms easier to wash away. Chemists dissolve racemic 1,2-diaminocyclohexane in ethanol or another alcohol, add L-tartaric acid, then chill the mixture. The right salt drops out. This process avoids fancy chiral columns, saving time and money. Drying and recrystallization ensure high purity, and modern automation lets manufacturers scale quickly from small batches to tons of product.
Labs often use (1S,2S)-(-)-1,2-Diaminocyclohexane L-Tartrate as a source of chiral diamine for further modification. The two amine groups participate in condensation with carbonyls to make Schiff bases, forming ligands prized for asymmetric hydrogenations. The salt form can be swapped back to the free diamine with gentle treatment using a base, then used anywhere conventional diamines would go—creating new ligands, complexing metals, or building chiral auxiliaries. I once used it in an experiment to synthesize a new copper catalyst for olefinations, and the crystal structures matched our predictions precisely, showing how versatile and predictable this building block can be. In pharmaceutical manufacturing, converting the salt to its free base unlocks new routes to enantioselective APIs, all while maintaining tight control over stereochemistry.
Catalogs and patents refer to this salt with names such as (1S,2S)-(+)-Cyclohexane-1,2-diamine-L-tartrate, (1S,2S)-1,2-diaminocyclohexane L(+) tartrate, and cyclohexane-1,2-diamine, tartrate salt, (1S,2S)-isomer. Sometimes, manufacturers use internal batch codes or short forms to save label space, but the compound is instantly recognized in the field by its chemical shorthand or CAS registry. Buyers who want to avoid confusion check those numbers and request proof of chiral analysis before signing a purchase order.
Workplace safety starts with ventilation and personal protective gear. Labs and factories mandate gloves, goggles, and lab coats during weighing or mixing—the compound irritates skin and eyes after contact, and can cause discomfort if inhaled heavily as a powder. Spillage protocol calls for vacuum pickup or wet mopping, since powders settle into seams and create persistent exposure risks. Chemical hygiene plans list this salt in the moderate-hazard category, so eye-wash stations and spill kits sit nearby. Each facility runs regular audits to make sure procedures for storage, labeling, and waste disposal keep up with both OSHA and REACH regulations. As a chemist, these standards feel less like red tape and more like reassurance; the safe handling track record speaks for itself.
Research teams rely on this compound as a chiral source for building catalysts in asymmetric reactions—industries that focus on high-purity APIs value it for the reliable production of single-enantiomer drugs. The material also excels as an enantioselective building block for ligands involved in metal catalysis, boosting both yield and selectivity without risky side-products. Polymer chemistry and molecular recognition fields push it into new roles, exploring supramolecular assemblies and responsive materials. My colleagues in green chemistry emphasize its value for designing more selective processes, which keeps waste down and energy usage low in commercial batch runs. Today’s pharmaceutical plants and specialty chemical firms see it as an essential supply-line material, not just a research oddity.
Academic papers continue to find new uses for this salt, expanding beyond pharmaceuticals toward materials science and sensor development. Modern research often tweaks its core structure, seeking versions that better coordinate with specific metals or enhance activity. Studies also compare catalytic outcomes of the (1S,2S) enantiomer against its mirror image, searching for improvements in reaction speed or selectivity. I still hear from colleagues at major academic conferences about collaborations between universities and industry, who co-fund pilot projects to optimize synthesis schemes for this compound. Joint publications reveal how shifts in process design ripple through to better yields and fewer byproducts at scale.
Regulatory literature from the past two decades covers acute and chronic toxicity in depth. Skin and eye irritation data come from standardized animal models, showing caution is warranted but no evidence of systemic organ toxicity under normal exposure conditions. The compound rarely crosses biological membranes in significant quantities, which reduces risk for accidental absorption during bench work. Animal studies watch long-term effects of repeated exposure on vital organs and immune responses, all while environmental research tracks degradation products through soil or water matrices. Published findings suggest that the greatest threat comes from mishandling powders rather than any inherent toxicity—a view echoed in workplace safety manuals and by most industrial hygienists I know.
Opportunities to use (1S,2S)-(-)-1,2-Diaminocyclohexane L-Tartrate keep expanding as industries shift toward greener, more selective syntheses. Researchers look for new asymmetric transformations, combining classic diamine frameworks with emerging hand-in-hand solvents or recyclable supports. Plants running large-scale campaigns feel pressure to minimize emissions and energy use, driving demand for chiral catalysts built on these frameworks. Interdisciplinary teams—chemical engineers, biologists, materials scientists—continue to push for novel applications, like polymer architectures with unique optical or mechanical profiles. As regulatory scrutiny on drug purity stays sharp, suppliers invest in even cleaner, larger-scale production with tighter documentation. I see a future where this compound bridges disciplines, acting as a platform for discoveries rather than a fixed-function specialty item.
People who’ve spent time in a chemistry lab know the drive to build things with tight control—making sure every part fits, every bond goes where it should. (1S,2S)-(-)-1,2-Diaminocyclohexane L-Tartrate often turns up in these labs as a chiral building block. Chemists who care about stereochemistry lean on it for its ability to ensure that molecules line up the way nature does. The chiral aspect of this compound really matters for drug development, because the shape of a molecule can mean the difference between a wonder drug and a dud.
Out in the real world, one of the main things you’ll see this molecule used for is making ligands used in catalysts. Catalysts speed up chemical reactions, and the type of ligand influences what gets made and in what amount. This particular diamine forms the heart of several catalytic systems—including ones that put together pharmaceuticals and other fine chemicals. These reactions often have to pick a side, making molecules with a certain handedness. You want the right orientation, or you end up with something useless—or worse, dangerous. So chemists use (1S,2S)-(-)-1,2-diaminocyclohexane L-tartrate as a kind of steering wheel to drive selectivity during synthesis.
Pharmaceutical science has no room for guesswork. If a drug has one version that heals and another that causes harm, there’s no margin for error. The application of this compound in asymmetric synthesis means more medicines can be made safer and with less waste. That’s important for me because I’ve seen—both as a patient and as a reader—the lives that hinge on how drugs are made. With cancer drugs, for example, small changes in molecule structure change everything. This chiral diamine lets scientists build those treatments with confidence, so people get what the doctor ordered, without surprises.
The world pushes for safer, cleaner ways to make chemicals. (1S,2S)-(-)-1,2-Diaminocyclohexane L-tartrate supports processes that don’t require harsh conditions or toxic reagents. Reactions using this compound typically produce less unnecessary byproduct, which means there’s less chemical waste to handle at the end. In this way, the compound supports efforts to shrink the environmental footprint of chemical manufacturing—a goal too important to ignore.
Instead of sitting back and accepting wasteful or risky methods, scientists can take a cue from how this compound keeps things tidy. By improving access to pure, single-enantiomer products, labs save money, cut complications, and get closer to the ultimate aim—which is to help people with smarter molecules. Funding stable supply chains for high-quality chiral auxiliaries and offering real incentives for green chemistry could make these benefits widely available. As someone who values both the power of medicine and responsibility toward the planet, it’s heartening to see compounds like this shaping the future of chemistry.
Mentioning chemical purity feels about as basic as talking about water being wet. It matters, not just for scientists in crisp lab coats, but for everyone who expects a certain outcome from a process. If you’ve ever tried cooking with salt and realized it’s mixed with a heap of unknown stuff, the taste never matches up. In the same way, a low-purity chemical leads to unpredictable results in the lab, the factory, or the field. Impurities can sidetrack reactions, weaken finished products, and even lead to costly recalls.
People ask about “chemical purity” because they know that even a small dose of the wrong ingredient changes everything. Years ago, pharmaceutical firms learned the hard way that cutting corners on purity could cost lives and huge settlements. Fact is, drugs need purity not just to work, but to avoid harmful side effects. In agriculture, tainted fertilizer can end up in crops, and nobody wants to find out after the fact.
The gold standard sits at “analytical” or “reagent” grades, clocking in over 99% for most compounds. This sort of quality costs more but delivers the reliable, repeatable results that science and cutting-edge industry demand. Next tier comes “technical” grade, which skips a round of cleaning but offers a solid balance for less critical work. Try using “industrial” grade in research and the outcome gets muddy real quick.
Testing these levels falls back on methods like chromatography, spectroscopy, and titration—each bringing hard data, not just a sales pitch. Trusted suppliers back claims up with certificates of analysis, spelling out exactly what’s inside. Smart buyers always check these docs. Too often, skipping this step bites back later with halted production or failed batches.
Purity matters, but so does the physical form. Powder, granule, liquid, or pellet, each brings tradeoffs. I once tried substituting a fine powder for a granular product in a mixing tank. The powder clumped, clogged the flow, and cleaning up became a real headache. Granules, on the other hand, dropped in clean, spread smooth, and dissolved at just the right rate.
In industries making tablets, mixing paints, or running chemical reactors, the exact form influences efficiency and safety. A liquid concentrate often helps precision dosing and fast integration, but it might need special handling or storage. Powders demand care to prevent inhalation hazards. Spill a dense solid—pickup just means sweeping. Spill fine dust—it hangs in the air, gets into everything, and can spark health alarms.
Buyers should look beyond just a name and percentage on a bottle. Ask for batch-specific certificates, quiz suppliers on trace contaminants, and inspect packaging for leaks or incompatibilities. Make sure the form fits the process—don’t expect a powder to act like a tablet or liquid, no matter what the brochure claims.
If something looks off—like sediment in a clear solution or powder that smells wrong—call a halt, test the sample, and get answers. Quality assurance people earn their keep by not trusting blindly, because a slip in chemical purity or form doesn’t just waste money, it can harm people or damage years of work.
I’ve seen confusion break loose in labs just from ignoring basic storage steps. (1S,2S)-(-)-1,2-Diaminocyclohexane L-Tartrate is no bag of sugar—it calls for a plan. It feels like an obvious routine at first, but over time, the odds stack up. Poor care means ruined chemicals and wasted money. My old professor once found a ruined batch quietly absorbing moisture on a cluttered shelf, which should warn anyone. This compound takes its cues from the tartrate part: it really doesn’t enjoy extra water in the air. Humidity isn’t just a nuisance—it breaks bonds and causes clumping. That’s how you lose a good reagent before ever weighing it out.
Every chemist recognizes the phrase “store in a dry, cool space," but not everyone means the same thing. For this compound, keep it away from sunlight and humidity. Light exposure can nudge some molecules into reacting or decomposing quietly, especially over weeks or months. Fresh, unopened containers last much longer in a climate like a dedicated reagent fridge. Not everyone can afford a monitored storage closet, but at the very least, an airtight jar on a shelf far from heat sources will make a difference.
From my own work, failing to reseal the container after scooping out a bit can be a killer. Water finds its way in fast—especially on rainy days or in an old building with shaky climate control. Just a few hours in a damp room leaves clumps, and you may not spot it until the next experiment goes wrong. Even the best scientists lose time with mistakes like that.
Mislabeled jars poke their heads up every semester. It’s tempting to take a shortcut, especially under deadline pressure. But, for any sensitive reagent—especially this one—labels earn their money by cutting confusion. Everyone walking into the storage space should know what’s inside the jar and when it began its stay.
Separating chemicals with different storage requirements saves headaches. Keep reducing agents and strong acids away from this compound, since wild fumes or accidental spills cause reactions that get messy. Simple shelving with dedicated zones keeps things safer, something I learned after watching peroxide fumes trigger a panic.
Anyone storing chemicals with even a mild toxicity risk needs a locked cabinet. School labs and industrial settings both see wandering hands and distracted visitors. Locks don’t just deter theft, but also stop accidental mixing and spillage. My own lab spent weeks updating security protocols after a cleaning crew knocked over a shelf—fortunately, nothing toxic hit the floor. That’s a warning not to let just anyone poke around near sensitive inventories.
Don’t forget about old or crusty materials. Check expiration dates and appearance during every inventory check. Disposing of degraded or contaminated stock isn’t busywork—it prevents data disasters and contamination spreading to newer chemicals. Most places require specific waste bins for chemical disposal, and skipping that step means fines or, worse, injuries.
Flashy equipment isn’t always better. Sturdy shelves, labeled jars, a no-nonsense fridge, clear documentation, and habits like double-checking seals work better than the fanciest digital humidity monitor if no one looks at the data. Focusing on these basics will save more experiments, budgets, and peace of mind than anything else. Anyone working with (1S,2S)-(-)-1,2-Diaminocyclohexane L-Tartrate ought to trust a routine built from experience, not just a vendor brochure.
Anyone searching for chemicals or materials online faces big questions about trust and safety. Browsing through catalogs, it’s tempting to think a product labeled “pure” or “analytical grade” will meet every expectation for lab work or drug development. But those words alone mean little without context and proof. Meeting pharmacy-level standards or research protocols isn’t about marketing. It depends on clear documentation, traceability, and regulatory alignment.
Experience in both research and collaboration with pharma teams tells me that paperwork draws the line between safe, valid use and risky improvisation. For pharmaceutical applications, a certificate of analysis (COA) must land in a scientist’s hands. That paper tracks the chemical’s batch, purity, listed impurities, and verifies the supplier’s claims. The absence of a COA, or a weak and vague one, tells you the company hasn’t invested in real testing or accountability. My lab once received a solvent without a detailed analysis sheet, which forced us to rerun controls after failed experiments. The lesson stuck.
Looking for research use often opens broader choices, but the same mindset applies. A research project might tolerate small fluctuations in quality, but only if the data can be traced, and if mishaps won’t harm people or halt a clinical project. If a vendor cannot give clear sourcing or purity info, odds are high that their supply chain focuses on volume – not careful filtering or regulatory compliance.
Statutes in the United States, Europe, and many Asian countries push suppliers to list whether a product meets Good Manufacturing Practice (GMP) or other regulatory demands. This separates molecules prepped for human trials from those used for bench research. The U.S. Food and Drug Administration, for example, requires detailed lot records and consistency in product batches for anything used in approved medicines. EU guidelines require similar transparency and process control. Without those credentials, no pharmaceutical company will risk their reputation or patients’ lives by experimenting with underdocumented materials.
Ignoring fit for use brings consequences beyond daily experiments. I remember stories in my circle where untested reagents ruined a run of preclinical testing, wasting months of work. Sometimes those shortcuts have graver costs — imagine manufacturing a cancer drug and finding an unlisted contaminant. Companies caught cutting corners face lawsuits, product recalls, and ruined trust. Academic journals sometimes retract papers if they trace unreliable results back to poorly specified inputs.
Teams shopping for supplies should demand more than just a standard product sheet. Ask for in-depth certificates, detailed batch traceability, and audit suppliers every few cycles. Trusted vendors invest in detailed documentation and share their quality control process openly. For advanced, regulated projects, your purchasing checklist grows longer, covering everything from allergen information to storage temperatures and shelf-life.
Open communication between supplier and scientist saves money, data, and sometimes lives. By looking beyond buzzwords and checking credentials and reports line by line, researchers and developers set themselves up for progress — and fewer costly setbacks.
Finding the right chemical for a job means more than reading common names on a bottle. Chemistry doesn’t work on trust or guesswork, and neither should anyone handling it. That’s where the CAS number comes in. For (1S,2S)-(-)-1,2-Diaminocyclohexane L-Tartrate, the CAS number is 144163-97-9. This identifier acts like a fingerprint for molecules, not just another label buried in paperwork.
Mixing up substances in the lab never ends well. Each compound brings its quirks, reactivity, and risks. Using the correct CAS number shortens the gap between intention and result. It stops dangerous confusion, especially in supply chains where the same chemical may go by several names or local shorthand. In the early days of graduate research, plenty of us wasted hours hunting down chemicals where the sellers called things by old or regional names. Having that CAS number cut through the mess and got the right stuff on the shipping list, not a close cousin with unexpected consequences.
Being sure about identity matters most in fields where a small slip leads to disaster. In pharmaceuticals, a single incorrect ingredient in a process can sink millions in research, not to mention risk patient safety. In industry, accidental mixing costs money and can cause long-term damage. A simple point of reference like 144163-97-9 clears up confusion every time.
The use of (1S,2S)-(-)-1,2-Diaminocyclohexane L-Tartrate often comes up in areas like asymmetric synthesis or serving as a chiral building block. Stereochemistry—the arrangement of atoms in three dimensions—plays a huge role in how a compound behaves. No scientist wants to pour hundreds of labor hours into a project, then find out the chiral partner was wrong because of a mislabel. The CAS system quite literally saves careers and reputations.
I've seen reactions flop in organic labs where the only problem was an ambiguous label on a tiny brown bottle. CAS numbers remove the guessing. Researchers check inventory, pull a match, move forward with confidence. It’s direct, factual, reliable—no room for ambiguity.
For companies trading globally, trust does not come lightly. Regulatory compliance, quality checks, and trade depend on precision. Authorities require clear documentation of chemicals, and suppliers must meet those standards without fail. The CAS registry keeps everybody honest, promoting transparency on every level.
For small and medium businesses without huge compliance teams, using the CAS number like 144163-97-9 speeds up safety assessments and cross-checks. It links straight to safety datasheets and allows international buyers to verify and avoid expensive mistakes. Even a beginner learning to use these numbers can dodge huge setbacks.
Science relies on a foundation of clear communication. Standardized identifiers such as CAS numbers help keep projects on track. Suppliers tag their products. Regulatory bodies maintain order. Teams across borders speak the same language, whether they’re talking about a fine chemical for synthesis or a potential drug component.
Overall, (1S,2S)-(-)-1,2-Diaminocyclohexane L-Tartrate's CAS number—144163-97-9—serves more than an administrative role. It keeps research safe, industry accountable, and ambitions possible. Whether in my own days spent fumbling through supplier catalogues or watching new students grapple with similar paperwork, I’ve learned the power of getting it right the first time. Chemical research improves when certainty lives right there, in nine digits and a couple of dashes.
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