This is stuck up in my office.
If you scabbed - and we know who you are - then you shouldn't expect any social niceties from me henceforth. I'm very proud that nobody in either of my departments is a picket-line crossing selfish traitor. I've already met one of these worms and declined to pass the time of day.
It's a simple rule. You don't scab, and you don't cross properly constituted picket lines. For instance, I'd have ignored the fuel protesters a few years ago because they were selfish bastards already in receipt of subsidies, demanding higher profits at the expense of the public and the environment. But in most cases, strikes are a collective last resort and should be supported or respected.
By crossing the picket line, these co-workers declared that they were somehow special, better than us, and stronger as individuals. There's a good lesson in Lewis Jones's We Live (1939), in which collective strength is demonstrated by the union members letting go of the coal cart on an incline. The man who refused to join the union is taught the virtues of solidarity as he strains to stop it rolling over him - after a few minutes he's begging for help.
Certain of my colleagues could do with this kind of demonstration - and will get it when they find their former comrades strangely reluctant to stand up for them in a tight spot.