Edward Lamb is an eager internationalist, a stalwart leftist, and an inveterate radical. But be advised, he's also filthy rich, having made millions in cable TV, heavy machinery, tires, and finance. When he was offered $25 a share for his bloc of stock in a bank it mattered not that minority holders' shares went down to $3 or $4. He cites with approval a Cuban law against the naming of buildings after living persons; you may address him at the Edward Lamb Building in Toledo. ""I became a multimillionaire in a system that is not in the best interests of the majority of people in the United States or elsewhere,"" he says. It's a curious ambivalence that he never really discusses--or even seems to recognize. Amid the grand talk of improving the lot of mankind, we are informed that ""heads rolled"" when he thought Lamb Enterprises required it. Told that the world will be saved by professional management, we discover that even Lamb can't tell skilled managers from wheeler-dealers--he complains bitterly about disappointing executives he himself hired. Still, Marxism with just a little business administration will work wonders. ""Cuba, Rumania, the U.S.S.R., the Peoples Republic of China,"" he offers ingenuously, ""all provide pleasant and challenging invitations to our scientific-management graduates."" A plutocrat's curriculum vitae submitted in application for a commissar's job.