Chang Mook Sohn, Washington state's chief economist for 24 years, relishes crunching the numbers for his quarterly forecasts and then watching good decisions rise from them. As the executive director of the state Office of the Forecast Council, Sohn has been a man of process, of step-by-step study and precision. He also has been one of the most powerful people you've never heard of in the state.

His predictions about the economy have affected billions of dollars in government spending, which in turn have affected the services and tax rates of thousands of businesses and millions of state residents. Businesspeople listen to what he says. So do lawmakers. To the surprise of many, the 63-year-old Sohn, after delivering his 94th quarterly forecast of the state's economic health in February, left a job that only he has held since its inception in 1984. He is now pursuing his first elective office, that of state treasurer, as a Democrat to succeed retiring officeholder Mike Murphy.

Sohn's move is not to be dismissed as just another blip on the state's political radar. His departure raises a question about who will succeed him, which raises an even more important question: Will the job, which was created to clean up the state's history of politically tainted economic projections, revert to politics and unreliability?

Don Brunell, president of the Association of Washington Business, thinks it's possible. His organization, which lobbies on behalf of businesses statewide, respects Sohn's word. "There are not a lot of Chang Mook Sohns around that are available," he says. "We've been very, very fortunate to have had him for as long as we did. If it becomes a politically appointed position, it could be maneuvered to sort the data to suit one party or the other."

Sohn's plunge into the political arena also raises a tantalizing question for political junkies: How far will Sohn have to go to shed his behind-the-scenes, bureaucratic image to capture the treasurer's office, which, while it is an elected seat, doesn't carry as much partisan baggage as, say, the governor? In fact, until now, no one knew which side of the political divide Sohn was on. "I was actually surprised he's a Democrat," says David Ammons, the Associated Press' state political writer who has covered the statehouse since 1971 and who has on occasion had lunch with Sohn.

Sohn says he's running on his experience, not on his politics. His opponents so far ? Republican Allan Martin, and another Democrat, State Rep. Jim McIntire ? are running on their experience, too. In any case, Sohn says, he's prepared to raise money and to tell voters why they should pick him. What he doesn't worry about is becoming a creature of politics. "I am very strong-willed, very stubborn," he says. If he believes something is right, he says, then "there are no compromises."

Born in South Korea, Sohn grew up in Gwangju, which later came to be called "the shrine of Korean democracy" because of the civil demonstrations that took place there in 1980 and the subsequent military crackdown. Sohn, the son of a homemaker and an insurance executive, lived in a stable home but regularly saw the poverty of his city and country. As a young man, Sohn believed that if he entered public service, he could improve his country, so he gravitated toward the social sciences. He craved the comprehensive knowledge of an economist, to craft policies that would lift people up.

Armed with a bachelor's degree in economics from Yonsei University in Seoul, Sohn arrived in the United States in 1969 to pursue a doctorate in economics at the State University of New York. He had planned to return to Korea when he completed graduate school in 1975. But as he saw his country becoming more politically repressive, he made the decision not to return. He wanted a freer and better life for himself and his wife, Sukjoo, and their two small children. It wasn't an easy decision. He was the first of his family to leave his hometown, and, he says, "It's not easy to accept or adapt to a new environment."