When it comes to money, Michael Zaken has his own system to sort what he can't see.

The dollar bills go in, unfolded, on the right side of wallet, the unfolded $5s on the other side. Tens are folded lengthwise, the $20s widthwise. The $50s, he quips, go straight to his wife.

Most of the time, the system allows the president of the Golden Triangle Council of the Blind to pay for items and get proper change without incident. But like most of his blind friends who have to rely on the honesty of others, he is occasionally cheated. A few years ago, he gave a stadium vendor a $20 bill and the man insisted it was only a $5 bill and wouldn't give him change. Mr. Zaken argued the point for a minute, and then walked off, feeling powerless.

So it is understandable why Mr. Zaken is happy about Tuesday's federal appeals court ruling that said the United States discriminates against the blind and those with limited visibility -- a ruling that may change the feel, size and color of U.S. currency. The U.S. Treasury Department is reviewing the ruling and deciding whether to appeal or change our greenbacks.

"I hate to fathom how much money is lost in blind people's lives that have been accidentally or intentionally ripped off," said Mr. Zaken, a 60-year-old who lives in Pleasant Hills. "Most people are nice. But there is a tiny percentage of people who know that you cannot prove what it is."

Money, he said, is one of the last areas where a blind person can't function independently.

Mr. Zaken can walk by himself with a cane. He can do his job as computer systems developer for U.S. Steel through a computer with speech output and Braille display. He can read his e-mail and vote by himself.

But, unable to differentiate between a $1 and a $5 or $20 bill, the simple act of buying something is an act of faith for this totally blind man.

"You function daily with money. It makes you totally dependent on others," said Mr. Zaken, who often shows bills to his sighted wife.

Most countries, including England, France and Germany, print currency of different sizes and colors so that is identifiable to people with visual impairments, said Stephen Barrett, president of the Blind & Vision Rehabilitation Services of Pittsburgh, a nonprofit that provides programs and services for people with vision loss.

"America is one of the few countries that doesn't have such a currency system," he said. "We know of cases where blind people have been cheated maliciously and taken advantage of. There is no reason for that. The real test of the case is whether there is discrimination. I do think there is discrimination."

Not being able to differentiate between bills can lead to embarrassment.

Sue Etters, a switchboard operator for Blind & Vision services, was given what she thought was a $5 bill in change at a store a month ago. She folded it lengthwise, her system for marking a $5 bill. Later, she gave it to someone else at work, and they told her it was really only a $1. "I felt real bad about it. It is embarrassing. You are trusting the clerk to deal with you properly."

She was listening to a talk radio show recently where callers were saying the blind-unfriendly currency was not a big deal. "But it is a big deal," she said.

But some argue that overhauling our currency would change a long-standing tradition and cost millions, possibly billions, in new vending machines, wallets and currency presses.

Karen Allison, a certified orientation and mobility specialist at Blind & Vision services, is not in favor of changing the currency because she thinks it would lead to backlash against the visually impaired. "People don't like change in their lives."

Plus, she feels that most people can learn how to fold their currency and avoid most problems. On a recent day, she was overseeing Bill Morris, a 37-year-old from Honesdale, Pa., near Scranton, who started losing his vision from a retinal disease just six months ago and is now legally blind.

He was shopping in the Giant Eagle at Waterfront, and was using a magnifying glass to find root beer barrels and Archway cookies and shaving cream. He could make out the numbers on the bills in good lights, and received help on items from clerks.

But he did not want to use a hand-held money identifier, which scans individual bills, because he thought it would just call more attention to himself.

Plus, he was comfortable with folding different bills in different ways and asking the clerk to count it back.

Mr. Morris, a former mechanic who has enough vision to distinguish numbers on bills in good light, feels as though he can function with the existing currency even if his vision gets worse,

"It is not like I am fumbling around with money and saying, 'Is this a $20 or $10?' That might open up for someone to take advantage of you. It is not what you say. It is how you say it."