It's highly relevant to getting a job on a software team, but only because most teams are assembled via interviews, and verbally relating stories from your past in a face-to-face meeting is the most effective interviewing technique.
And it's relevant to a job like sales. (That's unsurprising because a job interview is actually a sales meeting.) And many management jobs do have a sales aspect -- you have to justify budgets, sell work inside the company, et cetera.
But if explaining our work to outsiders were a particularly important or routine skill for programmers, we wouldn't be so bad at it. And, on average, we are bad at it. Because our actual on-the-job communication, which we practice all the time, is largely written and asynchronous, taking place on media like Slack or Github. It relies on plenty of job-specific shared knowledge, domain experience, and jargon, and it all happens in the shadow of a job-specific shared codebase that is supposed to speak for itself -- the whole point of software is to build something that works by itself -- but is also perpetually unfinished.
There are social skills that are important to have on a software team, but it's difficult to judge them in an interview. Interviews are staged events.
Challenging a candidate to defend a resume in an interview is like asking them to do improv comedy, and selects for many of the same factors: Verbal gracefulness, comfort in the spotlight, the ability to seamlessly change the subject, and the amount of time spent in rehearsal. Good candidates rehearse their resumes. We get to write them ourselves, after all, and with practice we learn to design them with hooks that lead into our best material.
I would say the whole point of software is to build something that people can use. If someone builds a module, but can't tell me how to use it, it's not of much use to me.
Oh, but surely they'll write documentation? Programmers, by and large, seem to suck at that too, which is why we have tech writers. But somebody still needs to explain to the tech writer what's happening! And only a few companies seem to carry tech writers for internal only products.
To put it simply, if I ask somebody how their code works and they say "Go away for an hour while I write documents" I think I'd rather not work with them. Or worse, they ask me for help debugging but can't tell me what they're trying to do. No thank you.
Your questions are good and relevant ones, I agree. Let me rephrase them a little:
"Hello, coworker! Did you enjoy the cake we both got to eat the other day in the company cafeteria?"
"By the way, I'd like to ask you a question, and don't worry: This isn't an interview or anything, so if you can't answer me right away, or if your answer lacks grace, it's not as if you'll lose your job."
"Anyway, coworker: I found this code, which you wrote while working for my company, under the direction of my company's management, and which solves a problem that my company actually has, and which builds upon my team's platforms, languages, and coding standards, and which might even link directly to my code, and which both of us have had a moment to read and think about and which is right in front of us on this monitor. How does this code work?"
"Also, can you help me debug this code I have here? It builds atop the code I showed you last week, and is written in the same language that we all use, and attempts to solve a problem you've seen before – which is not a coincidence, because you were the person who asked me to solve the problem."
These questions are incredibly relevant to our work, but interviews can't cover them. Candidates are not our coworkers and they share none of our context. Instead, interviews are, at best, an exercise in prediction. In practice, they are often an exercise in magical thinking.
During the workday, people aren't being constantly judged. They don't implement functions on whiteboards without unit tests, solve brainteasers out loud during stand-up meetings, or implement quicksort from memory. They do have to explain code to coworkers, but not to people who don't understand the problem space, the language, the background, or the constraints. These rarely-exercised feats of skill are valuable -- sales is valuable -- and our gut feeling is that such feats are somehow related to relevant job skills. But gut feelings are often wrong. And not every job is in sales.