orathaic,
No, it's pseudoscience. Let's consider the quote again:
"Baboons groom each other to keep social ties strong. But we humans are more evolved, so we use gossip as social glue."
The question being addressed is apparently, "Why do we gossip?" One might question whether this is a scientific question in the first place, but let's leave aside such concerns. Here is the answer, known to anybody who has participated in gossip: we are naturally curious about the lives and behaviors of others. We like stories, and we especially like dramatic twists in stories. So, we like hearing gossip. That means we also like telling gossip, because we're giving the recipient something they want, which gives us a sense of prestige and power, which is also something we desire. Sometimes, we gossip because we actually want to hurt the object of the gossip, instead of merely being indifferent to it. In that case, we're taking advantage of the recipient's natural curiosity to achieve our own malfeasant ends.
And that's why we gossip. Notice that it can be explained in terms of other desires and drives: the desire for stories and information about other people (which applies in many contexts other than gossip, as well), the desire for power and prestige (which also applies in many contexts other than gossip).
What is silly, then, is to analyze it in a context by itself, as though it is a discrete, isolated behavior with its own special causes unrelated to other human desires and drives. And this is what behavior psychologists of this type (yes, mostly evolutionary psychologists) do routinely. They take a behavior and try to explain it absolutely in isolation, as though it might have evolved all on its own, only rarely considering whether it might be a natural byproduct of other behaviors that had their own causes.
Gossip, we are told, exists to act "as social glue." Well, there are a couple ways to take that. First, you could say that that's just another way of saying what I just said: people do it to gain prestige, drawing other people to them, tightening connections of others to them. In that case, it's not a novel statement -- it's just a restatement of what we've already known, rephrased in scientific language so that people who tell themselves they only believe scientific results can understand it just like everybody else does.
Alternatively, it might be interpreted to mean that gossip exists as an independently selected behavior, independent of other drives, because it acts as a kind of fiat social glue through genetic preprogramming. Not only is this silly, it's also untestable, and therefore pseudoscience.
Even the simpler and seemingly more scientific question, "Is gossip an adaptive behavior?" can't really be analyzed well at this level -- you'd have to figure out what other behaviors it was a conasequence of, and then ask whether whatever negative effects it had were worse than the positive effects of THOSE behaviors (such as, say, the interest in other people's lives). Little of which is attempted, and most of which would remain untestable anyway. So what we get instead is people like Robin Dunbar weaving interesting and credible and completely pseudoscientific accounts about where behaviors like gossip come from -- accounts that add no actual knowledge to the human store.
"The supporting evidence is how corporations tend to avoid having departments with more than 150 employees...."
That doesn't really make sense. If corporations are going to optimize their departments based on how many people the average person can "know" in the sense of "keep track of most of the details of their lives," then they would have to make them somewhat smaller than the actual number, because everybody who works at a corporation also knows people outside the corporation. Of course it's also true that people in a corporation rarely keep track of all the details of the lives (even the corporate lives) of all the other people in even their department.
Moreover, the connection between the optimally efficient size of a team to get something done and the number of people whose lives you can keep track of is a little obscure, I think.
I do think there's something to the overall argument that we can't know hundreds of people very well, though I think a lot of this is related to the time scales of our lives, and the amount of time it takes to know somebody well. Needless to say, I haven't done any of the relevant compuations, though, so that remains an intuition.