Wish I could.
I also wish I knew why a single-syllable word would be an important consideration.
As @Northern_Piper almost said …
People be lazy. And hurried. A shorter term will quickly displace a longer one once it has some small traction. “Ask” has replaced “request”, just as “zoom” has replaced “internet videoconference” and “ping” or “txt” has replaced “SMS text message”.
I don’t much enjoy “ask” in this way, but it’s one of the more logical biz-speaks of the last 20 years. Far better than the leveraged paradigms that @wolfpup so eloquently disparages.
Although I don’t care for lazy language and business buzzwords substitute for thought, I am rarely aggravated or annoyed by colloquial language. Slang is fascinating.
I don’t mean to be facetious here, but so are plague viruses – at least, to virologists. It doesn’t mean we have to like being subjected to either one. Not that I have a problem with all slang, of course – we all use it. And I freely admit to using some of the biz-speak terms I ridiculed, but I like to think I use them appropriately, in the right contexts. What aggravates the hell out of me is the contrived or ignorant abuse of language that accomplishes nothing except to obfuscate meaning.
Linguists who study the evolution of language and colloquialisms certainly find slang interesting, and it tends to make some of them rather unjustifiably accepting of it. Steven Pinker and John McWhorter come to mind as two examples who sometimes seem to be twisting themselves into pretzels trying to justify some illogical usage that really originated as an ignorant solecism. Many of the defences raised in McWhorter’s fairly recent book, Why English Won’t - and Can’t - Sit Still (Like, Literally) are strained and implausible, in my view, as insightful as he and Pinker both are in most other respects. Furthermore, many of McWhorter’s current arguments directly contradict the ones he made in an earlier book, Doing Our Own Thing: The Degradation of Language and Music and Why We Should, Like, Care. As one reviewer put it, “In the end, his conclusion is grim: Since language is the vehicle of culture, this creeping carnage [of linguistic ignorance] foreshadows a fatal stagnation of the intellectual culture of the United States.”
Years ago when I was heavily involved in bike safety instruction (specifically for vehicular cycling) I became aware of the “there’s no such thing as an ‘accident’” philosophy. I generally subscribe to that belief though it could bite me in the ass some day.
Though all of this may be true, including “slang is fascinating” the challenge IMO is determining which is “contrived or ignorant abuse” and who in fact is the grand arbiter of this.
For example, way back (I don’t have a cute for this but I did learn it getting an English degree 30-some years ago) double negatives were used for emphasis before this evolved into an arithmetic model in which double negatives cancel each other out (see Wikipedia article: Double negative - Wikipedia).
So (the evil “so”) who decides? And I have encountered too many armchair experts who go around proclaiming such things as “it’s wrong to convert nouns into verbs” even though some of them “bike” to work. Where are these great rules written? I need learned them anywhere.
Also, a lot of the complaints upthread are about things that give sentences better flow and rhythm, if our will. I had one boss, when I was in the Navy, who was very particular about eliminating “useless” words from military writing, to the extent that it resembled “see Spot run”, whereas his successor had the opposite mindset eg “let’s just add ‘as well’ to this sentence to improve its flow and make it a bit easier to read” (a mindset more like mine btw).
Although there are obviously accidents, some are avoidable. In any case, the term “motor vehicle collision” is usually more precise. All collisions are collisions.
Just don’t go pissing off this presciptivist motherfucker.
Here we have the familiar old “who is the grand arbiter?” gambit. As if there were no such thing as standard English. As if English did not have a well-documented lexicon, or equally well documented rules of usage that we call a “grammar”. That’s what makes it a language. That the lexicon and the grammar organically mutates over time doesn’t change the fact that at any one point in time they do exist. The English language is not a complete anarchy where we can just invent our own rules on a whim, or none of us would be able to communicate. The whole problem with “biz-speak” at its worst is that it tries to do just that – artificially reshape the language – and clarity of communication suffers accordingly.
Except that this “arithmetic model” has been the de facto reality since at least the 18th century. When I say “I don’t disagree” it clearly implies that I agree, though usually carrying the nuance of a more limited form of agreement than the more straightforward “I agree”.
There’s nothing evil about “so”. In this context it’s a subordinating conjunction that means “therefore” and is properly used to introduce the conclusion of an argument, just as you’ve used it here. That’s precisely the reason it’s so annoying when used as an empty filler word. Think how stupid it would sound if someone started every sentence with “therefore”.
As for “who decides”: again, the rules and conventions of standard English are well documented.
Minor nitpick: the annoyance with “ask” is that it’s a case of turning a verb into a noun, but yes, it’s the same kind of transposition. As to your question, these great rules are written in great books called “dictionaries”. There you will find that “bike” can be used as a verb (sometimes noted as being colloquial) and also an adjective (“bike helmet”, “bike lane”). This undoubtedly came about through widespread usage. It’s the kind of mutation that is a reality of language and, whether we like it or not, is why English often seems so illogical – you might bike to work, but I can’t say that I “car” to work, or that I’m going to “airplane” to California to visit friends. Although it wouldn’t surprise me if some biz-speaking executives say just those things. 
We have a whole active thread for that.
You mean: We’ve called a sidebar for that issue; we’ve taken it offline here for further drill-down there.
Your examples show the preference for short words in spoken English, which I mentioned earlier as driving the noun-to-verb process for “ask”.
I can say “I’m driving to work”. I can say “I’m flying to California”. Since there are well-established single words for those concepts, we don’t need to convert “car” or “plane” to verbs.
What’s the single word verb for “riding my bicycle”? “Driving” doesn’t work, because that’s associated with a vehicle like a car, or earlier, with horse-drawn vehicles. “Riding” is associated with horses as well, or a passive passenger, “I got a ride with Wolfpup”, and the verb “rode” isn’t specific to biking.
So, “I rode my bicycle to work” gradually gets shortened by usage to “I biked to work”. The need for a short verb fuels the noun-to-verb process.
Meh, I think I’ve exhausted the subject in this thread.
But I thank you for reaching out to me about that other thread, which is more focused on biz-speak as its core performance mission and would have allowed me to more effectively leverage my mission statement, but at the end of the day I just don’t have the bandwidth at this point in time going forward.
I just realize that what decides whether a phrase annoys me is the speaker’s intent.
Someone verbs a noun? Well, did they do it for clarity, for emphasis, to be funny? (that was my motive there)…
OR, did they do to build themself up as some sort of alpha-dog of middle management?
That’s what Rannnndy used to do. That “offline here for further drill-down” line? That could’ve come right out of Almost-a-VP Rannnndy’s “Tear us down, then build us up again” TEAM SCRUM department meetings. (Oh, those extra RRRRs are because no one could say his name without stretching it out to allow for a sufficiently long eye-roll)
You left out “I call ‘huddle’”!
There’s certainly some truth to that, and I’m not suggesting that the verb form of the word is useless. On the contrary, I pointed out that this usage is supported by the language arbiters that velomont seems to feel don’t exist. I might also note that this usage does not resolve all ambiguity, because “bike” and its derivatives are very commonly applied to motorcycles.
It’s an all-hands meeting!
But HR said we can’t hold hands! Or huddle with Bippity, no matter how fetching she looks today.
I’m soooo confused by corpspeak??1!!1??.
Our “everybody” meetings at the company I worked for the longest were always called “all hands” I think the post-WWII generation upper management were mostly ex-military (as were tons of people back then, again, WWII), so that’s why that nomenclature caught on. By the time I started working there in the 80s, I had no idea it had a military derivation.
A new CEO in the 90s decided since we were not the military that we should stop using the “all hands” phrase. I can’t even remember what the suggested substitute was, but it didn’t catch on. I retired in 2012, and they were still being called “all hands.”
English is very sparse with agglutinative morphology, so the grammatical most words is determined by their placement in a sentence. Some languages, like Russian for example, clearly identify word types by case suffixes in ways that make nouning, verbing and adjectivization more complex than just putting any random word in a position that assigns it a role.
Koine English also uses a lot of elliptical constructions that tend to obfuscate a word’s actual role. For example, “production report” makes “production” look like an adjective, but I believe that its actual function is as a “folded genitive”, to wit, the construction can be unfolded into “report of production”, but that is too clumsy to say and “production’s report” has poor meter, so we use the elliptical, though the point (adjectivization or elliptical) is debatable.
English offers very fertile ground for lexical abuse, the result of being so flexible (though too much bending can cause things to lierally snap back and hit one in the face). I would be curious to see how other languages form slang and cudgel their structure.