A rating classification does not dictate the quality of a television programme.
If anything, the opposite is true. A universally-beloved PG-rated show is a true achievement because crafting a wholesome joke comprehensible to every demographic is fiendishly difficult. There's a reason why private jokes are invariably disgusting.
Some are all too quick to conflate WWE's lack of quality with the classification, and it's a very superficial take that might now be consigned to the troll-sphere. It's not as if a Nia Jax match is going to get any better if somebody gigs their forehead in it; in fact, with Nia Jax, who even needs a blade!
Moreover, they don't really adhere to it. It's far more PR drive than code of conduct.
Paul Heyman is married with children, but surely bears scars from a presumed high school incel phase, given how much he loves the word "bitch". Vince McMahon is a "quite frankly" guy, Tony Schiavone fond of "that time". Heyman's verbal tic is "Bitch!".
We aren't in the body slam for the win era anymore, either. Just the other month, in just one display of reckless violence that parents might frown at, were their six year-old watching, Braun Strowman sandwiched - and nearly imploded - Shinsuke Nakamura's bleeding head between his body and a non-gimmicked grand piano.